Abigail

She is everyone, and no one. She doesn't even have a name, because every day she is in a new life. She doesn't know who she is...or was. All she knows is the pain of these other girls, these living girls, the suffering girls.

She wants to know who she really is...but what will it take to find out?

WARNING: This Movella contains rape, bullying, suicide, abuse, self-harm, and other sensitive elements.

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6. Emilie

Emilie Shay. She’s sick today. Just a stomach bug, I think, but miserable all the same.

If only that was the problem, but of course it isn’t.

After realizing that my host is throwing up everywhere, I also notice that “everywhere” happens to be a room that looks very much like a prison cell.

    A metal door across the room swings open with a loud BANG!  A man stands in the doorway, and Emilie’s body immediately shrinks away in fear.

    “Ah, hello, Emilie, dear. Morning sickness, I see. That’s good.”

    Morning sickness? Oh, no.

    “My baby will be so beautiful. Just like you.” He strides forward and lightly strokes my face.

    No, no. Emilie...is a rape victim. Kidnapped, raped, and impregnated. I’m going to be sick again.

    I turn and vomit once more, and the man, Bradley, laughs. “That’s it, clean out your stomach, dear. We don’t want that little baby to get any bad food, now, do we?” He kneels in front of me, caressing my face once more. “Such a beautiful face...it’s too bad you’ll be dead in nine months. After all, I don’t need you anymore once that baby’s born, do I? Except maybe as a cleaning lady.” He laughs, stands, and walks to the door. “Breakfast in an hour, dear. Not that you can keep track of time. Or keep your food down.” He laughs again as the door slams shut behind him.

 

    This is just not a good week for me.

    But I guess it never is.

 

    Pretty bird!”

    “Yes, honey, that’s a hummingbird. Beautiful, isn’t he?”

    ”I wanna catch it!”

    “Ha! I don’t think anyone can catch a hummingbird, hon. But maybe if you put your hand out, he’ll fly to you!”

    “Yay! But I gotta be quiet, right?”

    “That’s right, honey.”

    “Shh...oh!”

    “Oh, would you look at that...I think he likes you, Abby!”

    “Emilie…”

    “Emilie!”

    I sit up, gasping. Did I just...dream? I never dream…

    “Emilie, dear, you were so deep asleep I thought you might’ve turned into a real Sleeping Beauty!” Brandon laughs and sets a tray of food by my feet. “Not that I would mind kissing you awake. And maybe other things…” He swoops in, pressing his lips hard against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut. I feel his fingers dance across my body, but the steps are as hard as they are graceful, an odd combination that would be pleasurable between two lovers. Here, though, it’s terrifying. My breasts start to feel like overused stress balls after several minutes of squeezing and groping. Fear, anger, and hate swirl through me, and tears burst from my eyes as his hands travel low.

    “I hear it’s healthy to further inseminate a pregnant woman. Shall we try it?” His voice is low and raspy in my ear. I can feel him pressed against my leg, and shudder. I can imagine his smirk. His heavy warmth suddenly disappears. I open my eyes after a few second and find him almost half-naked in front of me. A sob climbs up my throat and out of my mouth, and he crouches over me again. “Shhh...I’ll make you feel better, my little Sleeping Beauty. Don’t you worry.”

 

    I let my mind disappear after that. It’s a trick that Emilie developed, so that these moments wouldn’t be so bad. She ignores the feeling of him, she ignores the sounds he makes. She becomes lifeless, a doll.

    But sometimes he won’t accept that.

    “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” he growls, biting my neck. I whimper, and hear him laugh. “Feel me, Emilie. You’re mine. And you’ll never escape. So you may as well enj-”

 

    BANG!

    

    My eyes fly open, and Brandon tumbles off of me.

    “DON’T MOVE!” I can just barely see the officer standing in the doorway, gun held straight and strong. Brandon, trembling in full naked fear, holds up his hands silently, face reddening.

 

    My tears are happy now.

 

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