Page 2 of Sins & Paradise
Miguel grunts and knees my legs apart. All the fight is gone. I mutter stop over and over, but the words mean nothing to him.
When I feel his flesh pressing up against mine, I do the one thing I know to do: pray.
The plea to God rolls off my tongue as I express my sorrow for letting something like this happen and my wish for it all to be over.
Pain ricochets through my body as Miguel forces his way inside me. Tears spill down my cheeks as I keep my eyes glued to the ceiling. The steady rocking up and down and the slicing pain between my legs are the only sensations my body is feeling.
It feels like it's going on for hours. Feels like every part of my soul is being tainted by this horrible act.
I feel Miguel's breath against my cheek. He's saying something, but I can't hear the words. I don't know what he wants or what more he can take from me. I just want this to be over.
Up and down. Up and down.
Finally, he slams into me once so hard I'm transported back to where I'm laying, and the prayers falter in my mind.
"Well, that was worth the wait," Miguel laughs and lifts up from my body.
"Now, was that so bad? I bet you really liked it." He pulls out of me, and I wince at the feeling.
I don't bother answering him. What's the use? I'm already broken.
"Don't be like that, Angela. Tell me it was good." Miguel tilts his head like a dog, but I ignore him.
"You fucking bitch! When will you learn?" Miguel picks his fist up and brings it down on the side of my face. The world spins, and I feel my body turn with the strike. Miguel stands over me shouting, but I'm still spinning from the last hit. He's angry. Even after what he's done to me, he's angry.
Soon, the one blow turns to many. Strike after strike. Punching and kicking until I can do nothing but curl into a ball and pray to the Lord to take me away.
It seems like the Almighty isn't answering prayers tonight, at least not for me.
***
The side of my head is pounding the next time I open my eyes.
I do my best to look around but I’m only seeing one side.
“Oh god.” I mutter and lift my hand to my face. He’s blinded me. The bastard blinded me.
I gently press my fingers to my face and notice that my eye is swollen shut. That’s why I can’t see out of it. I pray whatever damage Miguel did isn’t permanant but I’m not going to hold my breath.
Sitting up I look around the now empty room. Under me is an abstract pool of my own blood. Where before I focused on the few drops of crimson on the ivory rug. Now I focus on the wide spread under me.
A loud crash followed by raucus laughter captures my attention and I look toward the door. I can hear my father, brother and Miguel in the next room. They are in their having a good time while I lay here in agony.
I wonder if they even thought about the fact that I could be dying. Do they even care?
My one good eye blurs with tears and I swipe my hand across my face to get them away. I don’t have time to cry. I have to get out of here. Slowly, I get up on my feet. Every muscle in my body hurts. I don’t know if I’m still bleeding or not but it seems like my insides are on fire.
Slowly, I tip toe to the door of the room just to check where my family is. Glasses clink and the three of the talk without a care in the world.
I turn to look into the room and figure out what I need to do. This may be my only chance. I can’t fight them but I can get away. That’s my only option. I have to get away from them.
My eyes settle on a window and I rush to lift it.
The first few tugs do nothing. “Please god. Please.” I frantically whisper as I pull once again on the window. This time the window slides up and I look down at the world below. I have nothing out there but I’m willing to start over again if it means getting away from this hell.
I don’t take anything with me.
I simply crawl out the window, let me legs hang over the edge and drop down.