THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS RAPE!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!
Chapter Seven--Justin's Point of View
I had never known that it was possible to be in so much pain. The worst things that I had ever had to put up with were a migraine and a broken foot. And although they were intense, neither one of those pains compared to what I was feeling at the current time. Every part of my body was either throbbing, stinging, or burning. It hurt to move even a fraction of an inch. I couldn't draw in a really deep breath without my chest feeling as if there were a dozen knives being stabbed through it; even small breaths were painful to draw in. On top of all of that, I was practically starving and dying of thirst.
Aside from all of the physical pain, I was experiencing a lot of emotional hurt as well. It probably wasn't a secret to anyone that I had gone missing by that point, and images of my family, my friends, Sarah, and my fans were swirling around in my head. They were all scared; I could feel it. I wished more than anything that I could send them a sign to let them know that I was okay--or, at least, alive. Knowing that I couldn't do it was one of the most frustrating realizations ever.
I especially found myself thinking about Sarah. That day was supposed to have been my special day with her. It was our one-year anniversary, and I'd had big plans for it. The two of us were going to get on a private jet and fly to Nasvhille, Tennessee. That had always been her dream city. She had passed through the area once before, but had been forced to detour due to road constrctuion, so all she had gotten to see was the skyline. She had said that that was good enough for her; she had still been able to "sense the magic," but I wanted more for her.
After we spent a few hours in Music City, we were going to get back on the jet and progress to Alto, Texas, which was her hometown, so that she could see her family and friends that still lived in the area (it was going to be a surprise for all of them as well). After that, we were going to go to the mall in Grapevine, Texas, which is where we had first met. We were going to go ice-skating, because that's what we had been doing when we met. Well, I had been skating. She had been clinging to the rail, just barely shuffling along. My background in hockey had taught me a thing or two, but since she had never set foot on ice before, she was clueless. I helped her out, and by the time we were finished, she was skating like a pro. As it had done on the night that we met, dinner was going to follow at the Rainforest Cafe. Then, when we boarded the jet to go back to Atlanta, I was going to present her with the promise ring that I had bought behind her back a week earlier.
This isn't fair, I thought as my eyes filled up with tears. Today was supposed to have been completely amazing. I was going to make sure that it was one of the best days of her life. Now, though, it's probably the worst. I imagined her pacing back and forth, her fingers nervously toying with the royal blue dogtag (which was engraved with 'Let Go & Let God') that she always wore and her beautiful face streaked with tears. The mental picture pushed me over the edge, and I put my head in my hands and let loose, bawling like a baby.
At that moment, I heard the sound of the door being unlocked before it opened. "Aw, look at that." The disgusting voice that I had been dreading sounded from behind me in a tone of mock concern. "Little Baby Bieber can't take the heat. How sad."'
"Just let me out of here!" I screamed at him, jerking my head up and glaring at him through my tears. "Please! I want to go home! I want to see my family and my friends and my girlfriend! I want to be able to perform for my fans!" I paused for a moment, a thought coming to my mind. "I have money," I told him. "I have lots of money. Maybe we could come to some sort of agreement--"
"I don't want your money!" he bellowed. For some reason, he thought that my suggestion was worthy of one of his notorious slaps. I cried out as his hand collided with my sore jaw. "It's just like your apologies--completely useless. You're sitting there whining about how you want to see your family...well, guess what? I want to see my family, too! The only thing stopping me from being able to do that is you! Thanks to you, I have no family anymore!" he slapped me again, adding a powerful kick to the mix.
"How is what you're doing now any more useful than my apologies and my money?" I croaked, holding my side in pain. The bastard had kicked precisely the same spot that he had before, and I was having to fight really hard to continue carrying on the conversation with him through the pain. "Keeping me here won't bring your wife or your daughter back. Beating me up won't bring them back. Nothing that you're doing here is going to make any difference in the situation. It's only going to--" I was cut off by his knuckles meeting my jaw and couldn't stop myself from crying out at the burst of pain that shot through me.
"You know, wise guy?" he spat. "I've had just about enough of your attitude. I think it's time that you learned what I'm going through. And by that, I mean that it's time for you to learn what it feels like to experience loss."
His words immediately froze my heart with fear. "No...please...don't hurt my family or anybody close to me!" the thought of anything happening to any one of them made me feel sick to my stomach. I would absolutely die if anything were to happen to them.
"Now, why would I do that?" he shot back. "I don't have any problem with your family or your friends or your little girlfriend. They're not the ones who caused my wife and daughter to die, are they? No, they're not." He answered his own question and looked at me with a sinister expression. "You're going to be losing a certain something else that's dear to you."'
Before I could even really react, he seized me by the wrists and started dragging me across the floor. "Hey--what are you doing?" I yelled, trying to break free from his grasp. He didn't respond, just kept dragging me until he reached the bed. At that point, it became clear to me what his intentions were. "No. No! You can't do this!"
"Haven't we already gone over this?" he shouted, slapping me yet again. "You do not tell me what I can and can't do! You don't have any say in what happens! I am in charge of your life!" he hoisted me onto the bed roughly and climbed on top of me. I fought against him as he straddled my stomach and tore off my shirt. "No!" I yelled. "Please! Don't do this!"
"Shut up!" he grabbed hold of my shoulders and squeezed them hard, pressing down on the welts that the whip had created. "On second thought, why don't I shut your mouth for you?" to my horror, he lowered his lips to mine roughly. I nearly gagged as he forced his tongue into my mouth, but resisted the urge and channeled my strength into biting his as hard as I could.
"Bitch!" he yelled, jerking up and grabbing at his mouth. My actions rewarded me with a hard punch to my eye, and I couldn't help but yell from the pain. "Alright, you little shit--that's the last straw!" he hit me once more before lowering his hands to the button on my jeans. In a matter of seconds, he had managed to strip me of both the jeans and my boxers, leaving me completely exposed and feeling more and more frightened by the milisecond.
I started to cry then, unable to fully get my mind to believe that this was actually happening to me. "Please!" I begged, sobbing. "Don't do this! Please!" I prayed that maybe, he would have a split-second change of heart, but to no avail. Instead of getting off of me and letting me go, he just pressed down on my shoulders once more and forced me onto my stomach. I felt him moving behind me and craned my neck to see that he was quickly ridding himself of his own clothes. "Please!" I repeated desperately, still hoping that he would change his mind. "Don't--"
My begging came to a screeching halt as he roughly slammed into me. I screamed out at the top of my lungs as my body was attacked by the absolute worst pain that I have ever felt before in my whole entire life. I let out another scream as he pulled out slightly and then delved back in. The disgusting pattern continued, the pain seeming to grow even more unbearable with each thrust. He was grunting and moaning; it appeared that he was actually getting off on my screams of pain.
Finally, just when I had started to think that it was never going to end, he released his load inside of me before collapsing, his sweaty body meeting mine full-on. "You were amazing," he said to me in a sickly-sweet voice, placing a revolting wet kiss on the side of my head. He pulled out of me, and I hissed at the feeling. This earned me yet another hard slap. "Whiny little bitch," he muttered, getting to his feet. He put his clothes back on and stalked out of the room, locking the door behind him.
I laid there sobbing, still unable to believe that I had really just gone through that. Suddenly, I felt the sensation of vomit making its way up my throat. I hastily got off the bed and, not trusting my legs to work, crawled over to the toilet on the other side of the room as quickly as I could. After I had surrendered just about everything that I had ever eaten and drank in my whole entire life, I curled up into a quivering little ball on the floor and just cried. I cried for my family, my friends, Sarah, and my fans--who I knew were all missing me like crazy. I cried for the man's wife and daughter--who had died because of me. I cried for my innocence, which had so cruelly been ripped away from me. The tears kept on flowing until I finally managed to cry myself into a restless slumber.
