Slowly I wake up to the sound of a camera, and a flash in my eyes. As I regain consciousness I realise instantly where I am; this place is sickeningly familiar.
I see my father, happily snapping away. I try to shout, to run, but again my efforts are futile. The fucker must have drugged me. I feel tears run along the sides of my temples - this is the only sign of my inoperable anger.
"You recognise this place honey?" my father says with a smile "It's our lillte old love nest." He stops taking photos and sets the camera down on the bedside table. He sits on the side of the bed looking down at me, just as he always used to. He lays a hand on my stomach, and as he does I realise that he's undressed me. His hand lingers there a while.
"You know, you're terribly different from how I always remember." As he tells me this, he squeezes hard on my left breast. His look turns sour and leaning down towards me, he whispers "But then life is pretty different for all of us these days isn't it." And with that I recieve a hard blow to the stomach. At such gut-wrenching pain usually I would buckle, but I am incapable even of that.
He places his hands under my shoulders and lifts my body upwards so that my head is propped up against the headboard. As he does so I hear him talking to me about how if it weren't for me, my mother would not have left him. I find it hard to listen - the blow seems to have sent my head spinning. He then climbs up onto the bed and positions himself so that his knees are either side of my arms, squeezing them tight against my body, and his bulging crotch directly in front of my face...
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