The Psychic

BY : SerafintheGreat
Category: Original - Misc > General
Dragon prints: 12916
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real people, situations, or locations are coincidental.

A month later, and I still haven’t gotten my period. Now he demands we do a weekly weigh in, so he can see if it’s because I’m starving myself. Every week, my weight was either the same or lesser. I tried drinking a lot of water, putting things in my pockets to weigh me down, but he caught onto all that fast, so this time he’s making me do it first thing in the morning after I pee, naked. When I step on the scale, it’s revealed that I’ve lost even more weight than I thought.

“Oh, no, my dear. What has happened to you? This depresses me. Why must you make me so sad?” He asks me.

I don’t answer him.

He hand lightly caresses my waist, “You used to be so soft to the touch, and now I feel your ribs against me. I want you to be healthy.” He grips onto me harder,  “You aren’t doing this on purpose to upset me, are you?”

I shake my head.

“I believe you,” he responds, his grip loosening.

“What can I do to make you healthy?” He takes me in his arms and presses my naked body against his suit.  

          

Everything is quiet that day. The Doc and I sit in the kitchen. There’s a deep sadness in the air, like a thunderstorm approaching. I can tell the Doc wants to speak so many words to me. Ask me so many questions about the Psychic, and what has happened, and what he’s done with me. I don’t look at him. I don’t look at him at all.

“You know, I have to admit I’m a little surprised,” he breaks the silence.

I look at him.

“You aren’t a total idiot.”

I want him dead, and my feelings must be transparent.

“Well, the way you’re playing this is very smart. You know, making it seem like you also have feelings for him, unless, that is, you do…”

He looks at me with knowing eyes. Without even thinking, I jump on top of him and start pounding my fists into his fucking face. If I can break his nose, I will have succeeded even if it means the death of me. Eventually, he grabs my wrists and flips me over so he’s on top of me.

“Calm down, calm down. I’m here to help you.”

“I will cut your dick off.”

“You have a lot of pent up aggression, don’t you?”

“I’m going to tell him what happened.”

“You aren’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the only other person you have to talk to in here besides him.”

I stop resisting.

“Can you get the fuck off of me now, please?”

He stands up, and he extends his hand to me. I refuse to take it from him.

Later in the evening the Psychic comes home for dinner. He seems unusually giddy.  

“Tonight is going to be a late night, darling, don’t wait up for me,” he comes over to me and kisses me on the forehead in front of the Doc. No accusations this night. Just a quiet dinner.

He leaves, and I go straight into our room. I contemplate the thought of doing push-ups to regain some of the core-strength I spent my whole life working on, but then I question the point. At what end do I need abdominal muscles?  

I know the Doc is downstairs, and I know the Psychic is gone for the night. The Doc wants me to speak words to him, he wants me to go down there and tell him everything about the Psychic. I refuse to engage. Now he’s attempting to get in by claiming he’s an “ally.” I’m sure he’s only doing that to pull the rug out from under me once I get attached to his attention.

I'd rather stay in here and stare at the ceiling until sleep puts me out of my misery.

I wake up to a big crash. I hear a bunch of voices downstairs. I realize quickly it’s the Psychic.  There’s a big commotion, then a loud, “Where’s my sweetie-pie, Margot, where is she?”

I hear a quiet voice respond to him, though I can’t hear what it says.

“Doc,” though the Psychic is quiet, I still feel I can hear him crystal clear, “Doc, where is she?”

I open the door to my room quietly, and I sneak down the stairs toward the living room. As I get closer, I can make out the Doc’s voice better.

“Psychic, I think you should maybe lie down in here for the night, in front of the fire.”

“Why would I do that when I have a perfectly comfortable bed with a young lady waiting for me?”

“I just think that now isn’t the time.”

“Where is she, Doc?”

“Don’t worry about her. You need to get some rest.”

I hear a loud crash that makes me jump, “Where is she?” He’s yelling now.

“Psychic, I’m just saying I don’t believe right now, with you like this, is a good time for you to see her.”

I don’t know why I’m drawn to the living room. Why I don’t just hide upstairs and wait for him to find me there.

“What did you do to her?.”

“Now’s not the right-“

“What did you do to her?” he screams, “I will break your neck, if you don’t tell me where she is now, I will break your-“

Then I walk into the living room. I see his eyes are on fire, and he has the Doc’s head in his hands, poised to break his neck. A few goons stand around, paralyzed, incapable of doing anything in regards to the situation.

“I’m here.” I announce, quietly.

When he sees me, his bleary eyes light up. He throws the Doc to the floor and extends his arms.

“Margot, my sweet, come here to me.”

I can feel Doc’s eyes on me, and I have to step over him to make my way to the Psychic. I allow him to wrap his arms around me. I even wrap my around him. He hugs me close, and I can smell how drunk he is.

“I was so worried about you. I was so worried that Doc did something stupid and hurt you forever.”

“No, I’m fine."

I realize the Psychic isn’t very stable. I have to hold onto him tight to keep him standing.  

“I thought you were gone forever. I don’t know what I would have done if I found out something happened to you.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Don’t scare me like that.”

“I won’t. I’m staying right here.”

 I realize everyone in this room is watching this happen, and he’s so far gone that he doesn’t even notice what he’s saying in front of all these people.

 “I’m tired. I want to go back to sleep,” I finally say, not necessarily because I’m tired, but because he needs to get to a bed before he collapses onto the floor.

The Psychic nods, now fully incapable of keeping his eyes on anything. The Doc scoots out of the way as we pass him. He can barely stand as I lead him out of the room and up the stairs.

We make it to his bedroom, thankfully, and I let him inside. He goes immediately to the bed, and he collapses onto it. He kicks his shoes off, and he rolls over to his side. He makes motions with his arms, as if reaching for something on the other side.

He wants me.

I crawl over him, and I let him grab a hold of me and bring me close to his body.

“Don’t leave me,” he manages before he falls deeply asleep.

In this familiar position, I also fall asleep.

           

I’m woken up in the middle of the night by a sudden jerking motion.

The Psychic is holding onto me, shivering. He buries his head into my back. I hear him whispering, “No, no, no!” He starts banging his head against my back, “No, no, NO!”

He claws at me more, wrapping one arm around my stomach and the other around my neck. He starts squeezing, hard. I struggle to breath, as he continues crying into my back. His teeth latch onto my arm and he starts biting me. I scream as he breaks skin, and then between all of this, I feel a warm fluid pouring onto my back.

It’s him. He’s wetting the bed and peeing on me. I can’t scream anymore. If this continues, I will die. Finally, I manage to head butt him from behind and this releases everything.

“Margot? Margot!” He screams. He crawls on top of me and starts shaking my body brutally, “Margot, answer me!”

I feel I’m about to get whiplash when I manage, “Stop! Please, stop!”

He stops shaking me, but then he screams in my face, “Why didn’t you answer me?” When I don’t answer, he shakes me again, “Why didn’t you answer me?”

And then I start crying, terrified by everything that just happened. I felt so close to death in all of those moments, and now he’s yelling at me. The tears come streaming down my face. I have a hard time breathing, choking, grasping for air, as I cry.

“Oh, Margot, why are you crying again? Why are you always crying?” He shakes me.

I can’t answer him. I still feel I’m gasping for air.

“Please say something.” He asks of me.

“You almost killed me.” I finally respond.

“No, that’s impossible. I didn’t do that.”

“You did. In your sleep. You started choking me, and then you bit me, and then you,“ and I choke a little bit more.

“Oh, no, darling, that must have been some terrible mistake. I would never ever do that to you.”

“You did,” I scream back at him.

“Not you. You know how I feel about you.”

Then he sniffs.

I cry more as he sniffs around him.

“Oh, no, darling, I must have scared you if you did that.”

I stop crying, listening to him, wanting so hard to tell him the truth of that situation. That he pissed himself. It wasn’t me, but then, instead-

“I’ll clean it. I’m sorry,” I respond.

“No, no, no, sweet girl, you won’t clean that. Not now. I’ll have a goon do it later. We’ll go sleep in another room. You need rest. You’ve had a hard night. You’re seeing things that didn’t quite happen.”

I sniffle a little bit more, not liking this game at all. He gathers me in his arms and carries me like an innocent child, and I don’t resist. I hold onto his neck and bury my head into his chest.

“That’s it, sweet girl, I’m here to protect you. I would never hurt you.”

He carries me out of his room, down the hallway, and he stops in front of my old room. As we walk in, I am suddenly flooded with the memories of the gang rape. Just when I thought I couldn’t be anymore sad, I’m reminded of that time.

He sets me down on the bed, which is just a twin-sized bed. I expect him to squeeze in with me when I see him examining the front of his suit. He sees it’s the front of him that’s wet. I can see the cogs turning in his head, and I’m scared of the realization he’ll have and how he will feel once he knows he’s the one who wet the bed.

“Why aren’t you coming to bed?” I ask in my most innocent voice, “Please, just go to sleep with me. I don’t want to be alone.” I whimper to him.

He nods, and he takes off his suit and strips down to nothing. He slides into the bed with me and he holds me close to him.

I wake up with a start. I look for him, but he’s gone. He’s at the door.

He has a knife to the Doc’s throat. He says something to the Doc.

“Sir?” I try to get is attention. He releases his grip of Doc and he looks at me. Then, he looks directly into my eyes.

“You can go back to sleep.”

And then everything is black.

 



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