As I walk through the jaded glass of my past, it reminds me of all of the cuts I endured and how much pain the past has caused me. My grandmother’s words ring through me. You need to try and forget to move on, the past is the past, and you need to live in the here and now, to learn and to move on with your life. But, the past is haunting my dreams and tearing at my soul.
How do you stop the hounds of hell in your dreams? “Make it stop; make them go away. I need to sleep, to heal and not feel this pain. No more pain please.” I beg the night. “I want to feel pleasure not pain.”
The voice in my dream whispers, ‘There is always pain in pleasure and pleasure in pain.’
“Why do I dream of pain? Have I somehow pissed the off gods that they torment me in my dreams? These are not your ordinary childhood nightmares; these start out nice, then bam — I am slammed with it — soaked to the core in pain.” Throwing my head back screaming as my body feels like it is being ripped to shreds from the inside out. “Where have the pleasant dreams filled with love and happiness gone? I just need a bit of happiness to keep me going so I do not drown in the darkness that is now surrounding me.” I beg and plead for answers, but no one ever answers me.
That damn voice keeps telling me to ‘let the pain go and pleasure will follow,’ but how is that even possible?
The dreams about what was to come in the future have all dried up and left me. Last night was just like all the rest this week; walking through my past seeing all the pain. I want to move on, need to move on and make this pain stop. His laughter is filled with more pain, his voice is like dull knives on the inside if my skull scraping slowly to cause the most pain. I need to wake up. I tell myself to wake up.
His voice is in my head again as he laughs that deep baritone laugh before saying. ‘Not time yet, my little Star, not yet, but soon very soon.’ I try to shake my head to make his voice go away, but that never work, it only causes my head to hurt more and fall back into the nightmares.
I went in search of answers and instead find a demented man who kidnapped me and swears he is trying to help me work through who I really am. All I want to do is escape and move on with my life. I don’t even care if I get answers anymore; the pain just needs to stop.
He told me today was ‘all pleasure and no pain.’ God, if that was truth I would be in heaven! Why is he keeping me here? I just want to wake up and go home to my family.
He laughs at me and says. Not yet, Star not yet.”
I am so sick of him telling me that and calling me that stupid name. I wish he would curl up in a whole and die slowly and very painfully. Those are the words I really want to scream in his face instead demand, “Why do you call me Star? That is not my name!”
“Yes it is,” he says, “You are mine now, come here.”
He drags me into the bathroom and strips off my clothes. Fighting him only causes broken bones and he still get what he wants, so instead I just stand there like a child waiting for the chance to run to freedom. He turns the water on and pushes me under it. The hot water feels so good on my sore bruised skin. I feel like he left me alone since he is not right there touching me. Then all of a sudden he is behind me touching my back with one finger. He slides it slowly up and down my spine, sending goose flesh everywhere. He laughs, and then moves in closer so his front is touching my back and I realize he is naked as well.
I beg him to stop touching me.
He says “But I have not done anything yet, my Star.”
Then he pushes my legs wide apart and puts one of his hands on my curly red mound and starts to rub his finger up and down my slit, rough but slow. I try to close my legs again but he will not let me.
“Come on, Star,” he says. “Do not fight me tonight, I told you pleasure, not pain.”
He grabs a fist of my short curly red hair and pulls it hard and back towards his mouth before whispering in my ear. “Or are you craving pain tonight? Tell me now, Star, pain or pleasure tonight, which will it be?”
“Neither! I want out!” I scream at him. “Just let me leave or finally kill me!”
“No, Star, please.” he whispers, “Let me do this, let me show you pleasure,” he said gently in my ear.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the shower to a wonderfully smelling bubble bath. When did he fill the bathtub? He ‘asks me to get in,’ not push or demand, but asks me. I am so shocked by this that I crawl into the huge oversized tub. It feels so warm and safe almost like it has been years since the warmth surrounded me and entered my battered soul. I instantly lower myself deeper into it enjoying it even though part of me wishes I would not, closing my eyes for the briefest of moments while my mind screams at me. Why? Do not enjoy this, it is only a trick, you know what will happen!
The movement of the water has me opening my eyes, and I see him enter the tub. He pushes my legs aside and enters me. Before a scream can fully escape my lips, he kisses me. As I raise my left hand to push him away, he grabs both my hands in one and holds them over my head. He will not stop kissing me, or holding both my wrists in his one hand. He never kisses me. He starts moving ever so slowly down my body with his free hand; still his lips never leave mine. Why, is he doing this to me? He always fucks me hard, then leaves me to think about what just happened.
I close my eyes and try to find a peaceful memory to hold onto. He stops and demands I open my eyes. He looks into them and says, “Star, please stop fighting me. You will know the truth soon. Let me help you.”
As soon as I open my mouth to yell at him, he is kissing me again and fucking me hard. Oh for the love of all the gods, please make him stop!
I woke up…Wait I just woke up from this terrible nightmare!
I jump out of bed and start to run for the door, only to stop dead in my tracks. “Where the fuck am I? How in the hell did I get here? Wait that is not the door to my room…” I let the words trail off to the empty room.
My hand shakes violently over the handle, debating if I want to open the door. Turning the knob at the pace of a snail before just as slowly pulling it open, I smell coffee. Oh bittersweet drink of the gods. I need you flowing through my veins to wake me further from nightmares and show me the light. Slowly walking towards the smell, not knowing where I am going, but the coffee is calling me like a siren, pulling me with an invisible chain down the path straight to it.
The hall is a pale blue color with nothing on the walls but the paint. The floor is beautiful dark cherry hardwood. I enter the kitchen of my dreams and stop; HE is standing there with his back to me. I want coffee so bad my mouth is drooling from the smell, but I am no longer in THAT room, so I turn away from the smell of coffee and him, looking down the long empty hallway as his voice calls out to me.
“Good morning, Star, I have coffee for you with hazelnut creamer, that is your favorite, correct?”
Frozen in fear that he caught me outside the room without his permission, my body starts to shake from head to toe.
“Please, come and sit down,” he says from behind me.
He said ‘PLEASE’ again, I thought to myself.
I say, ‘‘No thanks,’’ then turn my body more towards that long empty hallway and start to run as flight or fight kicks in. He is suddenly there holding my hair tight in his fist.
“SIT DOWN NOW!” he growled in my ear. He is back to ‘pain’ as his voice sends my head into an instant migraine, with a thousand little nails scrapping the insides of my skull. He drags me over to a plain brown wooden kitchen chair and tosses me in it. My tear filled eyes stare at the ugly, worn wooden table in front of me.
“Why is it you only respond to pain? Don’t answer that I am sure you have no idea. Drink this, you need your strength today,” he tells me with such hatred and anger in his voice.
“Why do I need my strength more today than any other day?” He turns and just looks at me like I have two heads. I just said that in my head right? He did not hear me, right? Oh shit he did!
He grabs a fist full of my hair and drags me half out of the chair and kisses me hard, raping my mouth with his tongue.
Pulling away, he glares into my eyes. “Every time you question me or do something I don’t like, that is your punishment. Unless you LIKE me kissing you, Star? So tell me, kisses or drink the fucking coffee?”
My response is to launch myself at him screaming, “DROP DEAD, ASSHOLE!”
Oh God, the pain is back and it is worse than it ever has been. It feels like someone is burning my soul from inside my body and ripping my head apart with dull nails.
“MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE!” I beg whoever will listen to me. “Just kill me now or set me free.”
I fall to the floor, gasping for air. It hurts to breathe… He is standing in front of me again. When did he move?
He whispers to me, “Get up, Star, and drink your coffee.”
This time I do not fight or say anything, just get up and walk over to the chair and sit down to drink the coffee. With the first sip, the pain in my head started to subside. With the second sip, my soul started to feel like someone put a slow running hose on it. I will not tell him how good the coffee tastes. Just continue to drink the warm yummy hazelnut coffee.
So the best way to survive him is to make him happy and fuck his brains out. Fine, if that is what pleases him and makes him stop hurting me, that is what will be done. Then I can plot a way to kill him. I think to myself while sipping my coffee slowly.
He tried to teach me about some powers. Over and over again he tried to have me start something on fire, or throw something across the room with me using only my mind power. The more I tried to use my mind to pick the object up and throw it, the more exhausted I was getting, and the angrier he was getting.
Suddenly, my mind and body have had enough and my mouth gets the better of me. “You know, you fucking piece of shit, I am human and humans need more than just coffee to live on. So if you would have let me eat something in the past three days maybe I would not be so fucking tired and maybe, just maybe, I would be able to think about what the fuck you are trying to teach me!”
He stalks over to me and grabs my arm. I am trying to protect myself from the pain that is coming and close my eyes as he brings his hand up. I swear he was going to hit me, instead he cups my cheek, with his hands running his fingers under both of my eyes, before he flashed us to his kitchen. He gently sat me down in the same chair he had forced me into earlier and went to the fridge and started pulling things out. Then he went to the cupboards and pulled things out from there as well.
Within minutes of him bringing me into the kitchen, the smell coming from the stove was intoxicating. I was literally starting to drool. My eyes were starting to get very heavy and it was hard fighting to stay awake. Slowly, my head fell in my hands on the table as the room started to spin and my eyes closed on their own. I did not care what he thought, nor did I care.
He gently nudged my arm and told me to wake up. I slowly opened my eyes and saw him holding a huge mountain of food in his hands. I sat up as he placed a couple of plates down in front of me with a glass of ice water. On one plate there was a steak and baked a potato. On another plate there was a huge salad. He runs his hand gently down the right side of my face then whispers with a heated but gentled voice, “Eat it all, Star, I don’t want to see a single scrap of food left, do you hear me?”
I nod my head, still not fully awake and start in on the salad; then move on to the baked potato, saving the steak for last. When I ate everything on the plates, he took all the dishes away, walked me into the bathroom and stripped the clothes from my body, then pushed me gently into the shower. When he was satisfied, he picked me up and carried me back to the room he kept me in.
WOW! The sex was amazing… What the fuck was I thinking?
He is asleep. He never slept in front of me before. Now is my chance to kill him and get away. Slowly moving off the bed, trying not to make a sound, I make my way into the kitchen and grab a knife from the butcher block on the counter. I made my way back to his room, standing there shaking with the knife clutched tightly in my right hand at my side holding my breath and praying he does not hear me or open his eyes.
When he does not move the entire time I stand there holding my breath, my harm finally swings up from my side and stabs him where his heart should be. I pull the knife out and turn to flee the room, but there is a man standing in the doorway. Not thinking, I stab him in the chest as well, pull the knife out and run with the knife still clutched tightly in my hand.
Sometime during panting from running around and panicking, I finally find a door that leads outside. I tuck the knife in the back of my jeans under my shirt, staring down at myself for a quick second; I am amazed there is no blood on me.
I look around and notice several landmarks; fear strikes me that I am so close to my home. All of my emotions push my legs faster and faster in the direction of home. I run to my home where my family should be and stop dead in my tracks, something is wrong.
I stand on the sidewalk across the street from my home and just stare as my mind stumbles over what is in front of me: cars that are not my husband’s, nor mine.
Was I really awake this whole time? Was my brain protecting me from something make me believe I was having a terrible nightmare?
Those questions just seem to hang in the air as a kaleidoscope of emotions race through my body. The one who I thought was killed first is behind me, closing his hand over my mouth to stifle my scream! Then we are back in his place.
When he releases his hand from my mouth, I scream at him as the tears threaten to spill from my eyes. “You killed my family and I will find a way to kill you.”
The other man whom was stabbed second is standing there laughing at me.
“Honey, if you do find a way, tell me how you did it, because as far as I know he cannot be killed.”
This reminds me of the books I like to read, but they are just books right? The author just made them up, right? What if I did something horrible and this is what hell is really like?
I must have fainted because we are on a bed I have never seen before and he is looking at me worried. “Just go crawl in a hole and die already or kill me. Either way, just make this fucking hell stop already!”
His friend laughed at me again from the open doorway.
“Honey, he cannot die. He is immortal. So, if I were you, I would get over your fetish of wanting him dead; it will never happen.” His friend closed the door and his heavy steps could be heard walking down the hall.
Suddenly, the annoying pain in my ass is laying next me, naked.
“Please, Star, call me by my name, and stop calling me annoying pain in the ass or annoying painful one.”
“Why?” I brace for the pain that always comes when I ask him a question. There was no pain this time, only him running his fingers across my abdomen.
“My name is J`air, Star. Call me by my name, please.”
“J`air, go crawl in a whole in hell and stay there!”