Chapter One: House Of Nightmares
Lying in bed Emily mentally prepared herself for the nightmares to begin. She waited for the pressure to mount her, the whispers in her ear, the slimy lips on her face and the thrusting inside of her. Nightmares. Nightmares that seemed so unreal in the harsh light of day that she dared not speak of them; nightmares that she could never wake from in the darkness – because they were real.
Creaking floorboards in the corridor outside signalled the beginning of the onslaught. The doorknob twisted, the hinges squeaked open, and he was there.
Emily closed her eyes and dreamed herself away. Dreams. Sweet dreams.
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The morning light shined on Emily’s face, waking her. The smell of last night’s sweat was still upon her, her thighs damp, tongue furry with dehydration. She stepped out of bed to shower herself profusely.
She scrubbed her skin raw, brushed her teeth until her gums bled, then stared at her adolescent face in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed from scrubbing and her large eyes brimmed with tears of pain. This was usually where she left her thoughts in the morning. In a bid to forget the night before she excessively scrubs away her pain and continues with her day, but today was different. Today there was a mark.
On the right side of her neck was a red blotch. Emily stroked it- it felt dry and sore to touch. She’d tried to rub it away but it had only made the mark worse. Today the nightmares were visible on her neck, red raw and available for all to see – for her to see, and remember. The mark brought back the nightmares as she remembered the weight of her stepfather upon her, the sounds of his lips smacking with lust, his whispers in her ear, “you’re so much better than your mother.”
Emily grabbed the soap in front of her and furiously scrubbed at the mark (though she knew it would do no good) attempting to rub out the memories of the last night... and the night before... and the night before...
She hurtled the soap at the mirror and ran out the bathroom to her bare room. She had few possessions, but she grabbed a satchel from her closet and hurriedly crammed in some dresses, underwear and the small amount of money she owned. She slipped back into the bathroom for her toothbrush, threw it in her bag and left the house.
Walking down the street away from her house, she hadn’t thought it would be this easy. She had enough money for a bus ticket but had no idea where to head for. She walked toward the station, buzzing with feelings of excitement towards her new-found freedom and fear of what was to come, and what she had left behind. Her mother. Her four-year-old sister. What would become of them? Her sister was likely (she hoped) to be too young for her stepfather’s advances, but would her mother be okay? But, then, when had she ever cared for Emily’s welfare?
She stole one quick look back at the house of nightmares, then forward to the open road ahead of her. Shaking with anticipation, excitement and fear, she thought, ‘where is my mind?’
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