Page 38 of Creep
Pain radiates over every crevice in my body. I shove my fists into the mattress and push myself into a standing position. Blood rushes to my head and I topple to the floor in a dizzy spell. My vision swims as a black cloud comes over my head. I lie slumped on the floor as I take deep breath after deep breath to prepare myself enough to move. It’s going to take everything in me to do this, but that’s the thing. Icanfucking do it. Even though this is some of the worst pain I have ever been in, it’s stillnothingcompared to the pain Ben put me through my entire life.
Once my vision is clear, I grit my teeth and grip the bloody blanket covering the bed, using it as leverage to pull myself up. Once I’m stable on my feet, I stand to my full height and take another deep breath, hissing. Every—fucking—thing hurts. Even fucking breathing hurts. The healing from this is going to take me so long, I already know. I gingerly take my first step. My teeth feel like they are going to snap right out of my mouth with the pressure I’m exerting on them. I take one step after another, slowly but carefully making my way across the room. Sweat trails down my naked back and the blood covering my body is sticking and only getting worse the longer it continues to ooze. It runs down my legs in trails, slowly drying and clinging to the hair covering my legs.
In what is probably ten minutes, I eventually make it to the door of his room. Using the frame, I push myself through and stumble into the hallway. I begin the long trek to my room. The only fucking safe place I have—for the time being. It takes me close to twenty minutes to make it to my bedroom door. My body is shaking with the exertion and sweat covers my entire body. The sweat seeps into the cuts causing them to sting even more than they already do.
Even though I want to collapse onto my bed and pass out, I know I need to wash this sweat and blood off of me or I won’t be able to sleep. I’ve never been able to sleep being dirty. Not even when Ben raped me for the first time—and that was the most pain I have ever been in. I still managed to take a fucking shower then, and I fucking can now.
I stagger into the bathroom and fall into the shower. I somehow manage to reach up high enough to turn the knob to some degree of warmth before completely collapsing onto the floor of the shower. The water rains down over me as I lie curled into a ball. The water stings but feels good at the same time. I watch through squinted eyes as all of the blood covering me washes down the drain next to my face. It swirls around and around in never ending circles.
15
Essa
I layin bed for days, only getting up long enough to use the restroom when I can no longer hold it. I don’t even bother to take a shower. I simply don’t give a shit. Every day Vincent brings food to my room, but it remains untouched. For some reason I can’t fathom, he’s left me alone. I haven’t seen, let alone talked to him going on six days now.
On the third day of me remaining in my room, he set the usual tray of food outside of my door. He knocked—per usual—but then something slid underneath the door before I heard his footsteps retreating. I waited until I heard him walking down the stairs before I forced myself to get up and move to the door. I didn’t bother to open it—I didn’t give a shit about the food. But what I did give a shit about was the phone lying on the floor with a piece of paper taped to it. My phone. I reach down, gritting my teeth but remaining silent. I tear off the paper and read it.
Essa. I’m choosing to let you go through whatever the fuck it is you’re going through, but just know I’m losing my patience and will force you to come to me eventually. Until then, baby doll, here’s your piece of shit phone. You can talk to your sister but don’t be fucking stupid.
He takes every jab he can at me, apparently even including my fucking phone. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s still a fucking phone. I took his dumb little note and tossed it into the garbage along with the fucks I give.
Now, it’s been three days and I haven’t heard a word from him since. He’s left the house every day to go work—I’m assuming—and every time before he does, he comes up to my room and fucking locks it from the outside so I can’t escape. Though I’m still in pain, I tried the door every fucking time, but it wouldn’t budge a millimeter. Clearly whatever the fuck he put on my door was strong because I even tried ramming the door down using my nightstand.
I gave up on my endeavor to escape and now I lie here, listening to song over fucking song, many of them on repeat. I haven’t even felt the need to fucking cut—the pain radiating all over my body enough to keep me satiated, for now. “Take It Out On Me” by Thousand Foot Krutch blares through my earbuds as I lean against the glass window, staring out into the night.
The sun set a few hours ago and I’ve remained in the same spot. My head pressed against the glass and my back leaning against the wall behind me. My ass has been numb for so long, it doesn’t even feel like I have one anymore. Vincent left this morning and I haven’t heard a peep in the house since. Not like I give a shit whether he’s around or not.
It makes no sense to me. This whole arrangement was supposed to be temporary, but here I am, over a fucking week later and still in his house. He hasn’t brought up taking me back home and frankly, I haven’t even asked. As much as I don’t want to be here, I most definitely don’t want to be there. I already know the second Ben gets me alone, he’ll in all probability end up killing me in a fit of rage because I’m sure he’s pissed he hasn’t gotten to “see” me.
I talked to Holley a little bit ago and I asked her if our parents have contacted her at all, just to be on the safe side. She assured me they haven’t and they don’t even have her number. She didn’t want them to have a way to contact her. Which I understand one hundred percent. Hell, they don’t even have the number to my phone.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I see a shadow emerge from amongst the trees. My blood freezes in my veins at the same time my heart stops. Even with the moonlight shining down, it’s still nearly impossible to make out the shadowy figure moving around. I slink back into my room, hiding myself from the view of the window. I crawl underneath my bed and hide myself behind the blankets hanging off of the side. They hide my form, but still give me the ability to see out of the window.
I keep my eyes fixed on the figure moving about. Awareness creeps into my consciousness the longer I stare, but fear overrides my senses and refuses to let me connect the dots. I lose sight of the figure and it makes me panic even worse than being able to see him. I shoot out from underneath the bed and rush to the window, my hands smacking onto the glass as I catch myself from tumbling forward.
Time physically slows as I turn my head two notches to the left and my eyes lock on the figure. Recognition seeps into my veins right as apprehension does. Two coexisting feelings swirling around in my head, confusing the hell out of me.
Vincent’s eyes remain locked on mine even through the distance. He takes deliberate steps out of the shadows, revealing his form to me. My eyes widen as I take him in. From his black hoodie down to his dirty, gray sweatpants. His white Nike shoes are stained with dirt and mud and when my eyes shoot back up to his face, I watch in a trance as he brings his hands to his hood and flicks it off of his head.
Once his body is completely free from the shadows, the moonlight shines down on him. But he’s not what has my attention anymore. It’s the blood stains on his hands. On his clothes. All. Over. Him. My eyes widen with fear as I begin to back up. He flicks the corner of his mouth up in a grin as he brings his index finger to his mouth, making a “shh” motion before winking and submerging himself back into the shadows—completely disappearing.
My heart pounds in my chest as I continue to back up until I catch my leg on the corner of my bed, tripping over it and falling backwards. I don’t even attempt to get up. I scooch my ass to the chair in the furthest corner of my room and hide in the corner. My body begins to shake and I’m fucking terrified. I’ve seen him covered in blood before, but it was my own blood. And it was happening to me. Watching him walk out of the trees covered in what I know to be someone else’s blood has me tripping the fuck out. I knew he had probably murdered people before, but seeing it myself,actually fucking knowing itis a whole different story.
What the fuck did I get involved in?
16
Vincent
I chuckleas I step back into the tree line, out of Essa’s line of sight. Watching the color drain from her face as she saw me emerge from the shadows. Lately she’s been in a funk and has locked herself in her room. I decided to let her be, mainly because I’ve had shit I’ve had to deal with which involves me leaving the house and it’s a lot easier to lock her ass up when she won’t leave her fucking room.
Leo called me this morning to let me know I had some shit I had to take care of. Meaning,someoneto take care of. It was simple, practically boring, and I’m slightly disappointed in the lack of a fight from my little friend hanging from the tree in the distance. This particular whore had decided to be a dumb bitch and attempt to steal from one of our many dealers littering the streets. She clearly failed and I’m sure, at this point, she’s greatly regretting her decision.
Grabbing her was easy enough. All I did was come up to her while she was working, pretending to be a John and she walked right into my car. Easy as pie. From there, with one swift punch to her temple, I knocked her ass out and brought her here. Now, she’s tied to a tree bleeding out.
In the middle of my task, I caught a glimpse of Essa out of the corner of my eye. She was leaning against her window, staring out into the woods with a blank expression on her face. As always, she distracted me and I gravitated towards her. She didn’t see me until I was close to the tree's edge because she suddenly perked up when she saw, what I’m assuming to be, was my shadow. But when I actually brought my body into the moonlight and she caught a glimpse of what I looked like,fuck.The fear which came over her was so tangible, I can still fucking taste it on my lips. The way her entire body locked up, frozen like a statue. Then she panicked and began backing away, as if it would fucking help. She knows she can’t run from me. I fuckingown her.My dick is already hard in my sweats and it tents against the stretchy material. Not ideal for cutting someone up, but it is what it is.
Now that I’m back at the task at hand, I don’t feel as giddy to continue. Once I caught sight of Essa again, the want to kill, theneedto kill has diminished greatly. Now all I want to do is play with my little toy. Groaning, I bring my knife to this bitch’s throat and quickly slash across, from left to right, ending her pain and suffering. She gurgles, choking on her own blood until eventually, she goes silent. Her cold eyes stare at the ground below, empty.
