Sadie's Mountain Read Online Free

over the thought that Dillon wouldn’t want me anymore, filled me with a rumble of adrenaline. I shoved Donnie’s heavy frame away, pushed back against the bags of feed with my back, and kicked him in his stomach as hard as I could. The knife scraped across my neck for just a brief second and I almost screamed but before I could, Donnie punched me in the gut causing the air to leave my whole body.
     I was doubled over, mouth opening like a fish needing water. I couldn’t breathe. Before I could do or say anything, he turned me around and slammed my face into the bags of feed. Then he kicked my feet apart one at a time with his dirty boots.
    I heard the sound of his zipper, and then he pulled my panties with his knife, tearing them off me, and viciously ripped into me robbing me, in that moment, of my choices, of my virtue, of my future, of the girl I once was and never would be again. That girl died right then.
    I caught my breath and cried out, “No!”
    “Shut the fuck up!” he whispered through gritted teeth as he grabbed my face and pinched my mouth shut.
     I tried to straighten my back. But with his knife-hand he pulled me up by my stomach, my feet left the ground with my legs dangling, and he pushed me back onto himself as I gasped and clawed at the bags in front of me.
    His fist and the handle of the knife pushed into my belly. I was pinned in place as my cringing fists pressed against the bags of feed. He covered my mouth with his other hand, jabbing his fingernails into my face as he set my feet back on the ground.
    He moaned deep in his throat and thrashed into me again, piercing me with pain, but I couldn’t make a sound. Screams were stuck in my throat. “Yer so tight,” he hissed in my ear, twisting his pelvis around and around.
    I screwed my eyes shut to take my thoughts upward on my body. A tearing, slicing pain shot through me. It was more than I could take. But I was powerless to stop it. Helpless.
    “So. Sweet. Just. Like. I. Knew. You’d. Be,” he mumbled into my ear while he slowly sunk farther into me—relishing me. “This is mine,” he claimed, as I felt something warm trickle down my right leg.
    I hurt so badly. I thought he was ripping me in two—in a way he was. There was her, and now there is only me. 
    Tears were forcing themselves down my face onto his hand and I had a lump in my throat from the screams that were stuck there. I felt his feet slide farther apart pushing mine with his, forcing them wider. He tilted his pelvis and pushed my chest into the bags of feed. “Stay still or I’ll cut you agin,” he admonished, his voice strained.
    I didn’t move. I couldn’t have anyway. I was like a dead butterfly pinned into one of those glass boxes. My legs were restrained with his feet, he held my stomach with his knife hand, the blade of the knife engraved my pale flesh before he let go.
    He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and slammed into me over and over. A deep, pummeling rhythm ensued with his crass grunts and my pained breaths as a static background.
     I remember the strangest things from this moment. The smell of the bags of feed, as he pushed my chin into them, they smelled sweet and nourishing and reminded me of my horses. Then I looked up at the dust in the shed as it was being highlighted by what was left of the sunlight shining in through the slabs of wood in a strand of air right above my head. The dust sparkled and performed until it disappeared.
    Then in the dark, my thoughts turned to Dillon not wanting me anymore. I could actually see Dillon’s image, his ocean blue eyes gleaming at me as if he was standing near a clear lake and then it rippled and he disappeared—I was alone.
    He’s never going to love me now .
    Then I thought about momma saying babies come from sex. I had an image of myself with a pooched out tummy over my Daddy’s knee getting whipped with his belt for being with child—a hussy.
    I pinched my eyes shut and pretended my body was not