Still she just laid there, silently, no words, no actions.
He groped at her as if she were a greased up pig, squealing and writhing in pain as he lunged towards her, over and over again. His face seemed to contort into that of a beast, a wild devil; devouring her soul from the outside in. She could feel the innocence seeping from every pore; causing her to break out in shame. The shame began to overtake and engulf her mind, body, and soul. She was no longer pure; just filth. A disgusting vile creature, created by sin and false love. This story would not have a fairy tale ending. He would never be her knight, riding in on an elegant white steed. No, this was her adversary, her slayer.
Still she just laid there, silently, no words, no actions.
She could sense the culmination of his destruction. He always rushed more near the end. His eyes bulging at the release, his hands tightening; cutting off circulation to her hands. She never resisted; just lay there, like a child's old rag doll tossed to the side; insides exploding out through broken stitching - left behind because there was no more use for her. He rolled off of her; finally releasing her from the prison he called his love. She could still feel the shackles upon her, pulsing, the blood finally returning to her extremities.
She gradually sat up, alone. The air felt bitter cold against her skin. The chill was almost calming; at least she could feel again. She tried to straighten her matted hair, wringing sweat from clumped tendrils. She longed for the return of her strength. She kept her eyes fixated on the door; apprehensive of his return. He was gone. He was always gone. He used her for his sick and twisted pleasures, and then walked away as if her existence was superfluous. She was nothing. She meant nothing.
She slowly laid back, tears blistering her eyes. She choked on the shame, coughing up blood.
She lay silent.
