"Aim higher in case you fall short. "

― Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire

(TRIGGER WARNING)

Rose's POV:

"Sweet Rose..... Do you know what am I going to do?" His distorted voice croaked, making my skin crawl in disgust.

"N-No...." I whispered, flinching away from his perverted touch.

"Oh don't go!" He mocked, nearing me. His ugly face was lit up with a merciless smirk, making a bile rise up my throat, "You will feel pleasure! I promise!"

My six year old self didn't know what to do, I only perlustrated him with fear. I was backing away from him, my foster father, but he just kept approaching me with his painfully slow stance.

"Rose...." He mocked as he shook his head in disapproval, "You should know better by now, shouldn't you? You should know better than to disobey my orders."

NO!

Suddenly, it felt like I was being submerged into a water body.

I can't breathe!

He pounced on me, like an animal in heat, craving for someone, something, anything to fill his filthy rotten desires. My body went cold as I screamed with all the might a six year old could muster up, but I was no match for his burly frame.

And then I felt my clothes being ripped out, baring my bruised body that my foster mother presented me.

I screamed, cried. Nothing helped. At one point, he just clamped one of his desiccated hand on my mouth, cutting of my screams.

And then the pain. The shocking, rippling, earth shattering pain.

"It will be over sweet Rose.... Pleasure after pain..."

The water was pulling my body in, the ebb and the tide of it startling my form, rocking it forcibly like a boat stuck in the middle of a hurricane. I struggled to swim, to survive, but the wave knocked me over and over, until it had succeeded pushing me in into the water body.

I tried to kick and swim..... To reach the shore...but.....

Then everything became white. Plain white. No color, nothing. Just a blank mirage of a canvas.

And I?

I existed no longer. My soul had just been crushed and defiled.

I was a defiled woman without virtue.

Unworthy of love.

Unworthy of the love mama Cassedy showered me with, unworthy of the love my foster brother showed me.

I was a broken shell of a woman. A shadow, a whisper of a ghost.

I lived in my nightmares, I breathed in them, they were a part of me like my skin and blood.

And then I was being choked.

My lungs burned as I struggled for oxygen.

Breathe.....

I woke up with an obnoxiously loud scream that echoed into the labyrinth of the disoriented chamber, letting itself linger on the air and then disappearing into it, losing it's existence.

Silence.

Deafening, heartbreaking silence.

The one that was a stinging reminder of the victimization that was ascribed upon me, the one that reminded me how much of a lonely, pathetic woman I really was.

A sob escaped me, proving my statement. I was weak.

Tears descended, making my vision blurry. It was not like I could see much anyway, the stinking, cold chamber was fearfully dark.

Another sob ripped through me, echoing on the walls of the abnormally small room. The sound accompanied my silence, both blending together like a secret hum of leafy murmurs at a winter night.

And with that, I broke into a full blown wail.

Clamping a hand tightly down on my mouth to prevent myself from screaming out loud, I cried silently.

Today, I almost lost my virtue.

Again.

Because of Marienne.

Suddenly, I felt filthy.

My mind wandered back to the fateful evening.

Hands.... there were eight hands touching me.....feeling me..... eight filthy hands.

I cried harder as the imprint of their touches burned me. I felt their lewd touches lingering on my skin, making my flesh ripple as a creeping sensation slowly rose.

The crawling sensation was becoming more prominent, to the point where I couldn't help but rub them.

Everywhere.

I felt their hands everywhere.

They were touching me with perversion, like animals without any sort of humanity.

I felt degraded.

I felt used, corrupted.

I felt hopeless.

I scratched harder and harder, my nails digging into my derm.

I thought I drew blood but then again, the bodily pain didn't matter as long as didn't feel those disgusting fingers touching me everywhere.

I sobbed as I kept on rubbing my wounded and newly torn flesh. The chasms my nails created, seemed to burn like hell fire.

I brought my hands up and....

Blood!

I gasped as I examined my arm.

So much blood!

I cried harder and harder until my tears mingled with my blood. I cried until there were no more tears left to cry.

I cried until my dark soul became empty.

Laying there on the freezing floor, I stared up at the ceiling.

Nightmare I had a nightmare crafted from my memories.

It was, as if, it had been designed to enhance the depth of the agony I was already suffering. My brain had suddenly opened the dame of memories. They hit me with such force that it knocked me over, stole my remaining breath and made me hit the depth of it's ocean, choking me and tying down my limbs until I couldn't swim anymore.

Until I couldn't fight anymore.

I was reminded of that night.

The night I was.....

I closed my eyes at the painful memories.

When I was adopted from the foster home, I had dreamt of a good life. I never wanted any dolls or pretty pink dresses, no.

I only wanted good parents who would love me.

Love?

"You are not worthy of anything!" The dark haired kid screamed at me, snatching her doll away from my hands.

No....

Her green eyes narrowed at me as she let on her defensive stance. She had so much fire inside her.

No..... stop...

"You are nothing Rose!" My foster sister yelled.

No! Please stop! I don't-

"You are a loser!"

I writhed on the cold, hard floor, begging to my mind to stop. I couldn't take it anymore.

I let out an agonized holler as I tried to stop those memories from resurfacing.

Memories.....

They hurt me more than anything.

I felt sick.

Didn't I deserve to live?

"You are worth more than the sun, moon and the stars beyond...." Mama Cassedy.

Suddenly, as if splashed cold water on, I flinched. And then I sat up straight.

What was Mama doing now?

Was she grieving?

"She isn't..." something whispered in my ear.

But the bigger part of me knew that she was waiting for me. My insecurities and humiliation weren't enough to defeat the love and respect I harbor and nurture in my heart for her.

She is the most precious thing to me.

And then, like a train, my conscious thoughts hit me, smacking me on the head.

I had to escape.

There was no other way.

My legs felt like jellies. Like they were placed on a race track. With trembling hands, I tried to grasp the bed and use it as a support as I stood up.

The fallen shall rise.

The mantra kept repeating itself over and over my head again.

A sharp pain shot through them as I tried to straighten them.

I let out a howl as they gave out. The bed wasn't enough.

I fell on my front as my face was smashed in the cold floor. The pain was almost unbearable, but I had to try.

Shaking my head at my weakness, I tried to put at least some weight on them.

The fallen falls, but rise again.....

No luck.

I couldn't make my form stand on my legs.

Getting in a crawling position, I slowly crawled toward the door. My eyes searched for a while...

Ah!

Finding a gap a bit bigger than a hairbreadth, I put my good eye on it.

What I saw, left me shocked to the core.

Marienne was sitting at the opposite side of the door, smoking a cigar. He looked callous to everything and anything as his eyes looked up at the heaven.

He was here, but he wasn't.

I could only see his posture, but couldn't see his face.

And the pain, rage, disgust I was feeling, hit me with it's new found power.

I lost all my senses seeing him there.

"LET ME GO!" I yelled as I banged the door hard with my bruised hands. At this point they were numb, I couldn't even feel anything.

Hearing no responses from the other side, I screamed again as the tears I thought had dried up began to fall, "LET ME GO YOU MONSTER! I KNOW YOU ARE THERE!"

I pounded on the door hard, the loud sound echoed throughout the chamber. I was pretty sure the whole mansion could hear it.

"YOU SICK FUCK!" I screamed as gasps of sobs escaped me, "YOU ARE AN ANIMAL! LET ME OUT! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

The words disgorged themselves as I cried.

It was my pent up vehemence and fury.

I heard shuffling of the keys as my heart stilled. I looked out of the hole only to find him standing there with his hand outstretched, holding the keys.

He was going to let me go?

Blood pounded in my ears as I held my breath in anticipation. My heart rate picked up.

What is he going to do?

He looked like he was battling with himself. He held the keys abnormally tight, so much so, his fingers had become white as sheets. One vein in his neck popped out. I couldn't see his face.

"Open it." The caress of a whisper was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

His hands were shaking.

He brought the keys closer and then popped them in the keyhole.

I was going to be-

Suddenly, he retracted them. His hands weren't shaking anymore, his vein wasn't popping out anymore. He seemed his usual self as he shoved the keys back in his pocket.

I was shocked and furious.

"NO! NO! OPEN IT!" I wailed as I banged the wooden door with all my might.

He just turned on his heels and then strode in the hall way, letting himself out of my sight.

I sobbed.

He was so close to let me free.

So close... yet so far....

I rested my forehead on the cold wood as I closed my eyes taking in the events.

I was humiliated, violated, beaten, unfed and mistreated. For no reason.

My mama was home, probably worried sick for me.

Tears fell freely I banged my fist on the door.

WHY?

Why is it always me?

And then I banged on the door again.

Why does pain always choose me?

Why can't I be happy?

The disgust I was feeling at Marienne was unfathomable. I had had enough of it.

My fists clenched with determination as an adrenaline rush crashed over my form, bathing me in the craving of freedom.

I wanted out.

I wouldn't let myself get oppressed anymore.

The euphoric drive I was feeling for liberty, it was unexplainable. I was pained, yes, I was hurt, yes, I was weak, yes.

I was used and abused.

But still, I would try to escape.

For my mama.

She was old and needed me. The only person who needed me.

I banged my bloodied knuckles on the door again. This time, from the taste of freedom

I smirked through the blood and tears.

I was pained, I knew pain. Pain embraced me, drowned me in it, bathed me in it's vitiated beauty. I was used to it.

I want to be strong. I don't want to be that pathetic little girl anymore.

And an escape plan would be the first step.

I know I was haunted by my nightmares, shackled by Marienne and all the ugly stuffs he did to me, but it's either kill or to be killed.

I was a coward, a broken coward, but it's do or die.

I didn't know if I would be able to escape, but I would try.

I closed my eyes as mama Cassedy's face lit up like a thousand suns coruscated in front of my lids.

That's when I knew... I had to try.

I had lost my dignity, my soul and my shelter. I had nothing to lose anyway, except my life.

I bear scars, the pain that comes from it, the haunting nightmares and flashbacks it gives.

I was already shattered, lost.

Banging my fists that was awash with blood, I smiled through the tears.

The fallen shall rise, though stabbed and bled...

I had to put my luck to the final test. Either I win or lose.

Thou shall not underestimate the agony bore by the fallen....

I was going to do it for mama Cassedy. I wanted to be strong, at least try.

Please do show some love, otherwise people won't appreciate this story :)

Follow me on Instagram for memes and aesthetics: @ssybahz