---- A loud beeping wakes me from my slumber. | had the worst nightmare, but it was already starting to fade to the back of my mind. Glancing around, | get a sense of déja vu. | glare at the machine, which causes my head to pound even more. | swear, | have seen that before. Even sitting up hurts, let alone future attempts to walk or run. And the strangest thing is that I'm sore - like the morning after that awful night, but this time, it's worse. | feel like something's been taken away from me, yet | can't figure out what it is. As | try to move my body, a stabbing pain between my legs stops me. "What the hell?" | whisper, clutching the blanket. My heart races, my mind spins, and sweat breaks out on my skin as | take deeper breaths. I'll never know if | don't look, but I'm terrified of what | might find out. What if someone took advantage of me while | was unconscious? No, father's people may be ---- cruel, but no one would stoop so low. Or would they? Didn't he mention lies about rape? What if he sent someone there to create a believable story? What if he let that rogue touch me when | lost consciousness? | wouldn't be surprised if he did, given the awful treatment this man provides me with every day, but could he really? Was all of this show created by him just to ensure a believable story? To make me reek of rogue? If that's so - why don't | reek of one? Did someone give me a bath? God, my head is spinning with all those questions running through my mind. Lately, my life revolves around questions, unexplainable events, vile doings, and even more questions. Cold shivers run down my spine, a lump forms in my throat, and | feel tears welling up in my eyes, clouding my vision. My heartbeat could be off rhythm, but | can't say it surprises me - anyone could have the same reaction given the same circumstances. ---- No matter how often | tell myself that something like that wouldn't happen, | know my father, and he's capable of things far worse than that. He didn't believe paying someone to rape me was an evil deed, so this would be just a splinter in the coffin of the agony he has created. And this time, he probably didn't have to waste money or resources to get what he wanted. The rogue became obsessed with me. He gets what he wants, | suffer, and my father has killed two birds using only one bullet - he has a believable story and a bad guy to blame. All that and some proof. Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, | slowly move the covers away from my legs. Enough overthinking, it's time for action. | don't dare to look down just yet. "Come on, just do it; get over with it!" | whisper- hiss the words to encourage myself. | can do this. | should be able to do this. | have ---- to doit. But if that's the case, why do | find it so difficult to go along with the simple action? Just one glance, and I'll be freed from the fear of the unknown. Finally, | let out a shaky breath and let my gaze wander to my legs. First, | stare at my ankles, which don't have bruises, so | almost let my mind feed me stupid excuses and build up hope that nothing has happened. Then, my gaze wanders to my knees. Once again: nothing. No signs of violence, no cuts or bruises, just my skin. | can't stop my eyes from wandering up my legs. As much as | need more time to prepare myself, curiosity is killing me, so | give in. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!