Patara
My hands trembled when Dylan finally left me alone. His voice didn’t soothe me like he wanted it to. I could hear nothing over my inner thoughts that tried to destroy me and make me regret every breath I ever took. It all led me right here, in this room made as my prison..
My entire body felt sore and disconnected from me. I know I asked for it, but I wish I could take it back. I always imagined my first time would be with someone I loved and someone who loved me—not wanted to own me. I imagined it would have been romantic with roses and candles.
Instead it was all rushed. He was desperate for me—for his own release and didn’t stop until he got it. If only my mind was sane enough to tell him no.
I could hear my mother’s voice in the back of my head. Over and over I replayed the scene where she would eventually find out that I wasn’t as pure as she hoped I was for whatever husband she chose. It made me feel shameful and disgusting. My skin prickled and I suddenly fel