THE HAND UNDERNEATH

WARNING

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME DESCRIPTION OF ABUSE AND A LITTLE BIT OF VIOLENCE PLEASE SKIP IT IF YOU CANT HANDLE IT

NIRELLE

By the time my mom is done with the makeup, I am barely able to recognise myself. I can not deny it; she has done a good job. I have never looked this good, and certainly not in the ten years I have lived here. I close my eyes and I remember the day my mom held my hand and led me into the Thamore mansion. She had told me that this was going to give us better lives, and I was so excited. I had never known my father and had always longed for a father figure in my life so my mates at school would stop making fun of me. I wanted to be loved by a father, but I got a nightmare instead.

From the first night there, I felt Enoch's hand in inappropriate places, and I tried to overlook it. He was the father I needed, and so everything was good in my eyes. We were a perfect family with Cory as my elder brother; however, everything changed when, on my sixteenth birthday, he came into my room and placed his hand right on my vagina. I shrieked at his hands, and he told me not to worry, that this would help me become an adult. It was not right; I knew it, so I told my mom, and instead of supporting me, I got locked in the basement for the first time ever.

I remember banging on the door and screaming until my wrist ached. I remember crying so much that my throat burned, but all of that went away when I slept that night. However, the feeling of his hands underneath my panties jolted me back awake that night. I could not sleep.

The next day, Yvette let me out, and I was free again, but Enoch was not done; he was back again, this time tearing off my clothes with one hand and the other hand closing my mouth forcefully as he thrust himself into me like an animal. He left me alone in the darkness of my room with tears clinging to my face. He came again the next night and the next night, and for a week straight, he continued raping me and no matter how much I told my mom, all she did was look the other way.

Afterwards he would come into my room at least twice a week and rape me; sometimes I would lie lifeless on the bed because there was no salvation for me. If I managed to escape, I knew there was nowhere else to go. Yvette might even bring me into the room for him to have his way; I did not know what else to do so one day I took hold of his cock with my teeth and bit as hard as I could imagine. His pounding on my back did not stop me. I was determined to create enough damage to him, and I only let go when I could not hold onto it again.

"No daughter of mine would be allowed to do business," he announced the next morning at the breakfast table. I looked at him; it was a wonder that he was still alive and well after the damage I caused yesterday. I wished I had held on a little longer; I wished I had found a way to end him so I could be free from the nightmare, but there he was, ready to put me in more chains than I already had. "Nirelle, you would support your brother and make sure he grows to be successful."

There were no questions to be asked; Yvette began grooming me to be the perfect wife to any man I should be married to. The thought of it alone makes my skin crawl. Once I was twenty, he stopped coming to my room very frequently, only once in a while, especially on days he had a little too much to drink.

I remember when I was eighteen and had tried to flee; the iron gates had refused to open, and I was left pounding on them for a while before one of the bodyguards flung me over his shoulders and dropped me in the basement. I had gotten the beating of my life and spent the next three days in there with no water or food; they only let me out because they were sure that I was ready to behave.

"Let us go." Yvette's voice snapped me out of my memories. I stare at her and open my mouth to beg. "There is no use begging; this is your fate, and I suggest you take it," she said. I have wanted to avenge, but I am sure that I would be unable to get it with me being sold to a man who held my parents like a puppet. Was this my salvation? Was this my escape? Would I really be escaping?

I stand up, feeling my legs buckle under me. I turn to her and frown, still trying to beg; she knew how to get me out of there. "If you let me escape, I would never come back; you would never hear of me. I will live as if I am dead."

"The dead can't live; you either marry him or we both die."