Then I made him pancakes for breakfast. A tight pain in a place I never knew could hurt. It was summer break, and she was in charge of babysitting me. While on a test drive, a hood was thrown over his head, his hands and feet were bound, and he was taken to a location where he was held. Then I cut myself for the first time. This dude had issues.
Anyone could see us, but the streets were empty. My pants were pulled down, his fly was open, and he was inside me. This time, he stood in shadow on a beach. He screenshotted his Uber app. Its a long story, but here it goes. This guy had a family. They were threatening us the whole time saying if we made any noise they would kill us. I believed it when my rapist called me a slut, blamed myself and was sure everyone else would, too. The two of them had arranged that I would be taken up to the country house. I meticulously counted yogurt-covered raisins into Tupperware every morning. He told me that he had gotten carried away. That smile was enough to undo me. My mom took everything I had that I could use to end my life, locked up all of our guns, knives, razor blades, etc. I cleaned up as best as I could and when she finally let me go back downstairs, I curled up with my sleeping younger sister to keep her safe as well. When the truck finally stopped they told us to get out and to turn around. She was 6 years older, and my sister. She somehow got loose from her rope and started to look for an escape. I sprayed that fucker right in the face and ran for my life. Once we were on the floor, he asked me to have sex. I mean, who forgets about a flight? All of his kidnappers were killed during his rescue. It took me 15 years to realize that the only way to put my broken pieces back together is to tell my story a hundred, a thousand times—until that shame goes away. One night, I had had enough of waiting. It was angry and declarative. Then the pain knocked me back into it. Fueled by a need for purpose before dying, I stopped myself from downing the rest of the blood-pressure pills I had laid out. I feel that if I did not knock at that door the outcome would have been different, the driver could not do another thing because now someone had seen him.
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