To Become

2:25am - Control

I wouldn't let Greg touch me the day before, after that happened. This time he just grabbed my arm and pulled me into his office. He sat me down in a chair and examined my knees which had been scratched when Ryan had threw me down. He also wanted to look at the cuts, but I told him that they were just like tiny scratches. They would be fine. He put some antibiotic on my knees and then put a cloth over, taping it down with masking tape. Better than nothing. "Ryan has been acting strange lately these past few days. Did you say something to him?" I shook my head. "I see."

Greg was putting the stuff he took out up as I watched him. When he turned around, my mouth opened, sound actually coming out. I haven't been talking.

"I think he was trying to prove something to me." He sat down opposite of me on the table and motioned for me to go on. "Well the day before it happened, I asked him something." I looked at Greg, a bit nervous to continue. He just nodded his head. "I asked him if he loved me. You know like a caring, parental type of love." He asked me what Ryan said. "He said no, and when I asked him why," I paused. I didn't want to say it even though I knew it was already confirmed. I took a breath and continued. "He said it was because I was a filthy slut, but it's true you know!"

And it is. Before I passed out I remember him doing something. Showing me something. He stuck his fingers inside of me, and when he brought them out, they were wet. He showed them to me. "You like this don't you?" All I could do was shake my head. I didn't like it! I wanted him to stop! But perhaps, maybe, I just didn't want to admit it. Maybe I did like it. Maybe I did want him to hurt me. I took it just like a slut would. He was right. That's all I was. All I am.

Greg had listened to what I was saying before he said something to me. Something that I won't forget. "You can't control your body. Your mind and your body are two different things. In your mind, you hate it and want it to stop, but your body reacts to it in the opposite. Even mixed in the pain, there can be pleasure, and your body is going to pick out that little piece and enjoy it to mask the pain. It just means that you're a healthy little girl." He rubbed my head. I can't believe him. No matter how much truth may be in that.

The humiliation of me actually, possibly enjoying what he did to me. How could I live with that? Why does he make me feel this way? I can't control my body? I can't control anything! I hate myself! I'm absolutely disgusting! Filthy like Ryan said. I have to change this! I don't want to hate myself. I don't want to be disgusting or filthy. I want to be a butterfly. Beautiful, perfect.

I think I know what I have to do. I'll be a butterfly. I'll transform, and once I'm done, I'll fly away from here. This is my punishment. Punishment for being me.