You Loved Me At My Weakest

By: Evie Harper
(You Loved Me #2)


This is for a woman I know who lost so much. Who fell down but kept getting back up. She fought through her pain for her family that still remained. When I think of strength, I think of her. I dedicate Emily’s story of survival through the impossible to you, Donna.


1st Man – Petrified, I’m cowering against a wall in the corner of a tiny room. The room is bare. The only furniture is a bed pushed up against a white wall.

The vile smelling man hovers over me, and spits out, “You think you’re so beautiful, don’t you?” He is red faced, anger vibrating from every pore of his body. “You women are all the same, thinking you're better than me.”

“Please,” I beg, “I just want to go home.” Tears cascade down my face. Fear and torment squeeze at my heart.


My face slams into the wall from his slap and I taste metallic.

The man grabs both my shoulders. My skin slices open from his fingernails digging into my shoulders. He throws me to the bed, I bounce and my hair whips me in the face. The man starts yanking up my dress.

Using my legs and arms I push with all my strength, desperate to get his hands away. “Please don’t do this. I don’t even know you, please. I was kidnapped. I’m not meant to be here!” I end on a hysterical yell. My attempts to stop him are brushed aside, he doesn’t care

He rips off my underwear and I scream at the top of my lungs. I kick out with all my strength, but he pins my legs down and climbs on top. I’m punching him in the chest and the face as he unbuckles his pants and pulls himself through his zipper. Putting a condom on, he then stares down at me. I stop hitting, breathing heavily, waiting for his next move, to start my fight again.

“I’ll teach you for looking at me like I’m ugly, as if I’m not good enough for you.”

My eyes widen. I have no idea what any of his words mean. He’s insane.

He reaches for my wrists and I buck and twist my body. He takes hold of my wrists and pins them tightly together with one hand, squeezing them so hard I feel like he’s breaking my bones with my own. He has me. Pinned down at the legs and wrists. I’m trapped.

He reaches down with his hand not holding my wrists and enters himself inside of me.

I scream the only thing I want in this moment. The only person who has always kept me safe. The man who isn’t here to save me now.



12th Man - “Fuck, yes! I’m going to fuck you up the ass so fucking hard, you’re going to bleed.”

Standing in the room, sobbing, staring at the excited man standing in front of me, I beg him, “Kill me, please. Just slit my fucking throat!” I end in a scream.

He prowls toward me and says, “Well, well, look what we have here. You’re not quite broken, but you’re close.” He rubs his hands together and hisses, “Get on the bed, face down.”

I shake my head, tasting the salt from my tears as I bite my lip knowing what comes next. He strikes out and I run to the other side of the room before his hit can reach its mark. My face.

“Bitch! Get on the fucking bed!” he roars.

I look around the room wildly, searching for anything to pick up and protect myself with. I’ve done this so many times, now; I don’t know why I keep looking for a weapon I know isn’t in here.

I’m moving side to side as he approaches me. I have no idea what I’m doing or how long I can run for, but I’m not giving up.

He reaches for me again and I run to the other side of the room.

He turns and walks halfway to me. Then I see it; in his arms and legs, he tenses. He sprints toward me and I run around him, but his arm reaches out and catches my elbow. I’m pulled back with so much force; I’m brought to the ground with a hard hit to my head.

Instantly, he’s on top of me and begins ripping my dress off.


The shoulder straps are torn away.


The dress is yanked down my body. He doesn’t even bother with the zipper. The whole dress is wrenched away. He pulls my underwear off and I know what will happen now.

No matter how hard I fight or how much I beg, it always ends the same way.

My body tenses as I wait for the bugs to start crawling over my skin, and as it begins, I do the same thing I have always done. I call out to the man I’m still waiting to come and save me.

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