The Case Manager

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by Latoya Chandler


  “Damn, this sure is some sweet stuff. I think I am going to live up in here,” he moaned, pumping harder and harder.

  He’s hurting me. My insides are being torn apart. I can feel them ripping. God, please make him stop. He is hurting me.

  “Just hurry up before Nancy hears us,” another male’s voice interjected.

  Oh, my God, where did he come from? There’s two of them. Please, Heavenly Father, help me.

  “Don’t rush me. Her mouth is empty. Make use of it.”

  “Great idea,” the second masked man’s voice spoke, moving closer to me prior to slapping my lips with his smelly pink penis. “Open wide, and he better not feel any teeth, or that’s your ass, literally,” the one inside of me warned.

  As tears spilled down my cheeks, the two masked men mutilated my body. One was angrily raping my face while the other plundered my insides.

  I didn’t recall how long the violation lasted. I believed I passed out in the middle of it. As I sat up in the bed, I saw that I had been bleeding, and I became hysterical as panic consumed me. “No, please, no! What have they done to me? Oh, my God, someone please help me.”

  “No, no, no, please don’t do that,” Nakita advised, rushing to my bedside.

  “You don’t understand. Two men—”

  Using her hand to muffle my words, she spoke through remorseful tears, “I am so sorry, Candice. I was going to talk to you about that after breakfast.”

  “What do you mean you were going to talk to me about it after breakfast? That’s three hours from now. Get away from me. Did you do this to me?”

  “Of course not. It’s just something that sort of happens.”

  “No, I was raped. That is not something that just sort of happens. We need to call the police and tell Ms. Nancy. Oh, no, maybe she’s a part of it.” I lowered my tone.

  “I know this is hard, and I am sorry it happened to you, but we do have it good here. I don’t know about you, but I have no other place to go. The last thing I want is to be homeless and in the streets with a newborn. I am not saying I like what they do to me. I’ve just learned to deal with it, because honestly, this place is so much better than my former home. Besides, nothing good has ever happened to or for me. I pretty much expect nothing but the worst at this point.”

  “Well, I am sorry, but I cannot just deal with it. I don’t care how good it is here. How can you think it’s so good here when you are being forced to have sex? Not to mention we’re pregnant and they’re not the fathers of our babies. That is sick.”

  “I am not okay with it at all. I hate it. God knows I do. If I could kill them, I would, trust me. But right now what other choice do I have? My parents were crackheads. They forgot I even existed. They traded me for drugs, and for years I was a dealer’s punching bag and sex toy after he took me in. Well, he beat me as if I owed him something, and the last whoopin’ landed me in the ER. I woke up still pregnant and in the hospital. Now I am here,” she disclosed, wiping pain from her eyes.

  “That’s awful. I am so sorry.”

  “It is, but on the brighter side, I’m alive, and I have a chance to make things right. I will be able to give my baby something I’ve never had: love.”

  “I don’t understand how you think you have a chance to make things right when you’re being forced to have sex with men. They hurt me bad. I woke up in blood. I think they killed my baby. There’s no way I’m going to allow them to get away with what they’ve done to me and my baby.”

  Pulling the covers back and shaking her head, she replied, “You’re spotting from the rough sex. In fact, that isn’t a lot of blood. Trust me, you would know if you miscarried.”

  “Rough rape. That was not sex.”

  “Look, you better stop saying that word and try your best to suck it up, unless you can call your family to come and get you today. There was a girl before you who cried to Ms. Nancy, and it didn’t end well for her.”

  “Okay, you’re really scaring me now. What does that mean? It didn’t end well for her how?”

  “Lori was her name. She woke up scared and hysterical just like you are right now. But she didn’t just scream when she woke up the next morning. She ran downstairs straight into Ms. Nancy’s room, crying and screaming that two masked men raped her, and a week later she was found dead in her bedroom.”

  “Dead? They killed her? Why didn’t Ms. Nancy do anything? Is she in on it or something?”

  “No. Ms. Nancy has no idea what’s going on. At least I don’t think she does. She had the police come to take a report, but they didn’t find anything. Because Lori’s window was open, they assumed the men came in and left through the window. It was chaotic around here after that. Police officers were in and out of here for a week straight. We all had to eat, sleep, and shower in Ms. Nancy’s section of the facility.

  “That was a mess, four pregnant, scared, hormonal women in one room together for most of the day and overnight. Anyway, after the week long ‘sleepover,’ we were all permitted to return to our rooms to try to go back to the way things were before. However, the very next day, when Ms. Nancy went to wake Lori, she found her dead.”

  “How? What happened to her?’

  “That’s still a mystery to me. All I know is she passed in her sleep, and they found an empty bottle of Ms. Nancy’s pain meds in her hand.”

  “So she killed herself. Why is that a mystery?”

  “Yes, it was ruled a suicide once they found the meds in her system. I personally believe it was a warning to the rest of us.”

  “This is insane. Where in the world did my parents express ship me off to? What happened to her baby? Did she really lose it during the ra—”

  “I am not sure. I know she was in her first trimester when she arrived, so I am going to assume the baby didn’t make it either. I try not to ask too many questions. The less I know, the less I have to be accountable for.”

  “What kind of place is this?”

  “If you play your cards right and follow my lead, it won’t be as bad as you think it is. Unless, like I said before, you can call your parents right now and they will come and get you today.”

  “They want nothing to do with me.” I broke down.

  “I figured that much. Let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in us. Enough of the sad talk, all right? Trust me, you will be fine. I promise.”

  “I doubt it, but if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

  “I just turned seventeen actually.”

  “You seem so much older. Wow.”

  “I’ve been through hell and back, and I’ve learned a lot to and from there.”

  Chapter Four

  The Voices: You Hurt Me

  Candice

  It had been about a month since those men pillaged my body. I had been hiding under my bed in fear of it happening again. However, my nook was getting too small, or I was becoming too big. Either way, I couldn’t fit under there any longer, and I was scared to death to sleep on top of the bed. For three weeks straight they would come into my room looking for me, but they failed to search underneath the bed. They never uttered a word, just a few grunts before exiting. On many occasions since that awful evening, I had tried to give Ms. Nancy hints, and she was either protecting them or was really clueless.

  For instance, the morning after my rape, during breakfast, I was very quiet and a little on edge. I tried to act normal, but it was impossible as I shifted nervously back and forth in my chair. I kept my hands in my lap, and they had a mind of their own, intertwining with one another repeatedly. I was watching the room corner to corner as if I were waiting for something, or someone, in hopes that Ms. Nancy would take notice. To my surprise, she did.

  “Candice, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I know this is different and new to you, but you’re safe here.”

  “Safe?” I snarled, cutting my sentence short as Nakita’s eyes pierced through me.

  “Yes, safe. It is all right to let your guard do
wn.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Nancy. I had an awful dream last night, and it felt so real that it has me a little jumpy.”

  “Would you like to talk about it? I’ve learned that sharing things and getting them off your chest is a stress reliever, and I am pretty good with interpreting dreams.”

  “It’s pretty sick, but I will share,” I muttered as tears seized my face. “I had a dream that two masked men came into my room last night and they took turns raping me until I passed out.”

  “That is horrifying, and it explains your demeanor this morning,” she consoled, placing her hands on mine. “I can assure you, you are not the first to come down for breakfast the morning after having a similar dream. What that dream indicates is vengeful feelings toward the opposite sex. You are feeling violated in some way, or possibly it’s from being taken advantage of. Being sent here away from your family, friends, and everyday life can cause such feelings and dreams.”

  “Yeah, a couple of us had the same experience when we first arrived. But you will get through it. Ms. Nancy is a great case manager and counselor. She will help you through it,” Nakita pitched in with a look of annoyance painted across her dark-hued face.

  “We will get through this together, Candice. I am here to help you. You are not in this alone, no matter how you may feel,” Ms. Nancy said supportively. Her words were so soothing that they convinced me to accept the possibility that I may have been hallucinating. That was, until I got up to move. My inner thighs were sore, and my vaginal walls felt as if they’d been lacerated.

  That thought and feeling quickly subsided as we began to eat breakfast and were joined by two guests.

  “Good morning, girls,” one of the voices greeted us.

  “Good morning, Anthony,” Ms. Nancy welcomed him. “This is our newest daughter, Candice. Candice, these are my brothers, Anthony and Paul. Well, in the community Paul’s known as Officer McGivney.”

  I was unable to speak, petrified, and stuck in place as if I were cemented to the chocolate brown leather dining chair. Officer? He’s a police officer? My heart rate increased as urine escaped my bladder into and through my urethra. Without notice, it flowed from me and saturated the seat of my pants. I may not have seen the faces of the men who tormented my body, but I remembered their voices. They sat at the table as if nothing happened.

  Staring straight into my brown eyes with a smirk pinned on his face, one of them introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Candice. I am Anthony, as my sis indicated. If you need anything moved around in your room or a lift somewhere, we are here to help you gals out.”

  “You—”

  “Hey guys, Candice is a little shy and a little nervous with this being her first official day here. I’m going to show her around town and help her get adjusted,” Nakita intercepted, assisting me to my feet before pulling me from the chair and out of the dining area as if I were a child being chastised by her parent.

  Now facing Nakita, I couldn’t control the stampede of tears any longer. Once the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. I bent forward where Nakita stood, laid my head on her chest, and wept silently.

  Surrendering herself to the beat of her feet against the oak wood floors, paired with a haunted expression painted across her face, Ms. Nancy inquired, “Is she all right? She urinated on herself. Maybe she should sleep in my room, or yours tonight, Nakita? This is a huge transition, and we don’t want her so upset that she distresses that little bundle of joy of hers.”

  With my head still buried in Nakita’s chest, I whispered, “I’d like that, Nakita.”

  Tears of remorse started in her eyes as she agreed through trembling lips, “We can have as many slumber parties as you need in my room in order for you to get yourself together, Candice.”

  * * *

  Nakita’s bedroom was pretty much identical to mine. Instead of pink bedding, hers was purple, and I loved it just as much as my own. The fear that I felt in my room traveled with me into her room. I have to find a way to get out of here. A police officer raped me. Nakita must be afraid. Oh, my God, they killed that girl and covered it up because he’s a cop. I have to get out of here. I am not staying in this place.

  “Candice, you’re safe in here,” Nakita interrupted my thoughts.

  “I remember their voices. Why didn’t you say he was a police officer?”

  “I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to give you a heart attack.”

  “Too late. I am calling my dad to see if I can come back home. I refuse to stay in this place. Nothing can be worse than this place. Not even Mother at this point.”

  We agreed to finish talking about everything in the morning and to try to have a good night’s sleep. I, on the other hand, had no intention of going to sleep. I was calling my dad, which I did after I felt everyone was asleep. I slipped into the hall, scared to death, but my determination gave me the courage I needed to call my dad. My heart gleamed when he answered on the first ring. He was at work of course, which meant I had to make it quick. Quick enough for him to sever my heart. I cried and begged for him to come and get me. However, he swallowed the poison Mother shoved down his throat already. Dad now agreed this was the best place for me. As I proceeded to inform him what those monsters did to me, my words lodged themselves in my throat, and he disconnected the call. Panic and fear devoured me whole when my eyes landed on Paul and Anthony, who were staring at me. Before they could get any closer to me, I heard Nakita shout my name.

  Thank God Nakita came out of the room when she did. If she didn’t, only God knows what they would have done to me. She said we would try to come up with a plan to make things better. I agreed and did the best I could to stay as close to her as I could.

  Being with her, things seemed to be better. I almost never saw Paul or Anthony, which made me feel safer being around and with Nakita. The only problem was we were getting on one another’s nerves after a week-long slumber party. Well, I thought I was getting on her nerves, because I had no problem with the arrangement whatsoever. She blamed it on her hormones, but I could tell she was used to her own space. As for me, I wouldn’t have minded packing up my bedroom and moving it in there with her. I’d spent the majority of my youth alone, without any siblings or girl time, so all of this was exciting to me.

  Chapter Five

  Scared Emotions: Lonely Heart

  Nakita

  Where do I begin? Unlike the “beauties” in my family, my nose was wider. My lips were fuller. And my skin was darker. Much darker. Let’s not forget the favorite saying that had been tattooed in my mind from infancy, if I am not mistaken: “She’s pretty for a dark-skinned girl.” What did that even mean? I had yet to find out. I was born Nakita Mathews but didn’t come into this world alone. I was accompanied by my light-skinned and much prettier twin sister, Shakita.

  My life didn’t start off bad as far as I can remember. I believe I was 10 years of age when it all changed. Mom and Dad both worked to try to make ends meet. However, they always fell short. It became burdensome for the two of them, my dad primarily. He felt that as the man of the house it was his responsibility to provide. It didn’t matter what Mom brought home, even up until she was laid off. All the heatless nights and days without eating so that we had a meal took a toll on my dad. He’d call to make sure my mom was good with feeding us and herself, as well as having enough candles during the months without electricity. However, he’d spend those phone-in nights away from home. That caused a strain on their marriage and turned Mom into someone I wasn’t familiar with. Even though Shakita and I were twins, she favored Mom from her complexion to her facial features, and I was my dad’s twin. That culminated in the verbal and physical abuse that I endured from my mother. She took her good and bad days out on me.

  Mom religiously expressed to Shakita how beautiful she was and how much she favored her when she was our age. As for me, well, it went a little something like this: “Nakita, you sure is ugly.” Ever since we watched The Color Purple,
I’d become Miss Celie. Literally. I had to do all the cooking and the cleaning while Shakita played and enjoyed her youth. She’d feel sorry for me and try to lend a hand to help me, which didn’t go so well with Mom.

  “Kita, get your lazy ass in here,” she slurred.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She pulled back her arm over her head, inhaled deeply, swung out forward with a force fueled by fury, and struck me across my face. Her hand landed with a thud on my left cheek and mouth. It sent a rippling effect throughout my body, causing me to squeal in agony as blood trickled down from my bottom lip.

  “Your black ass need to stop being so damn lazy. I better not hear another sound out of you. Now get in that bathroom and scrub it from top to bottom.”

  Walking to the restroom, I could see and feel Shakita crying. We were twins and could feel one another’s pain. I thought Mom wasn’t telling the truth when she mentioned the time that we got our ears pierced. I went first, and as they pierced each ear, Shakita let out a yelp as if it was her turn. Mom said I did the same when Shakita was on the piercing table. When we turned eleven, I was able to experience our twin telepathy. I was in pain with bad cramps. Come to find out Shakita was starting her menstrual cycle and she had no signs or pains. Only I did, and mine didn’t come until a few months after hers.

  “I’m sorry, Kita,” my twin consoled me, entering the bathroom as I finished cleaning it.

  “It’s okay. Mom is just having a rough time dealing with Dad not being around as much.”

  “But it’s not fair. She always hits and picks on you and calls you names.”

  “I know, but she doesn’t do it all the time. I just hope Dad comes back home more so she can be nice like she is when he’s around.”

  The more my dad stayed away from home, the more Mom turned to her newfound white friend. It just so happened to be packed inside of a portable container. Instead of a body, it had a neck and a mouth made of glass. Mom’s clear liquid companion had it out for me. In conjunction with the time they spent together, she elevated the verbal hammering and pounding that she put on me. You’d think Shakita was being beat along with me the way she’d scream for dear life from each of the blows that I took. We couldn’t understand why Mom hated me so much. Shakita and I knew our thoughts were wrong and Mom was possibly hitting me out of love. We were proven wrong on our thirteenth birthday.

 

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