Page 39 of A Dark Duet

If it means dying, then so be it. I have nothing and no one but Brie, and I cannot let these monsters do this to her.

Eight…

Nine…

I can feel Brie trying to wake me up. I look over at her with blank eyes.

“Oh my god, Giselle!” She is sobbing uncontrollably while her mom is still passed out on the couch.

I can hear her screaming for help. Suddenly, everything goes black.

* * *

I wake up in what feels like five minutes, but according to Brie, it’s been five hours.

“You were in shock. I thought you were dying.” She sobs and I hold out my hand to take hers in mine.

“He did this to you, too?”

She nods her head. “Yes, but not this bad, Giselle. He wouldn’t stop and kept going and going. Oh god!” She winces and sobs, tears streaming down her face. Her cheek has an ugly bruise forming on her skin that must hurt.

“It’s okay, Brie. Don’t cry, I would do it again if it meant that he wouldn’t do this to you. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. If I didn’t call you to come with me to go to my mom, this would have never happened.”

“No, it would have happened to you alone and you could have been left there for dead. Your mom was out of it and didn’t even know what the fuck was going on.”

My voice is scratchy and my throat is raw and sore as I begin coughing, trying to speak, pissed off at her mother.

“Shh, Giselle. Calm down.”

I look at her tears scarring my cheeks. “Promise me you will tell no one about this.”

“I promise, no one has to know.” She says her voice cracking.

“Please, Brie.”

“I promise,” she repeats.

I’m discharged with a lot of medication they give to rape victims. I’m lucky that there wasn’t so much damage that I couldn’t have children. Doesn’t matter though, who would want a child with a girl like me? I was basically gang-raped by a disgusting drug dealer.

I’m damaged, worthless, and broken. I wince, still feeling the pain between my legs as a reminder that it wasn’t a dream. It was real and it will haunt me forever and I know I will never be the same.

Dealing with the pain through painkillers, Brie still thinks it’s a good idea for her to stay at my apartment. I’ve woken up in cold sweats every night for the past two nights, screaming for someone to get off of me.

Brie is there, watching me crying myself to sleep. She holds me and rocks me back to sleep every time they come, the memory playing in my head.

I have to go back on Monday to begin the lessons as promised on Tuesday. I continue to sob in Brie’s arms. “I can’t hear them, or you screaming for help, but I can still feel it burning, and I want to throw up. When I wake up, I can’t breathe,” I whisper.

“The therapist at the clinic said you will have these types of episodes. Like PTSD…”

“I know. I just want it to go away, Brie.”

“In time, it gets better. Maybe going to Vegas and teaching the girls will be good,” she says as she hugs me close.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can look at Nate the same, ever. I feel dirty and don’t want him to touch me or anyone to touch me. I will teach the girls, but I will come home as soon as Thursday and dance at the club. I’ll try. How’s your face.”

He face was beat up bad on her eyes. She covers it up with sunglasses and her hair. It must hurt but she waves it off.

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