Author's note: I'm so excited that now twenty-three of you are now reading my story. I hope you are all enjoying it. Please comment and vote, so I know if you like it. Please tell me your honest opinion as it's the only thing I have to get better as a writer.

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Jimmy's alarm clock went off early in the morning. He reached over me to turn it off; rolling my body over into the mattress. I rolled back with him. I rubbed the heel of my palms of my hands into my eyes to help me wake up.The same grey T-shirt as the other night was still covering me.

He got out of the bed and dragged his feet over to the bathroom. He stretched his arms up over his head and I watched the muscles in his back move. My stomach twisted, I needed to see what he did to me last night.

I sat up and rolled up the shirt to look at my stomach and legs. I wanted to see if there was any kind of injury. My stomach had light bruises from the night Charles took me, but there wasn't anything new. All the cuts on my arms were beginning to scab.

When I heard the bathroom door open my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I threw the shirt back down over me before he could see any of my skin. I showed my body to men as my job, but this was different. Those men at least paid. I'm not going to let him see anything. He did though if he's the one that put me in this shirt. He's most likely touched me in other ways too, but I'm not going to willingly show him my body.

I got up and went to the bathroom. My head spun with the first couple of steps. When I closed the door behind me I quickly locked it. I sat down on the floor with my back against the bathtub. I curled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them; rocking my body back and forth.

My eyes squeezed together tightly. A couple of tears trickled down my cheek and my body wanted to break out into sobs. I couldn't do it though. Jimmy was in the bedroom and I could hear him moving around. If I could hear him then that meant that he could hear me. I pushed my forehead into my knees.

I can't be here for much longer. People must be looking for me. Lina must be scared that I have never come home and gone to the police. I didn't have a boyfriend, so they would know I haven't run away to elope or something like that. She knows I walk home late at night. I feel like an idiot for doing that now. If I took a bus instead, I wouldn't be here.

A knock came at the door and I'm glad I locked it. This is the only spot where I got space. I should lock myself in here and wait for someone to find me. I'd die of starvation before someone would find me. Plus it's a simple wooden door, they could easily break it down.

"Juliet, you alright?" Jimmy asked me.

My throat felt swollen. I took in a couple deep breaths.

"Yeah," I said.

"Okay. When you're done get changed and come downstairs," he ordered me.

"Alright," I said.

I'm not sure if I said it loud enough for him to hear me. I could hear Jimmy walking down the stairs. He must have heard me.

I got up off of the floor and looked into the mirror. My eyes were red and my dark hair stuck to my face. My skin looked so pale, even paler then it normally looked. If I can never go outside, my skin will only get paler and paler. It made the gash on my head stand out even more.

I brushed my hair quickly. I wished I had some kind of make-up so that I could hide my red eyes. If Jimmy, Charles, or Tommy thought I was crying they would think that I'm weaker than I already am. I was told that people like this prey on weakness. It makes them stronger. It encourages them.

When I went back into the bedroom, the bed was still unmade. A pile of clothes sat on my pillow. I put on the jeans; they had a massive tear in the left knee. I pulled on the black shirt; the sleeves ran past my fingertips.

As I went down the stairs I could hear Jimmy and Tommy talking together. I couldn't make out any words. It only sounded like murmurs.

They were sitting at the kitchen table. Tommy was eating out of the bowl in front of him and Jimmy was sitting in a chair. Jimmy's arms were folded under his chest and his eyes locked on me as I was down the stairs. I cautiously walked over to the table.

A bowl of oatmeal sat in my spot, so I sat down and began eating it. I haven't eaten much since I got here. I kept my eyes down on my bowl. I didn't want to look at either one of them.

Neither of them spoke, but both of their eyes were focused on me.

"You're very shy, Juliet," Tommy told me. "You seem so timid. Like every step you take terrifies you."

I took another spoonful of oatmeal. It's easy to see I'm scared. I knew that. It was just that his words acted as reassurance and made me feel even weaker. I kept my eyes down on my bowl. Providing his statement with more evidence.

"Don't give her a hard time," Jimmy told him.

"Jim, I'm just pointing out the obvious," he said wryly.

"It's different for her. Anyone would be nervous."

Tommy's spoon clanged against the bowl as he dropped it. He put his elbows down on the table and smirked at me. I was no longer hungry.

"That's true," he said. "I guess anyone would be nervous with the killing. I bet Dad's made you rape her."

His gaze shifted to Jimmy, but the smirk was still across his lips. Jimmy let his arms unfold and rubbed his hands against his jeans.

"Yeah," Jimmy mumbled under his breath. He didn't want to admit what he was doing to me. My stomach twisted tightly. Now I know for sure what he's doing to me when he drugs me.

"Does she know about the me-?" Tommy started to ask; the smirk still on his lips.

"Stop it, Tommy!" Jimmy barked at him.

His voice sounded just like Charles and it made me flinch. Tommy leaned back into his chair and pressed his lips into a line. Jimmy was trying to protect me from him. Or was it about the truth inside this house?

"Why? Why can't she know?" he asked crossing his arms.

"Because I don't want her to know," he said nervously.

"She'll know eventually."

"I don't care. She's not ready to hear about this. It isn't your choice to tell her. It's mine."

"What? Are you saying that I can't say it out loud?"

Say what? I wanted to scream out at the top of my lungs. I bit on my bottom lip to stop myself. He was willing to tell me he was a murderer, so whatever he's keeping from me must be much worse. What could be worse than killing people? I'm glad he wasn't telling me. I'd probably have some kind of mental break down if he told me. I'm surprised I haven't had one already.

"Tommy it's not your decision. When you get your girl you can do what you want. Okay? Now go out and start helping Dad," Jimmy told him. Tommy rolled his eyes and got up out of his chair.

"You may be able to tell her what to do, but don't think that you can order me around," he told him. Then he stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. Jimmy ran his hand through his long hair and shook his head. I sat in my chair awkwardly.

"He can be so juvenile," he said.

He got up out of his chair and brought Tommy and I's bowls over to the sink. I got up and followed him. For some reason I didn't want to be left alone at the table.

My body froze as he pressed his lips against mine. He ran his hands up my back as he pulled me closer. I still tried pushing him away, even though I know it will do no good. When he was done he kissed my forehead.

"I've got to go," he said. He managed to pull me even closer into his body, so that I couldn't move my arms anymore. He pressed his lips against my cheek. When his grip around me loosened up I quickly wiggled away and he went outside.

I watched him leave and then turned to wash the dishes from breakfast. My throat tightened. Jimmy did rape me. I could no longer lie to myself and say that he didn’t. I shouldn't seem shocked. They're murderers and kidnappers, so why couldn't they be rapists?

The drugs they gave me weren't for me to sleep. It was for me to be quiet so that I wouldn't scream or try to fight against them. It was so that I wouldn't cry all night and so that I wouldn't remember anything.

I scrubbed one of the bowl roughly. I couldn't get the food from sticking to the inside. My fingers were already starting to prune. Why couldn't they have a dishwasher like every other house in America?

When I was done I opened up every cupboard door. I dried one dish and then would search for where it should go. Plates and bowls went to the right of the sink. Cups went to the left and the cutlery went in the drawer under the counter.

After I went to the closet with all of the cleaning supplies. I took out the broom and quickly swept the house. Then I took out a rag and polish and began to clean everything wood in the house. Which was pretty much most of the house.

I picked up the photo of Jimmy and Tommy again. They looked so innocent and cute. If I didn't now them then I definitely wouldn't have guessed that those were the eyes and smiles of monsters.

Charles or Jimmy's mother must have taken the photo. His mother? I've never thought about her before. She must have died or ran away. My bet's on died.

How did it happen? Did Charles just get so angry at her one day that he killed her, just like he killed that girl? Or maybe she committed suicide. She would have had to been kidnapped like me. So maybe it was too much and she decided to take her own life.

She was kidnapped like me. The thought made my stomach flip. She was just like me and she died in this house. She was always having children and was being raped because of it.

That's not going to be me. I'm going to somehow get out of this house. I will not raise children in this hellhole. I won't spend the rest of my life here.