Page 49 of Depravity

I can feel his warm breath on my face, I can smell that intense hit of his aftershave. My skin erupts into goosebumps as sheerterror creeps down my spine at the thought of him being so close to me.

His thumb brushes aside the last remnants of my tears.

“Let’s get you up.” He says, pulling the covers off.

Cold air hits my body. It’s soothing, relieving against the bruises but the feeling is short lived, stolen almost immediately as he reaches down and scoops me up into his arms.

I whimper as he presses me into him and thankfully, he seems to take that as a response to my pain and not a response to him touching me.

He carries me through to the bathroom and places me down delicately on the ridiculous couch in there.

I watch him warily, the way a mouse does a tiger, preparing for the moment that playfulness turns to something deadly.

He pulls something out of a drawer, fiddling with the box to get it open.

When he holds it out to me, I stare back dumbfounded. We’re doing this now? Surely, it’s too soon? My thoughts race as he gestures to the toilet.

“I’ve fucked you enough times.” He says, proudly. As if it’s some sort of Olympic sport and he’s already claimed the gold.

I can barely muster the strength to walk, and I almost fall face first into the pan. Conrad has to grab me, has to help me which if anything, makes it even more degrading.

I don’t even know how to do these tests. How they work.

“Piss on it.” He says, clearly seeing my confusion.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust, but I know I can’t refuse him. He’ll only force me anyway and I doubt I’d survive another beating.

I can’t look at him as I follow his instructions. Shame heats my face. He holds his hand out expectantly and I put the plastic into it, doing everything I can to avoid my fingers touching his.

What if I’m pregnant?

What then?

I don’t know how long the test takes but it feels like forever as I sit here, paralysed.

Will he treat me better if I am carrying his child? Will he stop hurting me? Stop raping me?

My stomach turns at the thought of it. Of something growing inside me, of a part of Conrad now forever tied to me.

I don’t want it.

I don’t want his child. If I’m pregnant, I’ll never be able to escape. I’ll never be able to leave.

I bite my lip hard, trying to keep in the sobs. This can’t be my future. This can’t be it. No loving God would allow this to happen.

“Fuck.”

I know from the tone that it’s negative.

The relief that washes over feels indescribable. I feel suddenly saved, I feel suddenly spared. I clap my hands to my mouth but it’s too late to hold the sound in and it escapes, filling the room, echoing off the tiles like a merry little tune.

“You think it’s funny?” Conrad snarls. “You dare to fucking laugh?”

The plastic test hits my head with enough force to bruise.

His hand grabs my hair, wrenching me up and I’m thrown across the room like I weigh nothing. My body collides with the solid door frame, and

I crumple once more.

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