 Donaldson
is on top of me, holding my arms at my side. Are you awake? I
want you awake. It’s no fun otherwise.
I hear the voice from inside my head. I think
it’s a trick, that I’m dreaming or still unconscious.
But the voice comes again.
Come on, Anna. I know you can hear me. We've
had an unintentional exchange of bodily fluids. My bad. But you
won't have to endure it long. Open your eyes. Look at me.
I don’t want to. I try to keep them closed,
actually squeeze them tight with all my strength, but my eyes
open anyway. I turn my head to avoid looking at Donaldson, but
steel fingers take my chin and force my face upward.
That’s a good girl. No, don’t try
to fight. You can’t fight me. Just look into my eyes. Do
you like what you see?
Yellow eyes, slit like a cat’s, stare down.
And something else. A snarling mouth with tiny,
pointed teeth.
I start to scream, struggle again to break free.
Donaldson just laughs. His hands are everywhere—on
my breasts, between my legs, tearing open the collar of my blouse,
exposing my neck.
I do the only thing I can. I bite him, again
and again, feel the skin on his cheek and neck tear, taste the
copper of his blood in my mouth.
It doesn’t seem to faze him. He bunches
up my skirt, opens his pants and pushes against me. His mouth
is hot on my neck, his teeth pinch and tear and finally break
through.
Everything changes.
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