I’m disappearing.
And part of me wants to.
But somewhere, buried deep beneath the settling layer of amnesia, a voice—my voice—flickers like a dying flame.
43
Nell
“Get off!”
Lea’s scream tears through the room, sharp and panicked, yanking me out of the void like a hook through flesh. I jolt awake, but the world is still spinning—tilted, warped, unreal. My limbs are slow to respond, my thoughts sluggish and tangled in the remnants of whatever they drugged me with.
Then I feel it.
The weight.
The pressure.
The presence between my legs.
A stranger.
A man I don’t recognise, moving against me like I’m not even there—like I’m just something to use and discard. His breath is sour, his skin slick, and every inch of him feels wrong.
Like a parasite.
A worm burrowing somewhere it doesn’t belong.
It takes a moment for my mind to catch up to my body, to register what’s happening. But when it does, the nausea hits hard and fast.
This isn’t a nightmare.
This is real.
Something snaps.
Maybe it’s the sound of Lea’s scream still echoing in my ears.
Maybe it’s the weight of him pressing down, the sick rhythm of his breath against my forehead.
Maybe it’s just the last thread of myself refusing to break.
But I move.
Not gracefully. Not with strength.
Just enough.
My knee jerks upward—clumsy, half-numb—but it connects. He grunts, more surprised than hurt, and I use the moment to twist my hips, to shove at his chest with what little force I can muster.
“Get off me!” I rasp, my voice raw, barely more than a murmur—but it’s mine. It’s me.
He curses, grabbing at my wrists, trying to pin me down again, but I thrash beneath him, wild and uncoordinated. My nails catch skin. I don’t know where. I don’t care. I just want him off.
Lea’s still screaming. I hear a crash—something thrown, maybe. A tray? A plate? I can’t see her, but I feel her panic like it’s my own.
The man snarls, but he’s off-balance now, fumbling. I twist again, harder this time, and manage to roll halfway out from under him. My shoulder hits the floor with a jolt of pain, but I don’t stop. I kick, claw, spit—anything to make him back off.
