Page 20 of Drowned In Silence
As soon as Iwalk through the front door and close it behind me, my father pushes me by the shoulders, to my knees.
“Pray for your redemption, Child. I’d take you to my church, but I don’t want your filth spreading to that too. Now pray,” he commands.
I start my prayer, but before I can get a few words in, he grabs me by the hair, wrapping his fist into the black strands. He drags me from the cluttered entryway into the disgusting dining room. The floor is still sticky with years of spills and discarded scraps on the broken linoleum. The outside of the house is always spotless, beaming with the pride he pretends to have in front of the church. The inside– always filthy, just like him. Nice looking outside, but a monster beneath his skin.
He shoves my face down to the floor with his boots and puts his foot on my face. He takes his arm. shovingeverything off of the table. Bottles and plates shatter into a million pieces. Trash flies off, landing everywhere. Maggots crawl all over my body when a half-empty can of tuna falls onto my head. I cry out for help, which only makes him push his boot further into my face. My jaw pops, but doesn’t break.
Without a second thought, he lifts his foot, bends over, and hauls me to my feet. Taking both hands, he rips off my shirt, and pulls down my shorts.
“Look at you. You’re such a filthy whore, Dynah. Pimping yourself out to lowlifes, letting them use your pussy for money! My fucking pussy!” He reaches down and laces his hand in between my thighs. “This is mine! Not anyone else’s!”
I sob quietly, trying to hold my arms across my chest to cover myself.
He spins me around and traps me between the table and himself. Using one hand, he pushes my face toward the table, leaving me with no other option but to obey.
“If you’re going to whore yourself out, you must at least be worth something,” he tells me while unzipping his pants.
He starts grunting while jerking himself off behind me, I can hear his pudgy fist slapping the skin of his flaccid cock. I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but all I manage to do is make him think I like it.
“Yeah, shake your ass for me, Dynah. You dumb cunt. You don’t know right from wrong, but you know the feeling of a cock in between your lips, don’t you,” he yells.
He smacks my ass as hard as he can, watching my every move. I can feel the head of his dick when he lines up against me. Pushing into me, he releases an animalistic groan, throwing his head back and clenching his fist. It cuts my back open with his nails that seem serrated from years of chewing on them.
I lay motionless, forcing myself to take the pain, humiliation, and degradation. When he is finished, he will leave me alone. I can sneak out into the night and go to the bridge. I don’t want to ever have to deal with him again. Fuck my stalker. Fuck this life. Fuck everything. I’m so done.
He manages to thrust as rough as he possibly can, making my hip bones instantly bruise on the edge of the wooden table.
“Take your Father’s cock and think about what this means for us, Dynah. Now that you’re home, you can serve me and only me. Now that your mother is finally dead, I have no one. It could finally be us.” His own words spur him on, thrusting harder. Grabbing another fistfull of hair, he forces me to arch my back so he can speak directly into my ear. “Do you like making me happy, baby? You came from me, and now I’m going to come in you. It’s the circle of life.”
I shudder from the lewdness of his voice, and bite my lip. The harder I bite, the more I keep my mouth closed, and this will be over faster. If he would just finish… Please.
Another few minutes of torture and his thrusts become sporadic, his hands claw at my skin and pull my hair, until I’m sure I’m bleeding and bruised to high heaven.
“That’s it. Let. Me. Come,” he yells.
The only thing my father has ever done right, was to pull out and come on me. His come mixes with the bloody scratches, and he adds more fluid by spitting on me. He zips himself up and takes a step back. I’m left cold and broken on the dining room table.
I don’t have a moment to think before his hands are back on my body, peeling me off the table and throwing me back onto the ground. This time he decides to kick me while I’m down.
There is no rhythm to it, so I can’t decipher when to brace myself for the next round of pain. All I know is it won’t stop.
It seems like hours before he is finally finished, but I assume it’s only been a few minutes. My ribs are definitely broken and maybe my hip. I couldn’t help but to cry, and that’s why I am more hurt than usual.
“Welcome home, Dynah. Your stupid mother would be so happy if she could see you now.”
Run
Elliot
It’s been three fuckingdays and I haven’t been able to see her since she went into the house. I couldn’t figure out why she was waving at me, but now I know.
She was waving and asking for help.
I’m so fucking stupid! I didn’t realize that’s what that was, and now she has been taken from me.
“Elliot, you good bro? Or you still all fuckey over there?” Spencer asks me, spinning around in his chair.
We set up cameras outside of Dynah’s parent’s house so we can keep an eye on movement. But not seeing anything has me so stressed out I haven’t slept since the door shut behind her.