Chapter 35. I Cried…

Aubrianne Ivanov

He grabbed and pinned me on the wall, grinded on me, and groped me. I cringed away like I was trying to brakes from the memory and cried more.

His eyes, how he looked at me with those crazed eyes, and it was like I was seeing it all over again, clear as day. I beat against a pillow as I cried, thinking of how he flung me onto the couch and pinned me down, hands above my head as he grinded into me some more.

I cried at the memory of how helpless I felt.

I shuddered, “Oh God, II ccan’t tttake thththis,” I stuttered in between sobs, shouting at no one.

This onslaught of memories was too much to bear. Whenever something traumatizing came to the forefront of my mind, I squealed out in intervals. I groaned out as if I was in terrible pain.

Deep down, though, I cried as well, because I missed Ron.

Then I cried because I cried about missing him and about the fact that I was actually missing him in the first place. I