When I woke up the next day, I found myself in a haze, struggling to remember how I had
returned to my room.
The night felt like a distant dream, yet fragments began to surface—the
tender touch, the gentle kiss on my forehead. I instinctively placed my hand on my head, as if
I could somehow summon that moment back into reality. My thoughts wandered to his
intense gaze, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, and that enigmatic smile that hinted
at secrets and unspoken desires.
Suddenly, my reverie was shattered by a knock on the door. My heart raced as I wondered
who it could be. "Derek!" I exclaimed, surprised yet apprehensive.
"Good morning," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He greeted me with that same
mischievous smile, one that sent a shiver down my spine. "How was your night?" he asked,
his tone casual, but beneath it, I sensed something unusual, an electricity in the air that
made my skin prickle.
"Fine," I replied, though the knot in my stomach told me otherwise. I couldn't shake the
feeling that something was off about him.
After he left, I went through my morning routine—brushing my teeth, taking a long, hot
shower. Each drop of water seemed to wash away the remnants of last night, but my
thoughts remained tangled. When I finally headed downstairs for breakfast, dread filled me
at the sight of Derek already seated at the table.
"Great," I muttered to myself, "just what I need." His demeanor had shifted, and I could feel
an invisible barrier between us, charged with unspoken words.
Once breakfast concluded, we all filed out to the garage to say goodbye to my sister, who
was leaving earlier than expected. Deniyah, Derek's sister, hurried off for her swimming
lesson, leaving me alone with him. As we lingered in the empty house, the atmosphere grew
heavy with unexpressed feelings.
"Let's go to my studio," Derek suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. I hesitated but
eventually agreed, curious about the space he had claimed for his musical pursuits.
Inside the studio, we played card games, laughter filling the air, momentarily dispelling the
tension. But soon, Derek declared he was bored and wanted to do something more engaging.
"Come sit on the couch," he said, patting the seat beside him. I moved closer, intrigued, and
asked what he wanted to discuss.
He started asking a barrage of questions, and our conversation flowed easily. But before I
realized it, he had shifted even closer, his laughter ringing in my ears. His hand brushed
against mine, sending jolts of electricity coursing through my body. I felt a mix of excitement
and confusion as his hand lingered on my lap longer than I ever imagined it would.
"What's happening?" I asked, my heart racing. His response took me by surprise—he
confessed that he couldn't resist any longer, that ever since I had arrived, a tumultuous
feeling had been brewing inside him.
In a sudden, overwhelming moment, he pushed me against the armrest of the couch. Panic
surged through me as I protested, reminding him of our familial ties, but it was as if reason
had deserted him. With a swift motion, he tore off my shirt and kissed me with a ferocity I
couldn't comprehend. Tears filled my eyes as I screamed, realizing the soundproof walls
would keep my cries unheard. He laughed—a chilling sound that echoed in the silence,
taunting my helplessness.
He continued his assault, stripping away my trousers and underwear, touching me in ways
that made my pleas for him to stop feel futile.
"Please, Derek, no!" I begged, but he only pressed on, consumed by a darkness I could not fathom. In a moment that felt like an
eternity, he turned me over and forced himself upon me. I cried out, wishing for the ground to
open up and swallow me whole, but nothing came to my rescue.
He continued until he reached his climax, collapsing onto me afterward, leaving me broken and trembling.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, but I pushed him away, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I
didn't know what came over me," he stammered, blaming it on some devilish impulse. My
body was in excruciating pain; I felt bruised and shattered, unable to stand on my own.
I limped away like a wounded animal, desperate to escape his grasp. He reached out to me,
but I recoiled, pushing him away with all my strength. "Please, let's keep this a secret," he
pleaded, his eyes wide with desperation. I had no intention of telling anyone; the shame and
agony I felt were already unbearable.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally made my way back to my room. I rushed into the
bathroom, desperate to cleanse myself of the physical and emotional remnants of that
encounter. As I sank into a warm bath, the soothing water brought some relief, but the
stench of shame still clung to me. I applied ointment to my wounds, dressed, and fell onto
my bed, crying until sleep enveloped me like a shroud.
A knock on my door startled me awake. It was the maid, calling me for dinner. My heart sank
at the thought of facing Derek again. With a heavy heart, I made my way downstairs, avoiding
his gaze, trying to act as if he were invisible. It was working until his mother asked about my
day. I had planned to say I was stressed, but Derek interjected, claiming my day had been
"interesting." I shot him a scornful look, while his mother continued to probe, asking if
everything was alright. "Not really," I replied, my voice strained. "Just that Derek is quite a
handful."