Thank you very much gscmar64. Course it helps already having wrote everything down. I can type, but have tremors, so can have issues there. But don't worry, the story isn't done.
The next morning
Cold. Wet. Pain.
That's the only thing I understood at first, as the world and life seeped back into me. I had no idea where I was, what was going on. I didn't even know what had happened. There was no real awareness, the concussion had saw to that. That, coupled with the lack of air, had robbed me of any coherent thoughts, at least for the moment. Just pain. Just cold. Just wet.
Even the thought of movement brought agony and sobs to me. Somewhere, I vaguely heard cars driving by and the flash of headlights. I think I tried to move and something grabbed at me and I curled up more, whimpering, confused, as I remembered what had happened. As things slowly came back into focus and I hated that. I hated waking up. If I was a better person, a stronger person, someone worthwhile, this would have been when they struggled and stood and proclaimed that they would get revenge or that this wouldn't break them. If I was a better person, maybe. Instead, as realization hit me, I only had one thought.
Why wasn't I dead.
I actually hated the idea that I wasn't. I was shit, I was ruined, I had came. I deserved it. I had fucking let go.
Why the fuck wasn't I dead!
I shifted a bit and felt something grabbing at me again and i whimpered, but this time, I was focused enough to see through the moonlight and cars passing by, I was in a bush. The many small branches and leaves were what was "grabbing" me. I shuddered as another car passed by. I couldn't see much but I was much closer to the interstate than before. The creek could be heard right nearby even though I couldn't see it in the dark. Every part of my body ached. I started to sit up, to get my bearing when I screamed in pain. I spasmed, sobbing, as i reached down, and felt it.
I was apparently still naked, dragged to this bush, and dumped in it. I was away from the trails and trailers, and while close to the interstate, the bank was so deep that unless someone stopped to piss I'd likely not been noticed. Had he known? Did he mean to let me live? I sobbed, reaching down again, as i touched it. "My" stick. He'd left it in me, or shoved it in again. When I'd tried to sit up, I'd leaned on it and jabbed myself. I started to pull it out and the pain just overwhelmed me and I lay on my side, wracked with sobs.
Why hadn't he killed me? I was supposed to have died. I knew it. It wasn't fair. To go through all that and live. I should have hated him, but it myself I hated more at the moment in my pain. Trying again, I grabbed and slowly pulled it out, shaking violently in the cold wetness. Wetness? Fuck was I still bleeding? I quickly felt around, the bush and darkness making it hard, but no, I wasn't gushing blood. I felt the two long scars on my stomach. I swear he had gutted me but they were long, but not deep. They burned and felt swollen, but seemed to have mostly stopped bleeding. I thought about my nipple and decided against even touching it as i reached down and felt my pussy. It was swollen and was a mess, blood, both wet and dried, all on my lips. I cried for a minute, then slowly dragged myself, inch by inch out of the bush, finally collapsing in the muddy edge of the small creek. Sometime after he had "killed" me, it had rained for a short bit, that was the wet, or at least most of it. It was still dark outside, I could tell that as i stared up at the sky. My face ached, I could tell now my lip was busted bad, nose was swollen too. Nothing felt broken there. But any quick head movement made me want to throw up and things kept moving even when I think I wasn't. I laid there for probably ten minutes in the dark, half hoping he'd come back and pounce on me like a cat torturing a bird. Except hopefully he would end the pain.
But he didn't, he wasn't there. All there was, was just what was left of me.
I glanced slowly around as cars drove by above me, but I saw no trace of him, nor of any of my clothing. My backpack, clothes, even my socks and shoes were gone. I sobbed again and tried to sit up, my crotch and ass hurting so bad I would have believed they were literally on fire. It probably took me another ten minutes to move and crawl to a rock to help get up on my feet.
I puked hard then, and almost fell down again. Everything wouldn't stop spinning and I tried to focus on something. And there it was, in the flashes of light, as the cars passed by, was the stick. I could see the red. I could only imagine what it had did to me. A stronger person would have broke it or spit at it.
I just couldn't understand why I was alive.
Finally I started back towards my trailer, the ground should have hurt my feet, and probably did, but I was too far gone to notice. The act of walking was pain enough and I was in such a dark place, pretty much anything I did was just a cruel reminder that I was still alive. Still drawing breath. I don't know if it took me 5 minutes or 50 to get back to the trailer. I just know I started walking and at some point realized I was in what little of a back yard we have. No one had seen me, at least as far as I knew. If they had, they'd avoided the naked bloody girl. I slumped at the back door and struggled to open it. No matter what I tried, the door knob wouldn't work. I was just crying there, trying to work it (It was simply locked and in my shape, didn't even realize that A) it was locked and B) I no longer had the key), when suddenly the door opened and nearly knocked me flat.
"Where the fuck have......" Teddy stammered, seeing the nearly dead thing before him. He grabbed me and pulled me in quickly. Don't think it's because he had to help - he was a dealer and simply didn't want attention.
I vaguely heard my mom scream drunkenly and Teddy grabbed me, shaking my shoulders, asking me what happened. But I just let go again, and fell back into the black.
