Shattered by Kia DuPree Read Free Book Online

off the curb and peel off down the street.
    I took a deep breath. I looked at the splintered wood on my closet door, surprised that he was strong enough to do that kind of damage. My nose started to throb, so I went to the freezer to get some ice. Since there wasn’t a lot, I grabbed the bag of peas, and then I laid on my bed. I wanted to call Meeka to tell her I made it home okay, but I left my phone in the car. My makeshift ice pack took the pain away a little, but I popped some Tylenol and took some Ambien so I could go to sleep. I laid there replaying the night in my head, wondering how long Ryan had been at the party. How much did he see? I drifted asleep.
    It wasn’t long before I was yanked out of my sleep by the weight of someone lying their heavy body on top of me. Strong, rough hands groped my breasts and my thighs. I struggled to fight through my grogginess, trying to push the person away. Nothing but darkness and the smell of liquor and cigarettes flooded the room. Sloppy kisses covered my face and my neck, then my breasts.
    “No,” I cried out.
    It was way too dark to see, but I felt the face—their eyes and nose was covered by what felt like stockings. I could feel my panties ripping off of my hips, then the violent thrust of two fingers being shoved inside of me.
    “Aiiiiiiiiii,” I screamed. But I felt strapped to the bed, even though it was the force of the person holding me down with one arm. He pressed his dick against my thigh. I tried to scratch his face as he rammed harder against me. “No! Get off me, please! Get off me!” I begged so loud, I knew my neighbor had to hear me. But he ain’t stop. I scratched the stockings until I felt them shredding, then suddenly he punched me in my jaw like a man. The pain was too much, but I caught a glimpse of Ryan’s face before I passed out.
    When I finally woke up, the sun was shining directly on me through slightly cracked blinds. I touched my throbbing lips, feeling the split center before I sat up. I was naked, the sheets splattered and smudged with dried blood. My nose was caked with more blood. My ripped clothes huddled like my fear in a pile on the floor. My arms felt swollen, and light-green bruises covered them. My inner thighs were sticky and tender. I softly patted them with my fingertips, screaming instantly at the horror of what he’d done. I screamed and cried until I couldn’t cry no more. Memories of us playing as kids flashed over and over in my head: Him shooting a water gun at me, us playing Red Light, Green Light. Birthdays, cookouts. Him on top of me. Him beating me until I was unconscious. The moans of pleasure that poured out his throat with every thrust. I wailed into my pillow.
    After laying there for what felt like hours, I found the strength to stand up. My thighs felt bloated, and I couldn’t stand to have them brushing against one another. I took baby steps to get to the bathroom, gripping walls for support. My body too weak and sore to move faster, but I had to get it off. I had to get it off now. I ran the bathwater and cried on the toilet until the tub was full of water. I looked in the medicine cabinet and under the sink for something strong enough to erase his touch. I cried when I couldn’t find what I needed, and then finally, I half crawled to the kitchen.
    Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pulled everything from the shelves and the cabinets, letting them fall wherever. I needed to get it off. I had to wipe off all the sickening stickiness he left behind. His touch. His smell. His taste. The memory of everything. I wanted it gone! I grabbed the vinegar and limped back to the bathroom. I emptied the whole bottle in the tub, the pungent odor much sweeter than Ryan’s vile stench. My body shivered thinking about what had happened. I scratched at my arms and my legs until every inch was covered with the mixed water. The stings of the vinegar seeping into my scratches hurt like hell, but I had to scrub it everywhere.