Crave Me, My Monster

~Harriet~

"I choose to go back," my voice rang out, and then everything went black.

...

A month ago, life was peaceful. I had been the unknown daughter of the Anderson family. My sister's wedding was just a week away. I thought life was going rather peacefully. At least not until I was drugged and raped, countless pictures of my nakedness circulating the Internet. How could Mr Anderson tolerate such a promiscuous daughter?

He threw me out, announcing that he had nothing to do with me. The very moment I thought he would stand up for me, believe me when I said that I was drugged, he pushed me away and embraced his mistress and her daughter.

I was kidnapped, oblivious to was about to happen to me. But when they took me to the black market, I knew immediately what was going to happen. The way their eyes scanned my body, the way their lips curled when I trashed around–it was disgusting. Yet there was nothing I could do, or at least I thought so. They had drugged me.

“Don't worry, baby. You'll feel really good.” One of them muttered, his stinky face leaning in on my bloodied face. Did I forget to mention that they had slapped me over and over to make me behave?

I couldn't do anything about it. And so they took turns on me. Over and over again, they used my body until I felt my eyelids close. I wished to never wake up again.

I thought it was over. Until cold–chilling water hit my body, waking me up from my temporary escape. Had someone come to rescue me?

Opening my swollen eyes was a difficult task, yet I still managed to do it. But this time, I wasn't in the black market. I was somewhere else. It was night time. Completely dark, until a torch lit up. And then my eyes caught the figure. The figure that gave me hope. Her eyes shine with so much concern and my eyes watered with delight. Finally, someone who cared about me.

Kylie, my sister rushed over, crouching down.

“Oh my goodness, thank God I found you, you were missing for so long and father didn't seem to care. But how could I just sit and wait?” She muttered, more like a statement, and more like a question, but the only thing I caught clearly was the fact that my own father hadn't even bothered to find me. I still managed to smile.

“I'm glad you're here, sister,” I almost choked on my own saliva as I lifted my bound hands, hoping she would untie it.

Something flashed in her eyes that I couldn't see, but her next words had my body electrocuted.

“I'm not here to save you, though,” she muttered, staring at her perfectly manicured nails. And then I saw the look I had never seen her wear before–bone chilling coldness…

“You…”

“In fact, I'd come to make sure you don't appear in front of me again. Looks like the men from the black market hadn't done a good job, after all. I clearly stated that they get rid of you,” She added, her lips curling up, and I felt my world shatter.

“You–you were responsible?” I asked, unable to believe what I was hearing. A chilling giggle escaped her lips.

“Of course, sister. No one hates you as much as I do. I thought ruining your reputation would make father change his mind about handing the company shares to you. And I suppose it did work. But how can I become the heiress with you still around?” She asked, tilting her head as her face played a disgusting look. I was dumbfounded. For years I'd been thinking I had someone who cared for me. A sister. But who knew she always has this thought.

I shivered, my eyes stinging.

She didn't give me enough time, pulling out a dagger that glinted in the dark. I felt the metal pierce my chest, hitting my heart directly, yet the look in her eyes rendered me unable to resist. She looked thrilled.

My vision blurred, the sight of Kylie’s triumphant, smiling face shrinking to a pinprick of light before fading into absolute blackness.

The silence was the first thing I noticed. Then, the absence of pain. The crushing weight of betrayal, the ache of my violated body, the sting of the slap, the searing wound in my chest—it was all gone. I was floating in a soft, grey mist, formless and weightless.

A light bloomed in the distance, gentle and warm, not harsh like the torch Kylie had held. It drew closer, and a figure emerged from the mist. It was a woman, her features ageless and serene, yet her eyes held the depth of millennia.

“Harriet Anderson,” she said, her voice not a sound but a resonance that vibrated through my very essence.

“Your thread was cut too soon,” she stated.

Memories, not as painful wounds but as objective scenes, played out before us– my father’s cold dismissal, the disgusting faces of the men from the black market, Kylie’s bone-chilling confession, the glint of the dagger.

“They… she…” I tried to form the words, but in this place, they were unnecessary.

“I know,” the woman said before extending a hand, not to touch me, but to gesture at the void around us.

“The path ahead is yours to choose, Harriet. You may move on. This peace you feel now can be eternal. The pain is over. Or…”

The mist before us swirled, forming a hazy image of the world I’d left—the Anderson mansion, my father, Kylie marrying Rael Morgan , a smile on her face that made my non-existent blood run cold.

“Or, you can go back.”