While I am currently writing these pieces for a fictional book, they are based on true events.
It is a way to document the many tears which have paved the unsuspecting paths of hell here on earth.
Please be prepared, as some of it may be difficult to read.
I hear the tires screech and, as the engine accelerates, I can feel the vibrations through the floor board. I begin to panic, realizing I can’t let them take me like this, but no sooner did I begin to put up a fight than I felt the swift kick to my head. Everything went black. Everything was quiet.
…Another man was taking his turn with me as lust and anger filled his eyes and greed took all it wanted. Pure evil relentlessly pounded into my very being, ravaging my soul.
…I lose track of time. Nightfall comes once again and rolls into another day while I am whipped, tortured, sodomized and raped repeatedly by all four men. The threats to end my life never stop and I slip in and out of consciousness. And then a random thought. Is this what it was like for you, Jesus? Then, I think nothing else and I feel nothing more.
…My eyes flutter again as a dark figure looms above me. There is a gurgling sound and I roll over. A liquid river of heat pours from my mouth and I realize it must be me making the noise, because I can’t breathe. I’m choking, I think as I drift off again.
“Jessie, you have my word that you’re going to be OK, so please try to find as much comfort in that as you can. They found you bloodied in a hotel suite more than two weeks ago…” He looks at me tenderly, “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but you are one very lucky young lady.” Another tear trickles down my cheek, but this time Big Mama gently wipes it away. “Like I was saying before though, your jaw has been completely shattered and must be wired shut for at least a month, so that is why you can’t talk right now. We nearly lost you to a drug overdose as well.” He pauses, studying my reaction “Shall I go on?”
John lands on top of me and our laughter slowly subsides. He props himself up on his arms and smiles down at me, staring intently. I am startled to feel his weight on top of me and feel butterflies in my stomach as he sweeps a piece of hair out of my eyes.
Why isn’t he getting up? I wonder. Then he shifts himself in such a way that I feel his manhood growing, straining toward my innocence. I tear me eyes away from his and the butterflies die off, spiraling into the pit that is now at the bottom of my stomach. No, not him too God, please… I silently beg.
“F**k you… Jess. F**K YOU!” he yells. One fist grabs a handful of hair while the other crudely lifts me up, catapulting me through the dining room window, as if I am merely a rag doll. I am engulfed by the crashing of glass, as it swallows me whole and spits me out onto the pavement below. I lay lifeless, aware of the sticky warmth that drips down the side of my face and spills from the gouges in my back. I look up at him as he leans out the window, assessing with pride the damage he’s done, and tears flood my eyes. He is a mad man possessed by evil, I think, like Satan himself spewed out from the depths of hell.
More to come…
“I’m going out for awhile, but I’ll be back with some people to handle this,” he glares at me, eyes narrow as a smirk forms across his lips. “To handle you. It’s time we finish this once and for all. You will learn how to be silent.” With that, my husband calmly walks out the door.
…“We believe your husband is trying to kill you Mrs. Stevens.” Even though I am not surprised, I feel my jaw tense as I glance between the sheriff and F.B.I. agent who are standing in my kitchen. “We would like to offer you and your daughter the witness protection program. It is the only way we can keep you both safe.”
I’ve only been married 10 months, I think with utter disgust…
Authors Note: Recollecting, this would not be the last time such an offer was made to me by the F.B.I. or the DA’s office.
More to come…