LONDON, APRIL 27th, 1872
I try my best to push the Count off me, determined not to let him keep his hands on me a moment longer. I don’t want to give into the panic, that is threatening to overwhelm me, because that won’t help me. I know that if I let myself be afraid, I won’t get out of this situation.
“GET OFF ME!” I roar, ignoring the excruciating pain in my scalp, as I shake my head to try to fend off his slimy mouth. He grabs my chin to prevent me from moving my face, already closing in on me, but I don’t wait for him to succeed.
I don’t know what takes over me, but I find myself jamming my forehead into his nose with as much force as I can, making him groan in pain and stumble backwards. He is clutching his face with his eyes closed, letting out sounds that I don’t wan
