Saved by the sea

Chapter 10

"Why are you still dressed?"

Oliver's voice echoed throughout the room as he walked in through the door and, without even stopping for a moment to even look at me, walked straight to the bathroom.

"YOU BETTER BE NAKED AND READY WHEN I GET BACK, OR ELSE...!"

His words shocked me more than anything that happened today. In complete shock, I stood there staring at the door he walked through as I tried to process what had just happened. In no reality or worse scenario did I expect him to act like this.

I was shocked to the core and with no idea what I should do right now... how I should act.

Well, there was one thing I knew, and it was that there was no chance in hell that I would do any of that.

So I just stood there, still in shock, but with a bit of burning rage awakening in my chest with every passing moment.

It took Oliver around two minutes to get back from the bathroom and whatever he was doing in there.

He walked out of the bathroom with his jacket missing and with a slight sway in the way he was moving.

Only now did I realize that he was completely drunk. This realization came with this scene of uneasiness.

And I mean he was really drunk, like he could not stand up straight without swaying a little.

"Why are you still dressed, little b***h?"

Okay, it is clear that there is no point in talking to him right now.

"Oliver? What...Hmm... maybe you should sit down..."

"Shut the hell up! Get naked and get on the bed!"

He growled as he stepped closer to me. For a moment it looked like he was going to fall, so out of pure instinct I stepped forward to steady him, but before I could even reach him, I felt him strike my cheek with the back of his hand.

The hit was so hard that I went flying to the floor.

Hot tears were rolling down my cheek as I tried to blink away the pain and wrap my head around what was going on here... how the hell did I end up in this position?

Before I could even stop the tears running down my cheek, he was leaning over me as he grabbed me by the hair at the back of my head. Without any warning or ceremony, he dragged me to the bed and pushed me face down on to it.

I felt one of his palms right between my shoulder blades, pushing me into the mattress, trapping me beneath him. At the same time, with his other hand, he tried to pull up the skirt of my dress, but as it was so tight there was no chance for it to happen. So he just ripped it apart.

Shock and panic filled my mind, making this all feel like a movie... like it was not real.

After I heard his pants getting unzipped, everything became blurry and fuzzy in my mind. I guess my brain was blocking it in an attempt to save itself from all the pain and trauma of what happened.

All I remember is pain and humiliation, that I was sure that I would never be able to shake off.

The next thing I remember clearly was waking up... on the floor next to the bed.

My body was covered in bruises and I felt pain in places I never felt it in before. Slowly I felt myself curl into fetal position as I felt a puddle of what I could only guess Oliver cumn and my blood drying in between my legs. The feeling and realization of what has happened made me want to throw up and cry.

But the tears weren't coming.

I just felt numb...

I just felt empty...

Like everything inside of me was replaced with darkness and there was no place for anything else inside of me.

It was eating away at me bit by bit, until I felt just like one big dark blob. I laid on that cold floor till I felt myself starting shake and the feeling of what was left in my body was still there. Slowly I stood up and dragged myself into the bathroom.

Once there I avoided looking at the mirror, not ready to face my own reflection... not that I think I would ever be ready to face myself after what happened.

Slowly I pulled off what was left of my dress and just walked under a scorching hot spray of water.

But I felt nothing.

Water was running down my body, but it did not make me feel cleaner...

Or warm my insides...

So I just stood there... under the spray... until my skin turned all wrinkly and the hot water turned warm and then cold. It was the sign that I had to get out of the shower.

I stopped the water and just stood there for a few moments, staring at the wall in front of me. It took what felt like enormous amounts of effort to force myself to walk out of the shower.

Once again, I ignored the mirror, looking the opposite direction as I walked past it, refusing to look at myself.

Truth to be told, I was afraid of what I might see. In a way, I guess it would make it that much more real...

So I just walked out of the shower, dripping wet and walked straight to the bedroom.

By the door, there was my bag with clothes for today. I gathered them and walked back into the bathroom. As I walked past the bed, Oliver still hadn't moved. He laid in the same position and a part of me wanted him to be dead and not just asleep.

Once back in the bathroom, I dried off and dressed myself in this robotic state, not thinking about any of it, just getting through the motions.

And I would probably have stayed like that, stuck and cold, but I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror.

What I saw was enough to shake me up.

I saw a red bruise at the side of my face.

My now very short hair was a mess, making me look just a tad bit more crazy and broken.

I felt tears building up inside me as I took in the view in front of me.

It felt like they were building up and that the damn that was holding back this flood would break at any moment, washing away everything in its wake.

But there is no time for this now.

My father is waiting to have breakfast with me and I can't let him see me like that.

It would break his heart... and probably even literary. There was no need to hurt him like this, so I pulled on an emotionless mask and applied a heavy layer of makeup to cover the bruise...

I just stood there for a moment, looking at myself in the mirror as a bill of nausea started to rise in my throat filled with self-disgust.

In some strange way, I look so different right now than I did yesterday.

My eyes no longer shined, but looked empty and cold.

Smile looked completely fake and pitiful as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

As it started to sink in that a part of me died last night. She was killed by that man... and I was mourning the girl I used to be.

I gathered all of my strength and walked out of the bathroom and out of the room. Slowly, I made my way downstairs into the main part of the club where the breakfast was served. There were people around me, but in a way I did not see them... I couldn't.

I sat down at one of the empty tables and ordered myself breakfast, feeling like none of this was real. Part of me still hoped that all this is just a bad dream and I would wake up at any moment... but that did not happen. After a few moments, I noticed that everyone in the room had their eyes on me.

Some with pity in their eyes.

Others with hate.

But I felt nothing.

Just dark emptiness.

It took Oliver another hour and a half to get up and walk down the stairs to the breakfast area.

He walked to my table and leaned in to kiss me with his usual smile on his face. The moment he leaned into me, I flinched. It was an involuntary reaction. If he saw it, he did not mention it as he sat down and ordered for himself.

I sat there quietly, not sure what I should do right now, everything in me screamed to get away from him, but I sat there frozen.

People noticed that Oliver was there, so they rushed to congratulate him.

Well, I guess more to suck up to him.

The whole sight made me sick, but I had to endure it.

Once the last of them left, I saw my chance to leave, but before I could even take a step from the table, he caught me by the hand and pulled me back onto the chair. closer to him.

"Sit back down, before I make you regret it..."

Part of me wanted to laugh straight at his face, because there was not much he could do that he hadn't already done to me.

But I knew better.

Now that he has married me, my father's company was in his hands and so was my father's health. And even probably his life.

So defeated, I sat back down, forcing a fake smile on my face as more people approached our table.

Most of them ignored me and even if someone tried to talk to me, Oliver answered before I could even open my mouth.

"We will leave right after breakfast. My mother packed your bags, and they are already on the plane..."

I didn't answer.

Just sat there with a fake smile, staring at nothingness behind him. There was nothing that I wanted or could tell him... so I just sat there quiet as Oliver finished eating.

When he was finished, he dragged me into the car waiting for us in front of the building. I was thankful for the call he received the moment the car left the club and he stayed on the phone the whole way to the airport.