A Tattered Butterfly - Chapter IV
Chapter IV has arrived. Chapters V~IX have been written but I feel I must make adjustments before posting them for all to see. I sincerely hope you understand.
Please enjoy the latest installment of A Tattered Butterfly.
You can read the first 3 chapters here: http://megaman-atlas.livejournal.com/1107.html
Chapter IV
~Phoenix Wright~
I lay on my side on the small, cheap bed I’d been given to sleep on, panting hard, tears streaming down my face. Searing pain radiated from my back and from my bloody, violated rear. My forehead was dripping with sweat, my back with blood. I could still feel that disgusting fluid in me, a feeling worse even than lashes of the whip. I was in so much pain I could barely move.
I was shivering from something besides the cold as I lied there crying, longing for my home and the people I cared about. I wondered if they were thinking about me, if they missed me and wished that I’d come home again someday.
I closed my eyes tightly and thought about Miles, trying to focus on the image of his face like I did so often to try and soothe myself and forget my pain. I remembered the way he smiled at me, not only with his smooth lips but with his beautiful silver eyes as well. I loved to think about him, to remember his handsome face and to imagine what he must be doing at the moment.
As my crying intensified to loud, agonized sobs, I tried to imagine Miles and I back at home together, walking through his garden with Pesu at our heels. It was one of my fondest memories of him, and I treasured it, especially now in these dark, hopeless days.
Walking past a colourful array of beautiful flowers, we’d been talking about our latest cases. We had been hanging around more and more with one another lately, and I had been trying to gather up the courage to tell him how I felt…
We’d come to his favourite rose bush, where he’d stopped unexpectedly, taken a pair of garden clippers, and taken a large, blood-red rose from near the top, turning and handing it to me with a graceful bow.
“F-for me?” I’d gasped.
Never in my wildest dreams had I ever expected to receive such a gift from him, and I felt elated. A joyous smile had overtaken my face as I looked upon the crimson flower, bringing it up to my nose to take in its sweet scent.
“Wright,” He’d said, showing a bit of uncharacteristic apprehension. “I… I have a confession to make.”
I’d looked up at him, startled. What would he say next?
“I…” Here he’d paused, just for a moment, and lifted his head to smile shyly at me. “I love you.”
“Oh, Miles!” I’d exclaimed.
I’d thrown my arms around him, still holding the rose, throwing myself upon him with childlike enthusiasm, completely unable to restrain my boundless joy. I couldn’t believe it; he’d told me he loved me! The wish I had pursued so passionately for years, even given up my dream of being a painter for, had finally come true.
I couldn’t have been happier.
“Shut up!”
The sharp voice snapped me back to the present day, and, at the same time, caused me to bite back the tears and look up at the man standing before me. I hoped and silently pled to God that he wouldn’t whip or beat me for being noisy.
“Stop making so damn much noise, you stupid, useless bitch!” He roared.
“Y-yes, sir…” I whimpered quickly. “F-forgive me, m-m-master…”
I felt so pathetic, so used and so filthy. With every passing day I felt worse and worse, having to kiss up and act as nicely as I could towards a man who whipped and used and raped me every day. Barely three weeks, and I already hated myself more than I could stand.
The man snorted, and I bit my lip harder, fearing the worst from that sound. Would he punish me anyway?
“Fine.” He growled. “Just shut the hell up and don’t let it happen again.”
He was probably just too tired to really care, given how late it was. Chances were, now that he'd finished with me, he just wanted to get some sleep. It actually came as a relief, since it meant that for now, I would avoid more lashes from the whip.
Curling up even tighter into myself, I bit my lip to try and keep from becoming vocal as I began to weep once more. My heart ached just as much as my body, as I began to wonder if I would ever see home again, and realized that what little hope I had left was rapidly waning.
Soon enough, without even realizing, my tired body gave up for the night… I cried myself to sleep.
Please enjoy the latest installment of A Tattered Butterfly.
You can read the first 3 chapters here: http://megaman-atlas.livejournal.com/1107.html
Chapter IV
~Phoenix Wright~
I lay on my side on the small, cheap bed I’d been given to sleep on, panting hard, tears streaming down my face. Searing pain radiated from my back and from my bloody, violated rear. My forehead was dripping with sweat, my back with blood. I could still feel that disgusting fluid in me, a feeling worse even than lashes of the whip. I was in so much pain I could barely move.
I was shivering from something besides the cold as I lied there crying, longing for my home and the people I cared about. I wondered if they were thinking about me, if they missed me and wished that I’d come home again someday.
I closed my eyes tightly and thought about Miles, trying to focus on the image of his face like I did so often to try and soothe myself and forget my pain. I remembered the way he smiled at me, not only with his smooth lips but with his beautiful silver eyes as well. I loved to think about him, to remember his handsome face and to imagine what he must be doing at the moment.
As my crying intensified to loud, agonized sobs, I tried to imagine Miles and I back at home together, walking through his garden with Pesu at our heels. It was one of my fondest memories of him, and I treasured it, especially now in these dark, hopeless days.
Walking past a colourful array of beautiful flowers, we’d been talking about our latest cases. We had been hanging around more and more with one another lately, and I had been trying to gather up the courage to tell him how I felt…
We’d come to his favourite rose bush, where he’d stopped unexpectedly, taken a pair of garden clippers, and taken a large, blood-red rose from near the top, turning and handing it to me with a graceful bow.
“F-for me?” I’d gasped.
Never in my wildest dreams had I ever expected to receive such a gift from him, and I felt elated. A joyous smile had overtaken my face as I looked upon the crimson flower, bringing it up to my nose to take in its sweet scent.
“Wright,” He’d said, showing a bit of uncharacteristic apprehension. “I… I have a confession to make.”
I’d looked up at him, startled. What would he say next?
“I…” Here he’d paused, just for a moment, and lifted his head to smile shyly at me. “I love you.”
“Oh, Miles!” I’d exclaimed.
I’d thrown my arms around him, still holding the rose, throwing myself upon him with childlike enthusiasm, completely unable to restrain my boundless joy. I couldn’t believe it; he’d told me he loved me! The wish I had pursued so passionately for years, even given up my dream of being a painter for, had finally come true.
I couldn’t have been happier.
“Shut up!”
The sharp voice snapped me back to the present day, and, at the same time, caused me to bite back the tears and look up at the man standing before me. I hoped and silently pled to God that he wouldn’t whip or beat me for being noisy.
“Stop making so damn much noise, you stupid, useless bitch!” He roared.
“Y-yes, sir…” I whimpered quickly. “F-forgive me, m-m-master…”
I felt so pathetic, so used and so filthy. With every passing day I felt worse and worse, having to kiss up and act as nicely as I could towards a man who whipped and used and raped me every day. Barely three weeks, and I already hated myself more than I could stand.
The man snorted, and I bit my lip harder, fearing the worst from that sound. Would he punish me anyway?
“Fine.” He growled. “Just shut the hell up and don’t let it happen again.”
He was probably just too tired to really care, given how late it was. Chances were, now that he'd finished with me, he just wanted to get some sleep. It actually came as a relief, since it meant that for now, I would avoid more lashes from the whip.
Curling up even tighter into myself, I bit my lip to try and keep from becoming vocal as I began to weep once more. My heart ached just as much as my body, as I began to wonder if I would ever see home again, and realized that what little hope I had left was rapidly waning.
Soon enough, without even realizing, my tired body gave up for the night… I cried myself to sleep.