Look at him,

Look at me.

That boy is bad,

And honestly,

He's a wolf,

In disguise,

But I can't stop staring in,

Those evil eyes…

Elizabeth spun around the dance floor, sweat running down her back, her limbs aching from near exhaustion. She had been pushing herself for hours, twirling, twisting, falling and rising to the same simple song. She wouldn't let herself stop, though. Not until she managed to dance away from the memories. The demons that only recently started haunting her all over again.

I asked my girlfriend,

If she'd seen you around before.

She mumbled something,

While we got down on the floor, baby.

"We might've fucked,

Not really sure,

Don't quite recall.

But something tells me that I've seen him,

Yeah, that boy is a monster…"

Her foot caught a loose floorboard and she fell, crying out more in surprise than pain when she tumbled to the floor. Her body shivered, trembling from the lack of resting her muscles. She cried, silent tears shaking her small body. The memories were sneaking up on her, familiar like an old friend, yet dreaded, like a dose of medicine. Elizabeth stood, tears still streaming down her face. She spun quickly and jumped back into her violent routine, throwing her body around the floor like she was trying to punish herself.

Or purge his memory from her mind.

"Let me go!" she cried in her mind, gasping in pain as he forced her down on her hands and knees.

"Beg pretty for me." He murmured in response, jerking her sweat pants down to her knees, baring her from the waist down. She held her breath, half in anticipation and half in dread.

"Wet for me, Lizzie?" he mocked her, laughing as he pulled her hair, bringing her off her hands but leaving her on her knees.

"Go fuck yourself." She spat back, hissing in pain as he tugged her hair. He shoved her back down with a laugh, nearly slamming her head into the bathtub. Elizabeth righted herself and sighed, mentally begging someone to come into the bathroom. To come save her. But no one was around. And if they were they weren't brave enough to cross him. Or stupid enough to stand up for her.

"Feisty little minx." He told her, kneeling down behind her. She realized with despair that his pants were gone. This couldn't be happening! She struggled to crawl away from him, whimpering in pain when he grasped her hips in a bruising grip.

"Ready?" he asked her with a laugh. She didn't have time to brace herself before he was inside her, tearing her apart from the inside out. She screamed, unable to contain her anguish. He laughed again, a throaty, malicious sound that made her skin crawl. She tried to stop the hot tears from burning down her face as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Victim." He told her. "You'll always be nothing but a victim. Another number in a statistic. But you knew that before you met me, didn't you?"

"Just words." She told him. Or was she trying to convince herself? "They're nothing but words; they mean nothing." His evil laugh as he began thrusting in earnest would ring in her ears for years.

He had taken what he wanted from her six times before leaving her, broken, on the floor of the bathroom. His words still stuck with her after all this time, in her nightmares. Victim. The song started over again, and she began her dance again, this time more desperate, as though she had something to prove.

I wanna just dance,

But he took me home instead.

Uh-oh, there was a monster in my bed.

We French kissed on a subway train.

He tore my clothes right off.

He ate my heart and then he ate my brain.

That boy is a monster…

"Elizabeth?" a soft voice called to her, shattering her out of her dark illusions. She spun quickly to the sound. Justin, her ever loving husband, watching her quietly, concern etched into his features. She blushed, embarrassed, like she had done something wrong; he took another step in her direction.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She put her hand to her cheek and realized it was still wet with fresh tears. She wiped them away absent mindedly and nodded her head.

"Yes, baby." She said quietly. As he arched his eyebrow in disbelief, she shook her head. "No…"

He crossed the room in three quick strides to scoop her up in his arms. She sagged against him, mentally and physically exhausted. He took her weight easily, nuzzling her neck affectionately, comfortingly. She began crying again, thankful for once she didn't have to face her broken past alone. He stroked her hair.

"Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart." He whispered in her ear.

"I…I'm not a victim…" she whispered back, knowing how stupid she sounded. He nodded his head in agreement.

"Of course not. Who told you that you were?" he asked gently. With a sniffle, she replayed the whole memory for him, not sparing him any of the details.

He licked his lips,

Said to me,

"Girl, you look good,

Enough to eat."

Put his arms,

Around me.

Said, "Boy, now get your paws,

Right off of me!"

That boy is a monster…

Elizabeth was trembling from more than exhaustion when she was done. For years she heard his voice in her head, in her ear, always mocking her softly. She never told Justin about his voice in her head. It shamed her, made her feel weak and helpless. And stupid…something she hated feeling. Justin surprised her though, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"Why didn't you tell me, baby?" he asked her. She sniffled softly.

"I didn't know what you'd say or what you'd think?"

"Do you not trust me?" he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Of course I trust you." She said without hesitation. "It's me I don't trust. The memory…it's shameful to me…"

"Elizabeth," he whispered. Elizabeth lifted her head to look him in the eye. His blue eyes met her gray ones, concern and love pouring from them like rain. "Don't hide things like this from me, baby…" Whether to reassure her or comfort her, or both, Justin didn't know, but at that moment he took her in his arms and kissed her, cupping her face gently in his hands. She kissed him back, losing herself in the passion that sparked immediately between the two of them. With a low growl, Justin pulled her flush against him, running his hands over any part of her body he could reach. She did the same, reveling in the way he felt under her hands. Wildly, they removed each other's clothing so Justin could lay her down gently on the hard wood floor of the dance studio he had built just for her. Elizabeth shivered, the cold of the floor contrasting drastically with the heat coming from her body. They made love there on the floor, coming to earth shattering release at the same time. Lying there, coming back to herself, Elizabeth thought briefly of the memories that were plaguing her. She smiled and nuzzled into her husband's warm embrace.

That man was a monster, she thought to herself, but no way in hell will he make me his victim any longer…