His hands feel hungry and rough around the circumference of my wrists. His knees pinning my legs down feels like he’s trying to snap them in two. I feel my knuckles swelling from fierce pleading, but not helping. Like in a movie, with the change of the atmosphere, a key change, and a swell, I find my skirt above my waist and my panties moved to the side. In three unyielding pumps, he broke down walls I decided to keep in waiting. I felt the hoarseness starting to form in the halls of my throat, and silence beginning to take hold as I realize there is no point in screaming and fighting, because we are alone and I am too weak to fight. 1,796 seconds. That’s all I could do. I count. I take in the patterns in the wall, the books in his room I didn’t see before but would have loved to read, the rhythm of his head board hitting the wall, that sounds like a beat to a song I’d bob my head to, how the Netflix menu is up waiting for us to push play on another episode. I observe the feelings. Everything is in slow motion. I am feeling everything. Every note of his breath on the side of my face, the mattress, feeling like I am in between a rock and a hard place, his hands, rewinding to when his hands were where I wanted to be but now feeling like a hostage situation. He smells like he has been working all day with a hint of the cologne he sprayed on before I came over instead of just showering, his body is determined, his beard is scratching me, and his moans feel like snakes being shoved in my ear drums. My body feel like pins and needles, rug burn, and paper cuts. I feel my heart breaking with each thrust, my trust deteriorating with each breath I take, my faith thinning as the analog clock mounted on his wall slowly kept changing second by painful second. This must be my fault. If only I were stronger. If only I were firmer. If only I saw the look change in his eyes and took heed of the energy switching to a nightmare. If only. I just followed the light of his smile thinking light must be good, but looks can be deceiving. I snap to physical reality, where he is slumped on my body. His full weight smothering me, which I openly accept with open arms. Smother me. He rolls off me. With numb legs I run, and don’t think twice about looking back.
Source: Giphy