Not Lea.
“Stop it!” I snap, voice raw with panic.
But the man above me is faster. His hand slams harder into my throat, cutting off the words, the air—everything.
“Eyes on me girl,” he mumbles between thrusts.
Lea’s eyes flutter shut. She just lies there—a broken girl surrendering to the inevitable.
And I know what this will do to her.
Not just her body, but her mind and soul.
This kind of trauma doesn’t just leave scars. It buries you. And if something doesn’t stop it—if I don’t stop it—it will kill her.
“Get off her,” I wheeze, the words barely scraping past my raw throat.
The man on top of me laughs—a low, cruel sound to remind me he’s enjoying the show. He shifts his grip, releasing my neck just enough for air to rush back in, but not enough to free me. Instead, he presses my face into the mattress, pinning me there like I’m nothing.
And then he turns his head—watching. Making me watch alongside him.
Watching as the other man climbs on top of Lea, looming over her like a reaper.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare scream.
He presses himself into her broken body, and I feel something inside me tear.
I scream again, but it’s useless.
He’s not listening.
None of them are.
She’s as pale as a ghost, barely tethered to consciousness when he begins forcing himself into her—ignoring the way herbody convulses beneath him, every movement wracked with agony.
When he grips her hip like she’s just something to hold onto, rage detonates inside me—hot, blinding, unstoppable.
“You’re killing her! Get off her!” I scream, voice cracking with fury and helplessness.
But he doesn’t look up, doesn’t even flinch.
He just keeps going, taking what he wants from a dying, helpless girl.
Her eyes find mine.
Gone is the spark and with it, the fight she had left.
What’s left is something hollow. Her brows draw together, her lips press into a hard, trembling line—but I can already see it.
She’s slipping.
Her body couldn’t take any more. And now this?
This is how she dies?
Not in peace. Not with dignity.
But brutalised. Dehumanised. Alone.
