MY HUSBAND GOT ME DRUNK ON MY WEDDING NIGHT JUST FOR HIS ENTIRE FAMILY TO HAVE A TEST OF ME
Episode 2: The Morning After
I woke up with a pounding headache, my tongue dry, my limbs sore. The luxurious sheets that once symbolized love now felt like a prison of silk. I turned my head slowly and saw Michael beside me, peacefully asleep, as if last night had been just another romantic evening.
But something inside me screamed otherwise.
My body felt violated, unfamiliar. There was a sharp ache between my legs—a pain I couldn’t explain. My heart began to race, my breath catching in my throat. I sat up slowly, confusion clashing with fear in my chest.
Fragments of the night before came in flashes—Michael pouring the wine, his eyes darker than I remembered… my blurry vision… his warm smile melting into something sinister… his hand guiding me down onto the bed.
Then—nothing.
Just a thick black silence.
I swung my feet off the bed and nearly collapsed. My knees were trembling, weak. I wrapped the bedsheet around me and tiptoed to the bathroom. Turning on the light, I stared into the mirror.
What I saw broke me.
My eyes were bloodshot, my lips bruised. Red marks trailed down my neck and collarbone. My hair was tangled. My nightgown was lying in a heap on the floor, torn slightly at the hem.
>>>written by Jed The Creator
Tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t recognize the woman staring back.
Who was she? And what had been done to her?
Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.
“Clara?” Michael's voice was gentle, too gentle. “Are you okay in there?”
I quickly wiped my tears. “Yes… I’m fine.”
But even I didn’t believe the words. They tasted like poison on my tongue.
When I came out, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling like the perfect husband.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, patting the spot beside him.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab something—anything—and hit him until he told me what had happened. But I didn’t. I nodded and forced a smile.
Later that day, his family came over to the mansion. His father. His two brothers. His uncle.
They greeted me with hugs and lingering glances that made my skin crawl. I sat through the dinner, my heart thudding in my chest with every bite I pretended to chew. The way they smiled at me—it wasn’t warm. It was cold. Knowing. Possessive.
They knew something I didn’t.
That night, I sat alone in the bedroom, trying to calm my thoughts. Michael was taking a shower, humming to himself like everything was normal.
Then I saw it.
Peeking out from under the bed.
A white cloth—stained with blood.
I froze.
My hands trembled as I bent down and picked it up. The stain was fresh. Heavy. Real.
And it hit me.
It wasn’t just Michael.
Someone—some people—had done something to me.
I dropped the cloth like it burned me and backed away, my breaths coming in short gasps.
I curled into a corner, wrapped myself in a blanket, and cried until my throat was raw.
What kind of marriage had I walked into?
Who was the man I married?
And why… why did his entire family look at me like I was prey?
I didn’t know what the truth was yet, but one thing was clear—
Last night wasn’t love.
It was a ritual.
And I was the offering.
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To be continued in Episode 3…
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