Page 36 of Shallow River


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After beating me black and blue, he turned to Barbie and made love to her. Laid her down on the kitchen floor and took her softly. It was a warning.

Be a good little Shallow Hill bitch, and you won’t get brutally raped and beaten. You’ll just get softly raped. In Billy’s head, that’s the better option.

With the way I feel, I’m thinking so, too.

We both knew Barbie would get it later. Billy was only giving her the illusion of safety. Barbie was smart enough to know that, though. Not for one second did she relax, though she pretended she was enjoying Billy’s dick inside of her regardless. If you snub Billy like that, he’ll snatch away that rare moment of tenderness and beat you till you need life support. I’d had already heard yelps of pain as I drug myself out of the house and into my car.

I paid her the same courtesy she paid me and drove the fuck off.

Or rather, swerved the fuck off. I definitely have a concussion, and everything feels broken. He broke my pinky when he slammed my hands in the freezer door and held it there as he took me from behind, that I’m sure of.

But it’s hard to catalog your injuries when everything feels broken.

Somehow, I make it out of Shallow Hill but I’m still a good ten minutes from home.

A home you can’t go to, River. What a depressing reminder that is.

All because I can’t just fucking stay away. It’s my own fault.

It’s my fault I was in that house. It’s my fault I was there when Billy showed up. It’s my fault he beat the shit out of me, and then raped me, too.

I put myself in that situation, so it’s my own fucking fault.

Fuck.

Sloppily, I wipe away the blood from my lip. For the final time, I swerve across the road. At this point, I’m an absolute menace to society. I’m basically driving drunk right now, and I could really hurt somebody.

I know misery loves company, but I’ve always been pretty intimate with the lonely life.

I pull the car over in a quaint neighborhood. Middle class. Nice homes with treated yards, but nothing over the top and excessive. The type of neighborhood that’s safe to park on the side of road on and not have to worry about getting mugged.

I would love to live in a house like these. Ryan’s house definitely falls in the ‘over the top’ category. But I grew up on nothing, so I don’t mind the simple things.

You put no value in something, you have nothing to hold onto. You put too much value in it, and you have everything to lose. I’ve already made that mistake because right now, it feels like I’ve lost everything.

A LOUD KNOCK JERKS me awake. Big mistake.

“Motherfuu… what the fuck?” I curse.

Pain. So much pain. I’m forced to swallow down the cry, otherwise it won’t ever stop. My bones feel broken, my lungs crushed, and my head splitting. Another more urgent knock sounds again next to my head.

If I was capable of lifting my arms, I’d clutch my head from the sound resounding in my skull. Pretty sure there’s a jackhammer jackhammering my head or… something like that. I groan and flop my head over to look out the driver’s window. All I can see is the blurry image of a dark figure crouched over, looking through the glass with their hands cupped around their eyes. It’d be scary if I wasn’t so scatter-brained.

I passed out. Not good. Especially when I have a concussion. A tugging noise follows the knocking.

Great. Now someone is trying to break into my car. While I’m in it, no less. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. Oh yeah, that deceptively cute neighborhood. I guess I did have to worry about mugging after all. Maybe I’ll just let ‘em. Best case scenario, they’ll kill me. Worst case, they’ll drive off with my car and leave me to die slowly.

A muffled voice follows next. It sounds like—is the person saying my name?

“River!”

Yup, that was my name. And they’re shouting it. I’ve gone delusional.

Fuck it. I unlock the door. If I die, they’d be doing me a favor. A huge fucking favor.

The door flies open and gentle hands clutch my shoulders. I groan, uselessly attempting to raise my hands to get their hands off me. It’s futile.

“River, what the fuck happened?”

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