Stolen Innocence

A Story by Missy

I awoke to him lying beside me. His arm stretched across my waist. My lower body ached with a fury. I felt different. I felt empty.

My name is Emilia and this is the story of how I died.

I was only twelve when his car approached as I walked the usual path down the street. The sun was shining bright in my face. I didn't know his car followed me as I skipped down the sidewalk with my backpack on and my brand new clothes. Mom had bought me a brand new outfit. I was so happy to be wearing the pink dress and sandals she bought. I wanted to show this boy in class. His name is Ricky, and I think he's the best looking boy in school.
"Hey," a voice calls to me.
I turned to find a man there who I didn't notice before. He seemed about the same age as my dad. He had dark brown hair with a mustache and a goatee. He had a big grey vehicle that had some rust. Moms' car had rust on the bottom of it.
"Can you help me? I'm looking for my daughter." He had a photograph in his hand, I could tell.
"I haven't seen anyone." I reply and continue to walk my way.
His car follows me. "Could you look at her picture, please?"
Mom had told me about men and to not get in any cars. He didn't seem like the bad men mom spoke about. He seemed desperate to find his daughter. I approached the car slowly and with caution. When I got close enough his door flew open. I froze in my spot, but I was still very close to the car.
"Did you see her?" He flashes a picture in my direction.
I glance at the photo. I see a brunette child. I don't recognize her at all. Then something covers my mouth and I'm forced backward. I hear a door opening as I struggle against the cloth pressing on my nose and mouth. I begin to panic and cry as I'm pushed into the backseat of his vehicle. Then I feel everything fading away.

I awake with my hands tied around my back and tape over my mouth. My clothes have disappeared along with my backpack and shoes. I am nude on a dirty floor with a spiderweb in the corner. I panic and try to move. I'm stuck, my hands are not tied they're chained to a metal pole behind me. I hear footsteps approaching and my heart leaps in my chest. I begin to cry. What is happening to me?
The man who grabbed me approached wearing only a towel around his waist. "You're finally awake, we can get started."
I cried harder. I was only twelve, but I knew what he meant. I shook my head pleading with my eyes for him not to do what he had planned.
He smiled in my direction. I saw him reach on a wood shelf beside me, too high for me to reach. He placed a butcher knife to my lips. "I'm going to take the tape off, promise me you won't scream." I was terrified he would stab me. My blurry eyes promised him. He removed the tape.
"Please please please, let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
His tongue forced his way inside of my mouth. His hand went around my throat. "It's okay," he kissed my cheek. "It's okay. I'm going to take off the cuffs okay, sweetie." And he unchained me from the wall.
He forced me down to lay down. Then his heavy body got on top of mine. I cried even more. "Please," I tried to say, but he just kissed me again. He spread my legs with his arms. I saw him remove his towel. I looked at the ceiling. I couldn't look at what he was going to do to me.
"No, I need you to look at me. Keep your eyes on me," he grabbed the knife and pressed it to my chest. "Or I will kill you, understand?"
I nodded and he moved the knife away from me off to side and set it down. I kept my eyes on his. He penetrated me sending the most horrific pain throughout my body. He pushed harder into me gripping my waist as he did. I cried louder only to be muffled by his intrusive tongue in my throat. I pushed against his hips trying to soften his thrusting into my body. My struggles turned him on more. I stared into his eyes in the most pain I've ever felt while he seemed as happy as he could be.
Finally, he made some annoying sound and pressed all his weight onto my body. I could barely breathe. He raised up and flipped me over onto my stomach. He pushed my hips up and made it so I was on my knees. I felt him press against my other hole. I tried to run from him then.
"Not there, no, no," I screamed out loud.
He grabbed a hold to my brown hair and yanked it back towards him. "I will f*****g slit your throat if you don't shut the f**k up."
"Then do it," I screamed back. I didn't want him to put it there.
I felt a hard blow to the back of my head. Within seconds, he began pushing into me there. I felt more pain than before. I cried loud as I struggled to get away from his grasp. He was too strong it was of no use. Suddenly everything just went black again.

I awoke to him lying beside me. His arm stretched across my waist. My lower body ached with a fury. I felt different. I felt empty. I was just not in it. I don't know what possessed me to do what I did. I placed my body onto his. His eyes opened and he smiled.
"You want some more of daddy," he grinned placing me directly over his manhood. "I gotta get him ready for ya." He moved his hands.
I pushed them away up toward my waist. I leaned down and placed my mouth on his. Then I don't know what happened exactly. I don't remember grabbing the knife. All I know is the knife is in my hand and dripping blood from his chest. He's in shock and goes to push me away. It's too late the knife is already aiming for his neck. I plunge it deep within him. I see the blood erupt from the wound like a volcano.
He's stronger he pushes me away. I'm too rabid. He staggers. I chase him on my knees slashing at the back of his legs. He falls to his face. I plunge the knife into his back over and over and over and over. We're both covered in blood and my hand has been slashed multiple time. I manage to half walk half crawl to the street and told a passing car my story.
I was rescued and safe, but I was different.

"I didn't do anything to you, b***h." A man with brown eyes and a mustache yelled towards me. I'd cuffed his hands to a metal pole.
I was throwing sharp darts at his chest. I got bored and took out a plastic bag. I rose and stood behind him placing the bag over his head.
"No, please. I have a wife and kids."
I tightened the bag and I held as he struggled. I held on until he stopped breathing. Then I uncuffed him and rolled his body in the plastic covering the floor. I dragged him behind the building I owned to a vacant spot in the dirt I dug for him.
He was my tenth kill.
I sometimes wonder what I would've done with my life had I not died when I was twelve. Mom always said I had the voice of angels maybe I could've been a singer. I was really good at math. I could've been a teacher. But I had died that day and I knew it. I knew I had changed that nothing would ever be the same. I felt better when I took the lives of men who looked like him. I get to kill him over and over and over and over again.

My name is Emilia, I'm twenty one, this is the story of how I died.