I write songs, not tragedies

Chapter 7: It's him again

It is Oliver again. I thought after the party I won't see him again as he'll do his best not to see me. That's how much he hates me.

He locked the door and there it is again, that smirk. I know what's the next, an insult.

"A drunk sl*t" he said.

I don't have time to argue with him right now as I feel like I'm going to vomit.

"Can you stop?" I asked him nicely.

He just laughed and said "Beg me".

"Please.." I pleaded.

He took a step closer to me and turned me around to face the big mirror, gripping me tightly and said "Look at yourself you f**king wh*re. You're just like your mother".

I look like sh*t, with my make-up all messed up and still wearing the dress mother gave me. I may look crazy but not like a sl*t as he claimed.

"Tell me, Abi, how many men have gotten the taste of you?" He asked.

"Too many to count" I answered him sarcastically.

His face turned ugly. He grip my hands on his one arm and his other hand is making its way to my private area.

I'm trying my best to set myself free but he's strong then I suddenly passed out.