He started to carve the flesh of my cheeks to make my cheek bones pop. As he was doing this, he had a stupid grin the entire time. After he did my cheeks, he moved to my stomach.

"Hm, do I want to make you look anorexic?" he asked himself. I shook my head and sobbed.

"Alright, since I love you so much," he said. I sighed in relief as he got off of me. The relief didn't last for long, though, as he grabbed my wrist and brought me to the restroom.

I looked in the mirror with disgust. My cheeks were thinner, though the blood covered most of my face. My nose looked a little smaller and my arms looked thinner. I was confused on what he was going to carve on my stomach, though, as my ribs were already visible. My thighs remained the same and so did my butt and breast. I cringed as I realized he only kept the last three for his sexual desires.

He came up behind me, hugging my waist. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent. I started to shake. He started to kiss my neck, and then he licked from the bottom of my jaw to my eye. I whimpered as his tongue went over the exposed bloody flesh.

"Time to clean up your wounds," he said cheerfully. I tried to resist as he pushed me down on a chair. He started to hum Mary Had a Little Lamb again as he got a damp paper towel and cleaned up the blood. He then got a cotton ball and poured rubbing alcohol on it.

"Don't you dare put that fucking stuff on me!" I shouted, pushing him away. His smile turned into frown. I cowered into the chair, shaking like a leaf. He walked closer to me.

"I know that you did not just cuss. Oh, and then push me. I haven't even tied you up yet. That could change," he said. But apparently he wasn't done, "Is this how you repay me?! Huh?! By being a fucking ungrateful bitch?! You better start respecting me! And call me sir! You understand bitch?!"

I started to sob as I nodded. "I can't hear you!" he growled. I jumped at his tone. He slammed his hand down on the counter.

"Yes."

"Yes what?!"

"Yes, sir," I whimpered. His whole mood suddenly changed. He was smiling again, like nothing had ever happened. I cried out in pain as he applied the rubbing alcohol to the bloody and raw flesh. I would let out occasional cries as he finished up cleaning the wounds.

"You know I don't like to yell at you, right, baby?" he said. I nodded in fear of being yelled at again. Or worse.

"You just need to respect me, especially because I'm your boyfriend," he cooed. I cringed. He wasn't my boyfriend. And he never would be. He would need to get that inside of his sick fucking head.

He straddled me for the third time today. "I can't wait to have kids with you," he mumbled, kissing my neck again. I tried not to push him away, scared that I would make him mad. He slowly kissed his way up to my mouth, kissing me. I kissed back, remembering the incidents from earlier. I felt his tongue licking my bottom lip. I kept my mouth closed until he squeezed my thigh roughly. I gasped out in pain and he shoved his tongue through. My only option was to continued kissing him. I could bite his tongue, but I would definitely get beat.

He pulled away from me, panting. "I love you so much, Daisy," he said. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you, but I know you aren't ready yet. So I will wait for you, my love." He started to kiss me again, moaning.

"The others weren't as good as you. Evelyn was nice, but otherwise she was ugly," he said in between kisses. I froze and he pulled away, confused. "Babe what's wrong?"

"You killed Evelyn?" I asked through gritted teeth. He could kiss me, rape me, kill me, but to admit to killing my best friend made my blood boil. He chuckled and held onto me but I pushed him off.

"Get the fuck away from me, freak!" I screamed. He looked hurt and mad. "You killed her, you motherfucker! She was my best friend!" My stomach turned and I felt sick. To think that my best friend had to go through the same fear and terror I was. To be cut because you weren't "perfect". She was probably raped and beat. And then he killed her because she wasn't good enough.

I started to gag, putting a hand on the counter to steady myself. I felt like I was going to throw up. I heard Peter sigh and walk towards me. "No, get away," I said, my words feeling slurred. I started to gag again. I leaned over and held onto my stomach, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

"I didn't want to have to do this," he said, pulling something out of his pocket. He stuck it into my neck. At first I felt nothing, and then I started to feel drowsy. I stumbled towards him, extending my hands out.

"What the fuck did you do to me?!" I asked, falling on top of him. He chuckled and caught me, holding me closely.

"It's just some sedation to make you calm and sleepy," he said. I tried to say something but my words were coming out slurred. He laughed and picked me up, walking into a room. The last thing I remembered was laying on a bed. And then I fell asleep.