Two wrongs don't make a right. ( 2/? )
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: Was that who we thought it was?
Disclaimer: this is just fiction and never ever happened. Okay? right. good.
WARNING: this story contains rape, violence and extremely strong language.
Feedback: If you feel like it, I won't complain.
Part one.
I’m alive.
It’s the first thing I think when I see warm sunlight pouring through my window. I wince. Holy fuck that hurt. I raise my hand to my face. My eye is swollen bad. Then I notice I’ve got a split lip too. Running my hand over my face again I notice the deep purple bruising on my fragile and pale wrist. Perfect finger marks. I bet the police could get a print the bastard pressed so hard. I just don’t want to move. I can feel the pain pulsating through me. I know where it’s pulsating the most. Suddenly I have this feeling rip through me. I’m going to be sick.
I run to the bathroom and hurl. Oh my god. That hurt so much. What the hell am I going to do?
I sit completely naked on the cold bathroom floor, leaning my head against the cool ceramic toilet bowl I start sobbing. I know I should phone someone but I just cant. I can see the bruise forming on the back of my shin where he knelt on me to keep me still. Deep, dark and blue it’s going. Do I dare to look in the mirror? No Matty, don’t do it, calls out the little voice in my head. I ignore it and pulling myself up on the sink I take the first real look at myself since last night began.
Fucking hell Matty. I burst out crying again. The tears stinging my swollen left eye and running down to aggravate my seriously split lip. The bite marks on my neck aren’t just red, they weren’t love bites. They’re teeth marks. Actual real bite marks. Holy shit. I can’t go into work like this. I contemplate turning the tap on to wash my face then I stop. The police might need the evidence. For what? They’re not going to give a fuck. So a pissed up gay guy got raped. Boo hoo. Not the first time and I’m sure it wont be the last.
No, bullshit, I have to tell someone. But who?
I stagger back into my bedroom. Look at my sheets, half hanging off the bed and smeared in my own blood. I just can’t do this. I pick up my bedside phone as I slump to the floor again. I start to dial Lauren. Fuck I can’t call Lauren. Even though she’s my best friend I just can’t face her right now. Not with this. Laying flat on the carpet, the glint of plastic under my mattress catches my eye. Vacuum bags.
Why did I not think of that before? I have to save all of this evidence. So I can’t do this now, I can’t phone the police right now but maybe I can face it later. I will face it later. Ripping the zipper wide I throw my old clothes into the corner of the room.
Standing up, I feel dizzy but I have to get my duvet out of it’s cover. Bloody hell my wrist is killing me. I swear its broken. I can deal with it later. I take the now empty duvet cover and the pillow cases then wrap them in the sheet from my bed. I shove them into the vacuum bag and then drop onto the bare bed. My bed, mine. I spent fucking ages saving up for this bed. Months even.
Zipping up the bag I walk into the living room. He’s left my phone and my keys just lying on the coffee table. Thank fuck for that. He hasn’t touched a single thing in my flat. Why? He just wanted to do what he did. The sick bastard. No, I wont get angry because I’ll just start crying again.
Ow, I wince as the pain shoots through my wrist once more. I pull the vacuum cleaner from out of the cupboard and suck the air from the bag. Shoving the vacuum cleaner back I throw the sealed flat bag in there too. Out of sight, out of mind Matty.
We can do this.
I grab my camera from out of the draw in the kitchen and walk back into the bathroom. I cant. I cant look. I have too. Matty man up for fuck sake. I raise the camera to my face and close my eyes. I don’t even want to check if it got that. Then I take a picture of my neck, my arm, my wrist, my leg, the bright red fucking nail marks that bastard left in my beautiful pale hips. Fuck. I ’m crying again. I place the camera onto the sink and climb into the shower.
Damn that’s cold but I can’t even wait for it to warm up.
I’ve ruined my life. No. He’s ruined my life. As I sob the tears mix with the water pouring over my head. Slumping to the bottom of the bath I just sit there. I don’t know what I’m waiting for or how long I sit here. It hurts, it all hurts so much. Cradling my wrist, I lean my forehead onto the cool tiled wall. I wish that someone would just kick the door off right now and drag me away from this but they wont. I know they wont.
“Holy shit.” I wail as the water turns scolding hot burning into my soft pale flesh. I jump up and grab the shower gel. I have to get him off me. I need to feel clean again. The feeling of his hands all over me. Still holding onto me, entering me over and over again. The feeling of him biting into my neck till I couldn’t think anymore. Still sobbing I scrub into my skin.
Scrubbing and scrubbing but it’s just not enough. That’s blood seeping from my skin now because I’m scrubbing too hard. Bleeding once again even though I didn’t think I could bleed anymore. This time I’ve caused that. I watch the red liquid pour into the plug hole. My skin screaming out for me to stop this but I’m totally numb. So numb that I don’t care anymore.
Scalded and bleeding I stumble out of the bath tub. I grab the bathrobe from behind the door and wobble into the living room. Collapsing onto the sofa I bury my head into the cushions. Still crying hard I pass out. Oh bliss and perfection because I just don’t want to think anymore. I just don’t want to think about the night that fucking monster ruined my life.
Summary: Was that who we thought it was?
Disclaimer: this is just fiction and never ever happened. Okay? right. good.
WARNING: this story contains rape, violence and extremely strong language.
Feedback: If you feel like it, I won't complain.
Part one.
I’m alive.
It’s the first thing I think when I see warm sunlight pouring through my window. I wince. Holy fuck that hurt. I raise my hand to my face. My eye is swollen bad. Then I notice I’ve got a split lip too. Running my hand over my face again I notice the deep purple bruising on my fragile and pale wrist. Perfect finger marks. I bet the police could get a print the bastard pressed so hard. I just don’t want to move. I can feel the pain pulsating through me. I know where it’s pulsating the most. Suddenly I have this feeling rip through me. I’m going to be sick.
I run to the bathroom and hurl. Oh my god. That hurt so much. What the hell am I going to do?
I sit completely naked on the cold bathroom floor, leaning my head against the cool ceramic toilet bowl I start sobbing. I know I should phone someone but I just cant. I can see the bruise forming on the back of my shin where he knelt on me to keep me still. Deep, dark and blue it’s going. Do I dare to look in the mirror? No Matty, don’t do it, calls out the little voice in my head. I ignore it and pulling myself up on the sink I take the first real look at myself since last night began.
Fucking hell Matty. I burst out crying again. The tears stinging my swollen left eye and running down to aggravate my seriously split lip. The bite marks on my neck aren’t just red, they weren’t love bites. They’re teeth marks. Actual real bite marks. Holy shit. I can’t go into work like this. I contemplate turning the tap on to wash my face then I stop. The police might need the evidence. For what? They’re not going to give a fuck. So a pissed up gay guy got raped. Boo hoo. Not the first time and I’m sure it wont be the last.
No, bullshit, I have to tell someone. But who?
I stagger back into my bedroom. Look at my sheets, half hanging off the bed and smeared in my own blood. I just can’t do this. I pick up my bedside phone as I slump to the floor again. I start to dial Lauren. Fuck I can’t call Lauren. Even though she’s my best friend I just can’t face her right now. Not with this. Laying flat on the carpet, the glint of plastic under my mattress catches my eye. Vacuum bags.
Why did I not think of that before? I have to save all of this evidence. So I can’t do this now, I can’t phone the police right now but maybe I can face it later. I will face it later. Ripping the zipper wide I throw my old clothes into the corner of the room.
Standing up, I feel dizzy but I have to get my duvet out of it’s cover. Bloody hell my wrist is killing me. I swear its broken. I can deal with it later. I take the now empty duvet cover and the pillow cases then wrap them in the sheet from my bed. I shove them into the vacuum bag and then drop onto the bare bed. My bed, mine. I spent fucking ages saving up for this bed. Months even.
Zipping up the bag I walk into the living room. He’s left my phone and my keys just lying on the coffee table. Thank fuck for that. He hasn’t touched a single thing in my flat. Why? He just wanted to do what he did. The sick bastard. No, I wont get angry because I’ll just start crying again.
Ow, I wince as the pain shoots through my wrist once more. I pull the vacuum cleaner from out of the cupboard and suck the air from the bag. Shoving the vacuum cleaner back I throw the sealed flat bag in there too. Out of sight, out of mind Matty.
We can do this.
I grab my camera from out of the draw in the kitchen and walk back into the bathroom. I cant. I cant look. I have too. Matty man up for fuck sake. I raise the camera to my face and close my eyes. I don’t even want to check if it got that. Then I take a picture of my neck, my arm, my wrist, my leg, the bright red fucking nail marks that bastard left in my beautiful pale hips. Fuck. I ’m crying again. I place the camera onto the sink and climb into the shower.
Damn that’s cold but I can’t even wait for it to warm up.
I’ve ruined my life. No. He’s ruined my life. As I sob the tears mix with the water pouring over my head. Slumping to the bottom of the bath I just sit there. I don’t know what I’m waiting for or how long I sit here. It hurts, it all hurts so much. Cradling my wrist, I lean my forehead onto the cool tiled wall. I wish that someone would just kick the door off right now and drag me away from this but they wont. I know they wont.
“Holy shit.” I wail as the water turns scolding hot burning into my soft pale flesh. I jump up and grab the shower gel. I have to get him off me. I need to feel clean again. The feeling of his hands all over me. Still holding onto me, entering me over and over again. The feeling of him biting into my neck till I couldn’t think anymore. Still sobbing I scrub into my skin.
Scrubbing and scrubbing but it’s just not enough. That’s blood seeping from my skin now because I’m scrubbing too hard. Bleeding once again even though I didn’t think I could bleed anymore. This time I’ve caused that. I watch the red liquid pour into the plug hole. My skin screaming out for me to stop this but I’m totally numb. So numb that I don’t care anymore.
Scalded and bleeding I stumble out of the bath tub. I grab the bathrobe from behind the door and wobble into the living room. Collapsing onto the sofa I bury my head into the cushions. Still crying hard I pass out. Oh bliss and perfection because I just don’t want to think anymore. I just don’t want to think about the night that fucking monster ruined my life.