|Defence Of Chemical Madness|
This is what my nightmare was before I went onto Risperidone. This would reply every night. Every time I fell asleep. From suffering with this, I started to suffer with insomnia as I feared sleeping itself. Thought I'd let you in..
Alone again. The only light was the occasional bright flash creating a strobe of white across the small dirty basement. The only sound was the continuous rain fall against the smallest window. Pita-pata.
I can feel the rope around my wrists and ankles. So tight it stops the blood circulation to my hands and feet but not tight enough to cause pain. Something I've experience in all forms whilst I've been kept here. I could feel the blood on my face, arms, chest, back, legs. Dry from the last time he came to “visit”.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I don’t know what day it is, what the time is, even what month it is anymore. I have only seen two faces since my time here. His and mine. He loves to remind me how beautiful I am, but all I see in that mirror is the black eyed, pale girl staring back at me. The pain is too much for my conscious to cope with.
But what do you do when you're too scared to sleep? Too scared to close your eyes in fear that he'll come back to make you bleed again. Make you scream and cry in agony whilst he pins you to the floor, hands behind your head. To record you whilst he silently laughs to himself.
I begin to give up against his powerful build. I know that he’ll be back again. But when? It has never been like clockwork. Random. When he wants it. He gets angry when I don’t scream and fight back. Gets uncontrollably violent when the room is lit. My name written across the wall in my own blood. It’s there so I don’t forget it. Alexandra Richards. Written across the wall.
Click. Silence. Click.
Pulse racing. Petrified. He’s definitely there.
“Hey Alex! Thought I’d pop by to say hello. Make sure you’re feeling okay.” Liar. You’re here to go about your business again. “How did you sleep?”
The light is still off. Why? Still unable to breath properly in his presence made it obvious I was petrified.
“Oh! Don’t be scared of me. I won’t hurt you. When have I ever hurt you?”
Click. Beep. Click. He’s recording me tonight..
“What are you doing?” I panted, staring into the jet black surroundings, trying so hard not to move.
“And little-miss Alex speaks does she? I thought all you ever did was scream and moan and cry. What am I doing? I’m setting up a video camcorder. You remember this, don’t you?” His tone. Sarcastic and bladed with wrath and hatred.
“I remember..” I trembled. Shit.
“Oh, don’t be scared, Al.” His voice was right next to my face. I flinched away but it was too late. He had hold of my chin. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” His kiss so forceful and cold it made me moan in regret and self-loathing. How did he get so close without me hearing? What is he going to do to me now?
“So Al. What do you want to do tonight? Board games? Watch a movie? Have some –“ click “-fun?” His blade..
“Oh please.. Please no.” I muttered under my panic. Shifting left and right to try and get out of this rope and fight for myself. But it would always end the same. He would always win.
“Aww, are you upset that I’m making your choices so easy? I mean, come one. Of course you’d love to have some fun you little slut!” He spat.
The light sprung on like a lazer to my eyes. I recoil away in pain and cry out, my back to him. Shivering and whimpering in panic and shear adrenaline. The rope around my wrist loosened as I fell forwards, his hand firmly around my left wrist as he cut the rope around my ankles.
“Alex, Alex, Alex. Will you ever learn?” I fell limp in his grip as he lifted me by my wrist from the floor. All I could do was co-operate. Give him what he wants and maybe he won’t hurt you as much.
“Please. Please sir, oh please I-“
“Baby, baby! Please don’t cry babe. It’s okay, honest. Everything will be fine” He used his left hand to wipe the tears from my eyes, the blade inches from my face. So close I whimpered in emotional struggle as my mind frantically thought of ways to escape. The same routine. The same result. Here we go.
Pinned, both my hands in his right, above my head opposite to wall with my name on it. His body so close I can feel him brush against my waist and leg with his blade, cutting more holes into my jeans and drawing blood on my stomach and sides. A single cry leaves my lips and I’m muted by his kiss. It’s energy like venom leaving burns wherever it travels, leaving me breathless in his hold.
I push against him with whatever I have free; legs, chest, waist. But he only digs deeper and kisses harder in response making me weaker and easier as a result. A scream; loud, piercing and unmuted as the blade entered my right thigh at an angle; jagged.
“Oh! Do you like that? Let’s try this then.” A huge smirk set across his face as he twisted the blade, taking me to the floor on my back. He knelt across me and lend in whispering “l can make you very happy.”
He placed the blade on my chest, point towards my chin as he leant to kiss me again, removing the grip on my waist to concentrate on the button of my jeans. I pushed away from him but he pushed his weight onto my chest so the blade could insert into my collarbone.
Screaming. Crying. Moaning. Just like he said. Vulnerable. Weak. Defenceless.
“I love you. I have always loved you.” He whispered, sending cold electricity down my spine. And the rest was moans and screams and cries. Beaten. Broken. Bruised. For his fun and games.