I saw him in the mirror first. He stood across the room looking at the back of my head and my long hair. I worried for a moment that he might make me cut it. My father would flip out, he loved my long hair. But, then Edward stepped forward and stroked my locks. "You have lovely hair, its your best feature." Suddenly his hand was on my throat cutting off all my air. "Don't struggle, you're mine." I fought the urge to fight for air, trying so desperately to be still as my lungs screamed for air. Darkness closed in on me. My hands clenched to fists and he slapped me. I forced my hands to relax and sat limp as the blackness washed over me. Just before I lost consciousness he let my neck go and I choked and sputtered. Again and again he drove me to the edge of nothing. Forcing me to be passive and accepting of his torture. My life was his to do with as he pleased.
