1. Nights like this...

The first bout of pain came when he penetrated my inner walls,going as deep as his small thing would allow. His hands gripping my shoulders tightly; be sure to leave an unwanted mark in the morning. He groaned, sounding pleased with himself, with the little he had managed to accomplished this night. Pumping away like if trying to reach an unprecedented world best, he grunts directly, continuously in my ears, penetrating the air, disturbing any comfort I tried to seek in my mind. Any solace that was worth finding at this moment. The thought to help myself crossed my mind, reaching down to find the natural release that came from one's creative touch. As my right hand reach down, my two fingers set to do what he could never do, he reached, grabbing my hands and holding it above my head tightly before he accomplished his ultimate goal, grunting so Ioud as he did so. With that, he fell on top of my body. All sweaty and sticky. His foul body odour perceived by my nose as the last of this night's torture.

Raising his bald head slightly after suffocating me for nearly a minute, grinning widely like the madman that he is. Absolute scorn could be seen in his yellowed teeth, mocking lines accompanying his grin. He finally went and did it. I grimaced as I pushed him with the much needed force off me, the bed dipping heavily from his weight, his breathing still coming out in pants and weasels. Even a dog who ran the length of the World wouldn't be breathing this hard. I feared he might breathe his last, but it will be so much better for me if that were to happen. It will erase a little of this night's memory because as I laid, my eyes focusing on the ceiling,I realized I didn't know a thing.

I didn't know if I could go through the next day. If I could fight the mental torture that will surely come. If this will be what finally breaks me, that's if I'm not already broken. Like a fine china that fell from the slimy hands of fate, breaking into different glassy pieces. The sad thing isn't the glass wear broken into different pieces but those slimy hands that felt it could shape and reshape as it saw fit, picking up those pieces. Fixing it up until it looks like a beautiful abnormality.

If I get through the next, what about the other and the next, the days never seems to end, doesn't end. But, I won't be in this creeps bed and debate my life, I won't be here for him to see the tears circling my eyes, it will just egg his person on.

Dragging the bedsheets so it wraps around my body, I stand up and reach for my clothes which were hanging on the chair by the corner of the room.

"Stay the night", he purred, propping himself up with those meaty arms of his.

He doesn't know? He doesn't know how hearing those croaked voice of his rumbles my stomach. How seeing him in any form bring the worst kind of bile up my throat. I don't bother with a reply. Silently, I wear my top and grabbed my handbag.

With my back facing him, I asked, "I've done my part...right?

"Yes you have. With your previous whining, one will think you don't enjoy..."

I do not wait for him to finish saying whatever that was coming out from his mouth. His words were another torture I couldn't bear to face this night. So, with shaking feet, wobbly knees, I left the room, banging the door hard on my way out; my only reprieve.

The receptionist held a firm stare to my face as my feet took me past the lobby, her stern wrinkled face didn't bother to hide those narrowed eyes. It followed me till I was outside the hotel lounge, outside to the pouring rain which was already drenching my clothes. Everything was plotting against me today; no rest. Holding my bag above my head, I race towards the bus terminal.

My cramped apartment never felt more comfortable than at this moment; this night. As my *** melted into the couch, I signed. After some minutes of hearing only my heart pounding an uneven beat against my chest, my body move to turn on the tv– not that I am watching anything in particular, but a little noise is necessary. Here was beginning to feel like a graveyard.

As for tiny apartments, mine is no different, to describe it is a hassle as there is not much, it's three rooms: the living room, the bedroom and the bathroom–which I really needed to use right now.

Walking across the living room, I open the bathroom and slide in. At this moment, the water will be at zero degrees but I could care less. I have to wash it all out. Try to wash out his disgusting smell, his trace, his mark. With the shower pouring out water, cold as presumed, I strip for a different purpose tonight. Going into the shower sink, the water wastes no time in punishing me, drenching me right till it was bone- chilling. I don't run, I welcome it. This pain more bearable that what I've faced, what I will overcome.

Grabbing a sponge and a shampoo, I began scrubbing. Scrubbing my hands; he touched me there, my arms, my waist. Until my body began to feel sore and red, I didn't stop. At this point I could differentiate between what was water and what was my tears. It just came rushing, needing none of my permission, I being too weak to refuse it. I turn my face away from the shower head as tears poured, my mouth tasting it's salty pleas, my face being washed by it. I couldn't believe it, I said I wouldn't cry, so why was it flowing freely?Why?

Using both hands, I grabbed my face shaking it to avoid my brain reminding me why the tears came. I don't want to go back there. To that hotel room, to that son of b*tch. I sobbed loudly. The water has become slate, I couldn't feel the chills anymore, the goosebumps has come for a different reason entirely. My brain didn't listen, it did as it wish, returning back to few minutes ago, bringing it to my eyes as my whole body shivered.

My jaw hung open as I froze. The bastard couldn't have? God no! I opened my eyes looking around, hands now around my mouth, trying now to remember.

"Oh no! Please no! I can't go from the frying pan to the fire".

I realized just now, he went raw.

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