Six months have passed since my horrid mistake on my anniversary. Once I'd cleaned everything up and gotten some sleep I realized what a horrible thing I'd done. I'd not only cheated on my boyfriend Robert, but in an exceptionally dirty manner. I felt gross, I couldn't even bring myself to let him touch me. Eventually I'd burned everything from that night...the sheets, the lingerie, the tie down straps...I couldn't bring myself to have any reminders in the house. For a while, I would jump at every sound, certain that John and his gang were there again, waiting to use my body. When I left the house it was only to go to work or the store. My boyfriend tried to get me to go out, but I was too afraid I'd see one of them, so I told him that I was too tired or had a headache. We ended up fighting. A lot.
Yesterday, he left me. I came home early, having just lost my job because of poor performance and found a moving van outside. I skirted shyly past the men carrying boxes and furniture...keeping my head down in case one of them were the guys from my rape. I'd glance quickly at their faces as I passed, just to be sure, but still bee-lined for the door. Robert was standing in the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. He didn't hear me approaching over the noise of the movers.
"I know it's a shitty way to leave hun," he spoke softly into his bluetooth, "but you know how it's been here...and you know I'll be happier there. Yes. Yes, I know. I'm leaving a note with the number for that therapist you mentioned. Yes. I'm sure she'll be fine, I wouldn't leave like this if I wasn't. I love you too, see you in a few hours."
I gasped quietly and ran back toward the front door. I bumped into a man on my way out. I couldn't even see through the tears, he wrapped his arms around me to help steady me...I started sobbing and screaming at the same time. I couldn't form coherent words, I just wanted to get away. I tried to beat at the man, so he released me.
"Crazy bitch" he muttered, picking up the last box in the living room and walking back out.
Robert came around the corner, note in hand.
"You weren't supposed to be home yet." He stated flatly. I couldn't hear any emotion in his voice.
"I lost my job..." I said, choking back a sob.
"Yes...well..." he handed me the note..."here. And um...sorry."
That was it. He walked out. I suppose this was another thing I should have known. But I stood there in shock for a moment staring out our open front door, watching him get in his car and follow the moving van down the street. I was not really registering what was going on. Had I really been that horrible to live with? I suppose I had. But I couldn't tell him what had happened to me. He would have left me. He left me anyway. I should have done something different. What? I don't know...something. Suddenly, I felt sick. I ran to the bathroom and threw up twice. Then I sat there on the floor crying. I couldn't tell you for how long.
When I finally calmed down, I took a shower, washing the salt from my face. Feeling minimally better, I walked back out into the hall. I could see my open front door...darker now, the street lamps were lit. An urgent shock hit me...I'd left my door open! I ran over and slammed it shut. Locking both the deadbolt and the doorknob. I leaned against it, panting, saying a silent prayer to God for change.
"Please, God, please give me a different life."
I finished wrapping my hair in a towel, and pulled on my bathrobe. Pouring myself a coffee-cup of wine (Robert took all our wine glasses), I carried it room to room surveying the damage. He'd taken so many things I'd thought were ours, and what he took made no sense. In the living room, he'd left the couch, coffee table, and entertainment center...but taken the love seat and throw rug. In the den he'd taken the couch and bookshelves, left the stereo equipment, but none of the music. The kitchen was in shambles...I decided to finish that survey later. The bedroom still had our bed, but it was stripped of the satin sheets he'd bought, and he'd taken our dresser, dumping my clothes out on to the bed. The mirror was still there...I stared at myself in it for a while. Hating the girl looking back at me. How had I become so pathetic?
In disgust, I threw a blanket over the mirror and walked out.
Our office was the worst...he'd taken everything, leaving only my computer sitting on the old desk we'd stored in the garage and my chair. The computer was off, cables and everything hanging about. It was obvious he'd just lifted the whole thing off our nice desk and dumped it on the old one. The rest of the room was barren.
I stared at the computer and thought about criagslist...about everything I'd done to lead up to this...I started feeling like I was going to cry again, so I turned quickly out of the room. I deposited my coffee cup on the kitchen counter, something Robert would have never let me do, and went to blow dry my hair.
A few minutes later I came out of the bathroom again...feeling a little more like myself...but still in shock. I stood in the hall uncertainly...I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. That's when I saw a glow from the office. My heart racing, I crept toward the door...it was cracked slightly...though I was certain I'd left it open. I pushed it open slowly, ready to run if I had to...the room was still just as barren as before. Only now, my computer was on. I walked around the desk to look at the screen...what I saw there made my heart stop.
It was me, smiling up at the camera, dick in my mouth, drool and cum dripping down my chin. In the background you could see my hand wrapped around another cock and in the mirror you could see a reflection of a guy just on the verge of entering my ass. Along the bottom of the picture there was a message...
"We've been wondering when our toy would be home alone again..."
I screamed...loudly...this couldn't be happening. Frantically, I ran around the house, checking doors and windows. The front door was still closed...I ran to the back...the bedroom window was open, I slammed it shut quickly and locked it. Desperately, I looked around for the phone to call the police...Robert had taken the bedroom phone! I ran to the kitchen...that one was gone too...the office? Gone...I had no phone! I thought frantically...my cell! I'd dropped my purse by the front door. I ran down the hall again and froze.
My front door was open.
I saw my purse laying in the entry way...I could grab it and run for my car. It wasn't far...I could go to a friend's can be safe. I stood there for a moment, listening...trying to figure out what to do. I heard a noise behind me. I ran. I got to my purse, not even slowing down, I just swooped it up and leapt over the door frame.
I felt the wind knocked out of me as I hit something solid. Frank was standing there, arms around me. He dragged me roughly back into the entry way and slammed the door.
