rod

s different. The pain is more of an ache, a growing discomfort i

g just out of reach. Every time I Feel myself start to slip, either the fire or the pa

uld reach down and touch my stoma

pains, I find that I can��t even scream. I c

ly downward as I feel a trickle s

t me with an intensity and�� glee? Joy?

lize that it isn��t urine runni

stream down both my legs, and for once Ares doesn��t seem gleeful at the fact that b

sound seems to reach my ears. Instead, dark spots begin to swi

??? *??? ?

thing

body isn��t chained up somewhere

is go

o be a hospital. There are monitors next to my bed, some of them hooked up to my body as they record the rhythm of my heartbeat an

voice rings out--easing my fear ever

e child is gone, but there��s nothing preventin

s resonate

pregnan

preg

e pain. All in my lower s

n of what happened dawns on me. I had a

ide of me, and it died under his torture. A ti

result of rape, it was still a life--and

ail

ge, a stupid part of me feels like it��s my fault. I should have fought ba

nt child died

s falling down my cheeks until a soft han

s not straying from my pained face as he giv

it earns me a beating. I hope he beats me ag

ing a life I

se me. They��re words I never r

m sor

s so

s so

not get to

hate you,�

ugh, causing me to ten

sponse, as he drops a kiss