Page 28 of What Goes Around

It spread through me fast, sinking into my veins, heavy and suffocating. My limbs went slack, my thoughts slipping out of reach.

“No… no—” I tried to fight it, but my body wasn’t listening anymore.

I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t form a sentence. Everything felt slow and too fast at the same time.

I slipped into a drugged haze.

Then the pain came.

He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. The slap cracked across my face, sharp enough to make my ears ring.

I cried out, the sound breaking apart halfway through.

“Stop—please—just—stop—”

Another hit.

Then another.

His hands, his fists, his weight. There was no rhythm to it, no pattern I could prepare for.

I tried to curl in on myself, to protect something, anything, but he caught my wrists and forced them above my head, holding them there like I weighed nothing at all.

My clothes were gone before I fully understood what was happening. Fabric tearing, skin exposed, his knee forcing my legs apart no matter how hard I tried to resist.

“No—please—don’t—” My voice broke, rising into something desperate, something I didn’t recognize. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear—just stop—please—”

I twisted, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightened.

“Please,” I sobbed. “I’ll do anything—just don’t—”

I fought and screamed, but it didn’t stop anything.

Nothing stopped it.

He forced himself inside me.

Everything after that blurred together. Pressure, pain, the sickening awareness that my body was no longer mine.

Time stretched and twisted until it didn’t make sense anymore.

When it was over, he let go of me like I was nothing.

Like I had always been nothing.

And then he left.

He came back the next night.

And the next.

It became a pattern. The needle first, always the needle. That burning flood through my veins, dragging me under until I could barely think, barely move, barely exist. Just float.

Every time, he shoved my face into the mattress, forcing the damaged side down, grinding it in hard enough to make me gasp.

“I don’t want to look at that ugly face while I’m fucking.”

He called it training. Said he was breaking me in, making me into something valuable.