Page 18 of Girls Night
The fingers begin to assault me violently as the feeling of someone’s hot breath prickles my skin.
A knee roughly shoves my legs apart, and I close my eyes, gritting my teeth when I hear the sound of a belt buckle being unclipped. Apparently, fingers violating my core isn’t enough to satisfy this fucking dog.
This shouldn’t be happening.
No one is allowed to touch me unless I give them permission, but I wasn’t paying attention.
If this happens to me, it means that Papa is still safe.
Angry tears spill down my cheeks as my body is turned violently, and my face is slammed into the bathroom door.
Don’t cry.
Not over this.
I bite down on my lower lip as the knee shoves my legs as wide as they will go, then grunt again when a cock is crudely shoved into me.
The trickle of blood that soon begins to warm the inside of my thigh makes me furious as the feeling of brute flesh being thrust in and out of me tears my walls, causing me to grunt in pain.
But rage won’t help me now.
I have to allow this to happen if I want to see tomorrow. At least, that’s my hope.
Another vicious thrust into me, more hot breath on my neck, and I do my best not to beg for a reprieve.
That’s not what a daughter of El Señor should do. We were taught to be strong, and that’s what I’m trying my damnedest to be right now.
My body thumps angrily against the bathroom door repeatedly until I’m sure I’ve bitten a hole through my lip in an attempt to keep this assault as silent as I can.
And just when I think I can’t take anymore, it’s over as quickly as it starts. My hair is balled into a fist, my head is pulled back, and my face is smashed purposely into the door.
Before the darkness takes me, I have enough time to see the beaten down, black shoes that walk out of the door.
Dear God, let me die from this shame.
* * *
The pain is blinding when I try to open my eyes. I blink rapidly a few times before laying the back of my hand against my forehead.
I can hear voices now, but I’m not sure who they are and almost instantly am ready to take another assault.
Until I hear him.
My father, his voice thick with worry as it cracks, and I’m ashamed that he has to see me like this.
I reach down blindly to cover myself, to present as decently as I can, but I don’t feel my dress. I feel the warmth of my favorite blanket draped across the lower part of my body, and it dawns on me slowly that I’m on my bed, in my own room, safe and surrounded by the ones that love me.
Or at least that’s my hope.
I don’t want to open my eyes and find myself in a hospital because I feel that would be more of an embarrassment to my father than anything else.
“Sofi, open your eyes, mija.”
I close my eyes tightly before I force them open and almost sigh in relief.
I see his face now. He’s sitting on my bed next to me in my own room, a hand on my arm. His face is red, and he looks like he’s doing his best not to cry, but I know my father, and he’s much stronger than that.
“I’m fine,” I tell him in a thick tone. Smacking my lips together a couple of times, I cringe at the sharp stinging sensation the motion produces.
