Sisterhood (part 1)

It got harder and harder as he pushed it in deeper and deeper. I bit down on the cloth in my mouth. Tears and sweat running down my face mixed with the blood and spit coming out my mouth. The ropes binding my wrists dug into my skin. I could feel each individual strand cutting into my skin. My fingernails, broken and bleeding still scratched at the wooden floorboards still trying to resist. Painful erruptions relnetlessly mimicked his endless movements inside me. Ignoring my muffled screaming he kept on forcing himself on me, as if he truly enjoyed hearing me scream, watching me bleed. His fingernails dug into my skin, as he pushed even harder. Each time it went in I felt like I was slowly burning. As each push became harder and harder my heart beat faster and faster, pounding on my ribcage like a frightened bird fluttering around it's cage trying to escape.
He said nothing. He silently enjoyed my pain and humiliation as it shamefully dripped out of each opening.
Undoing the ropes on my wrists and ankles he left the door wide open. Why didn't I run? I was too scared. Cowardice had overtaken the resistance. You hear stories of women who manage to overcome their captors, they must be superhuman.
I don't know how long I lay there, in a small puddle of blood and sweat crying softly. Trying not to listen to the screams of the girl in the other room. But I couldn't help it. I hoped he'd stay there all night, I hoped her pain staisfied him more because I couldn't take anymore.
It shouldn't have been me anyways. It should have been her. I hope she wakes up at night thinking of me.
That's right Alissa, you wake up every night thinking of your sweet sister. I hope you hear my screams and see my face everywhere you turn. Because I see your face all the time. I see your cold empty grey eyes looking down at me while he broke into me. I hear your worried voice asking him not to "hurt her too much she's only sixteen she doesn't know anything". You should have known better than to lean on me. But I should have known better than to blindly trust you. It was your problem and now it's mine. I pay the pice for the mistakes you made.
Dad sits at home thinking I'm the slut, I'm the whore. How ironic.
But my mind suddenly became blank as her screams suddenly stopped. No it was too soon I wasn't ready.
Pushing myself up slowly, my body was stinging and throbbing with pain.
"Ahhh, owww, ahhh," I sobbed as I fell over. I tried to get up again, twice but my knees kept buckling and I was becoming more and more sore. Hearing his cold laughter behind me I gave up trying to get to my feet and began to crawl towards the back door.
"I-I-I d-d-don't want t-t-to do this a-anymore," my voice was barely a whisper but he managed to hear me.
"No?" he asked in that cold mocking tone.
I just shook my head, throat dry, as he came closer....