97Chapter 17: One Last Song
How I escaped the perverted creep I do not know. It was all a blur. I had reached from behind and grabbed hold of something before knocking him out with it. I fled the apartment as quickly as I possibly could and ran. Ran on and on and on, just like when I found out Devante was The One. Just like before, I ended up at the lakeshore. Sitting on the cold soft sand on the deserted beach I stared out into the blue. The moonlight shone brightly on to the calm water. I hesitatingly walked near the water. I looked right at the pure clean water and saw the tainted me, I am no longer pure, instead I saw a desecrated me looking at me. I stared at it some more and another image appeared. The image of a pure clean boy with innocent brown eyes. The image of…..Devante.
I got up from the radiant heat. I had fallen asleep on the beach! I got up from the warm sand and walked to a nearby seaside café. I had no money- Stephen had taken everything of mine since our 'marriage'-I casually walked by and took a peek at their clock. 11:30! I should be at home making Stephen breakfast and giving him a foot massage right now! Quickly, I ran home.
"Dior! Where the hell have you been?!" Stephen raged at me as I crept in the front door.
"I lost track of time and your friend Trent tried to-" I started to explain.
"Trent told me everything! How you tried to get into bed with him so you could get away from me! I know! And you will learn the meaning of ownership right now!" He boomed.
I said nothing more. Suddenly, I had become a new person, it was as if I had changed overnight. I just stared at the ground.
"You dirty little drudger will obey all my commands!" He fired, holding my chin up with his fingers.
I didn't react, I remained expressionless. I did not feel anymore; no matter what he did to me, it had no more effect.
"Now go scrub the floor clean with your bare hands!" He ordered.
I did so, ignoring the peeling skin and bleeding scrapes. I scrubbed the living room, the bedrooms, the restroom, the kitchen, everywhere!
When I was done, I resided to my room.
"You're not done here, you savage! Come here now!" Stephen shouted.
I did. Only to find all his companions with him in the living room.
"Now my friends, you will see how much power I hold over her!" He announced to his mates.
"You retarded little twit! Come here at once!" Stephen yelled at me.
I went over.
" Now get in there." He pointed to a closet.
I went into the small little closet as he closed the door behind me.
Then I heard thuds as a dagger came through the door, stabbing me in the shoulder. I did not yell or scream. I just stayed put.
Another dozen came flying through the wooden door and continuous thuds were heard as the hilts hit the wood.
I could not move, I was cramped. The daggers went into me most of the time. I never shrieked. Not once.
"Let's go play another game guys!" I heard Stephen say.
I pushed the door open, ignoring the little cuts I got from doing so. It moved and I went out, only to collapse on the couch, my blood spilling everywhere. I reached for the first-aid-kit and carelessly wrapped up my wounds, I knew this was just the beginning.
Stephen had done a million cruel, heart-less things to me. Hanging me with my arms behind my back as they threw rocks at me, pinning me to the floor with pins to be stepped on, shaving half my head bald, putting numberless scars on my face and skinning my skin off with a knife. I had survived it all without a speck of fear. I did not say anything any more, I just did it. I never left the house; I didn't allow myself to do so. I was no longer human. I felt no pain, no anger, no avengement; nothing.
He hit me when he felt like it and whipped me with his rope, I did not react. I was no longer alive; I had in fact, died the day we married. I had no more hopes or dreams. No goal. Living was just a chore.
"Tonight we will have our festival! She shall spend an hour in bed with me first, then with Drake, then Trent, and lastly George."
I heard Stephen announce in a low voice to his mates. I immediately raced to my room. I felt for the first time in weeks; horror. Then came the others; hate, anger, and avengement. All my feelings came back to me. As I looked at myself in the shattered mirror, I saw someone else. A confident, strong-willed girl.
Marching down the hallway, stomping my feet, I got to the living room where Stephen and his mates are. I did not hesitate to go in. I walked all the way up to them, feeling more courageous than I've ever been.
"Get. Out. Of. My. House." I shouted, pointing my finger to the door.
My shouting had startled them all. I saw them jump five feet in the air and felt a smile slowly spread across my face. A feeling I hadn't had for ages.
"Dior, what are you doing here? Get back to your ro-" Stephen started.
"My room? Oh, you mean the doghouse! Well, I'm sorry, but I think you belong there more!" I stuck my finger to his chest.
He looked astounded, but recovered fast.
"Excuse me?" He asked with a stoned expression.
"Oh, did you miss what I said? Let me repeat it. Get to the doghouse, dog!" I repeated in an unhanded manner.
"Well well well, I think our little drudger has exploded at last." Stephen observed as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Guys, I'll see you later, I have to give some wild servant some discipline."
His friends reluctantly left.
As the door closed behind us, he attempted to tackle me. I dodged him, making him leap for nothing except the glass coffee table, he landed on the floor flat like a pancake and his leg looked broken.
"Why you-" He started.
"What? Smart pretty girl?" I taunted.
He started chasing me, stumbling here and there along the corridor. I felt myself grin as I led him to his room.
I hid behind the door and waited.
"That little bitch." I heard him mutter. Closer, closer, closer.
As I saw his shadow near, I slammed the door hard. It clipped his right arm and he screamed in vain.
"You can't hide, you imbecile!" He shrieked. Not being able to find me, he rested himself on his bed. The minute he got upon his bed, I shoved the filing cabinet in front of his bed and his dresser on the open side, cornering him on his bed.
"No, I can't hide, but I can just walk out taking my time." I retorted.
Yet before I could move, he had reached out and grabbed my arm.
"You can't get away now!" He yelled victoriously.
"Get lost, you scoundrel!" I shot back before I could stop myself, as I tried to free his grip. Those words make him furious.
"What did you call me?!" He asked, with a mix of fury and rage.
"S-c-o-u-n-d-r-e-l spells scoundrel, and I must admit, it fits you perfectly." I said casually even though I was still a bit afraid of him.
He responded to me by throwing me to the ground; my head hit the wall under the window and I felt it bleed.
"Well, Miss-I-Know-How-To-Spell-Perfectly, how do you spell ownership? 'Cause that's why I have over you." He questioned.
"I don't spell for losers." I retorted, my mouth working faster than my brain.
He threw a vase at the window behind me, making it shatter upon me and cut me everywhere.
"We'll see who the loser is." He scolded.
"We don't need to see, I already know, it's pretty obvious!" Again, I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
He reacted by throwing a pocked knife at me. It missed my face by half an inch.
"Well, Dior, come here dear." He regained his calm voice. His voice calm was deadlier than when it was angry.
"No! I don't go topeople who depend on women money." I yelled at him.
He threw another knife at me, it missed me on my other cheek. Now there were two knives on the wall; one on either side of my face.
"Don't think I'll actually obey you again! 'Cause I don't work for useless pathetic men!" I angrily shouted, sneering.
He threw another knife at me, it landed just above my head. Then it hit me, he was throwing his collection of Swiss army knives at me.
"Why you-" He started, but I didn't let him finish.
"Me what? Me more useful than you? I know, thank you very much!" I hissed, now full of glee.
He aimed another at me, it went right through my shoulder. He brought his arms up thinking he had succeeded.
"Seeing as you have such poor poor aim, I'll just take a nap." I pretended to yawn. This however, just made him explode.
"You will get it!" He screamed. He reached over his bedside and his hand returned with five knives in each hand.
He hurled them at me. I cleverly dodged most of them, but two landed on my leg. He was fuming now. He kept throwing things at me; vases, his radio, lamps, clocks, even his weights. As he tried to find more things to throw at me, I pulled one of those knives he had thrown earlier out from the wall; hoping he wouldn't notice.
Just as he ran out of things to throw at me, I hurled the knife at him. It tore through his flesh and dug into his heart. I had just killed him. I tried to run out of the room, but my leg was cut open from the knives earlier and couldn't exactly move fast.
Before he died, he flung one last knife at me. I felt it cut into my chest, and looked down to see blood rushing out of me.
I knew at that very moment that I was going to die. I was going to die with Stephen. At that instant, I heard the radio in the broken down room play. The first song was One Last Song, the version Devante and I sang, and when he sung, it sounded like the words were aimed directly at me. And in that split second, I knew that I still and always will love Devante. The mistake of ignoring him was something I could never ever make up to him or correct. So with the blood pouring out of me, I used it as ink and wrote on that cold marble floor, softly singing along with the song, before giving in and falling into my eternal sleep. Writing him one last song.