Every single time in the past when he had raped me while I was out cold and defenseless, I'd wake up naked, my clothes stripped off, and sprawled across our bed in a tangle of sheets.
My whole body was utterly shattered, every muscle aching and bruises already forming.
But worst of all was the hollow, empty feeling in my heart - like a piece of my soul had been violently ripped away.
Despite the trauma, I just went about my daily routine as if nothing had happened, as if it was just another normal day in my personal hell.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and stepped into the shower, scrubbing away at my skin with scorching hot water and a loofah until it was raw and pink.
I was trying to wash away the lingering traces of last night from my body, the ghostly sensations of his roug
