Sadie's Mountain
Page 2
He put his arms on the rock on either side of my face and smiled that new smile—the one where I’m his and he’s mine. His face just inches from mine. His proximity was heady, his body radiating warmth as the air seemed to chill all around us. He smelled so good, like his momma’s homemade soap and freshly laundered clothes—distinctly like him.
“I love you, Sadie,” he whispered.
I smiled back, mirroring his admiration. “And I love you, Dillon,” I responded.
He looked like he’d conquered the world. He was so amorous. So young. So perfect. The picture of him right then will never leave me. It’s as if I’ve painted it there in my mind with soft wet brushes.
I must have been wiggling during our first real kiss because it was then that I noticed the hem of my dress was hitched up above my hips still up against the rock. He looked down at my pale pink panties. I blushed but left the hem up—for him to look.
“You’re getting bit,” he said, as he innocently reached down to my back side to swat the offending pests assaulting my hips and thighs. His hand there, those long deft fingers traipsing in the forbidden zone sent a shiver up my spine. I knew right then that we’d gone too far.
Like Daddy said, “God writes your sins on the cross... He clothes you in His righteousness...Writes your name in His blessed book of life...you must keep yourself pure for God’s will to be done...” I know the look on my face changed. I was no longer smiling or giddy. I bit my thumbnail and I flinched away from him.
“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. His eyes were pained with remorse. He pulled my dress down and lifted his left arm to cover his guilty eyes. I wish I hadn’t, believe me I do—but right then I ducked away from him and ran from the safety of his hold.
I was so angry with him for making me feel all of this. That was...WOW! But what we did is wrong. It’s against God’s will. We have to be married before he can touch me, especially touch me there. But his hands felt so right, so perfect I can still feel him; everywhere he touched is tingling. I ran and he followed calling my name but I was faster or just too far away from him already.
I ducked under a low tree, and ran between two bushes. As I did so, I bumped into the shed at the edge of his property. I knew they didn’t lock it so I opened the door and ran inside shutting the door behind me. The last bit of evening sun was shining through the cracks between the wood slabs making slivers of dust particles in the air.
In that moment I was so glad I was alone. I leaned up against the bags of chicken feed stacked against the back wall to catch my breath. How did I feel? Was I really angry with Dillon? No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t angry at all. I was only scared because I’d felt emotions I didn’t know existed. Deep down I knew I wanted to kiss him like that. A smile beamed across my face making my cheeks hurt. I bit my thumbnail. I liked it—a lot.
I don’t think either of us expected to get so carried away. After all, when he’d touched my behind he was just swatting the mosquito, that’s all. He had already stopped himself from going too far. He’d pushed away from me by that point. Of course, I knew I could still trust him.
In the distance I could hear him calling me. “Sadie! Sadie! I’m sorry. Please. Come on, darlin’!”
His voice wasn’t so far away. If I’d walked out of the shed right then he might have even been within eyesight. I pushed away from the chicken feed and was within inches of grabbing the door handle when it creaked opened on its own. It was dim outside the shed but the silhouette standing in the doorway was not that of my beloved. This man was bigger, more threatening in his stance.
It was Donnie.
I could tell by his scent wafting through the gap between us it was him.
I bristled.
“Well, now, Sadie,” he said, his voice husky and determined.
He speaks.
He stepped forward and because there was nothing I could do to protect myself, it felt like years passed in the time it took for him to close the door behind him. He pulled a board across the door locking it and turned to face me, his eyes like a wild dog before a planned attack.
Chapter Two—The Shed
“Donnie, what are you doing?” I said in a thin, wobbly voice.
“I wanna talk,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper, his eyes twitchy, his mouth in a thin line. “I need to...,” he said, almost confused.
“Well, let’s just go outside and talk,” I tried.
“You’re just gonna run back ta’ him.”
“What do you want?” My voice became tougher than normal, like a little dog trying to bark deep.
“You...you’re,” he said, stumbling over his words, “supposed ta be with me,” he said, his voice cracking as he slapped his chest and started to walk toward me. “I don’t wanna hurt you. But I will if you don’t let me,” he said, in a soothing voice as if he was trying coax me.
“Let you what?” I said. But I knew what.
“You’ll be mine. You won’t never want him no more once I been with you like this,” he said, as he reached out to grab my arm.
“No,” I screamed as I jumped back. “Please, don’t do this...,” but before I could finish my plea for mercy, he leapt forward, his hand was covering my mouth and he had twisted my right arm around my back. He smelled like the fish he’d just been cleaning down by the river, so I held my breath.
I tried to push him away but it was like trying to move a boulder with a feather. It was then that I realized he had moved a sharp blade up to my neck. He pushed it in but not enough to cut me—just to scare me.
It worked.
“You ain’t gonna make me use this,” he cautioned.
I put my left arm down to my side and shook my head no so that he knew I’d be quiet. I felt like I was going to throw up but my fear kept everything down. I was so still.
He pushed me, slowly, until my back was against the bags of feed stacked near the wall.
“I saw you,” he said through gritted teeth. “My little brother prolly cain’t get it up. That why you ran, you little tease? What’chou need is a real man,” he said, as he stabbed my stomach with the sick arousal he had growing between his hips.
I shook my head no, violently, mindful to keep my neck still. My eyes were so wide, shocked tears sprang from them like drops of wax. Smiling, he grabbed my face with his hand, held it stationary.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered before he assaulted my mouth with his hard tongue. At the same time, his hand moved from where he was squeezing my face, over my right breast, and down the front of my stomach.
I tried to move my mouth away from him as I whimpered in disgust and squirmed so he stopped and pushed the blade in more. It pinched, I halted, and something trickled down my throat.
Is it sweat? Please, just be sweat!
“Look what you made me do,” he chastised before kissing me again even harder. This time I let him.
“Sadie! Darlin’, please come out!” I heard Dillon yell right next to me on the other side of the shed’s wood slabs. Donnie stopped his tongue assault by biting my bottom lip in warning, putting his fishy hand over my mouth. He pushed the knife. “I’ll do it,” he promised in a portentous whisper with his mouth right up to my ear.
We both listened. I wanted to cry out but there was no hope.
How would Dillon get to me with the wood across the door? Donnie would probably kill me first and then, as the bigger of the two and the only one armed, he would kill Dillon, too.
In half a second, the handle of the shed shook. I tensed and Donnie pushed the knife in even harder, my neck warm with my own blood.
“I’ll kill him too, I swear to God.” His mouth came up to my ear, his voice still a low whisper. I held my breath.
“Sadie, darlin’, are you in there?” I closed my eyes and my lips trembled. We both heard as Dillon’s footsteps moved away from the shed.
Donnie relaxed the knife a bit. “I’ve been a’ waitin’ for my chance. You think you can run around teasin’ me wearin’ clothes like this.” He yanked
the bottom hem of my summer dress and then hastily pushed it up above my hips.
I was like a statue. I couldn’t move. Slowly, so agonizingly slow, he pushed his huge bear-like paw into my panties and down toward my forbidden zone.
I tried to move away as my stomach turned upside down. He started to gnaw greedily on my neck under my left ear. I tried to squeeze my thighs together but his fingers pushed their way in. He sucked his teeth and hissed. My hands curled up in cringing fists as I burned in a way I’d never imagined.
This can’t be real! was all I could think as I looked around for a way out.
“Oh, yessssss,” he whispered. “See, yer wet for me. I know you want it. It’ll feel good, I promise.”
Wet? What? I shook my head no and the blade pinched again. It was as if he was trying to seduce me.
And then he switched, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you never gonna want that little pussy brother a’ mine agin.”
My heart fell into my stomach like someone dropping a hammer on the floor.
“Sadie, please, baby. Come on. I’m sorry. It’s gettin’ dark. Let me take you home!” Dillon yelled, in a panicked voice, but he was much farther away now—almost an echo of a memory.
If I could only get out of here my Dillon could save me. He loves me. Then it hit me. He’s not going to want me after what his brother’s going to do to me.
My fear over this, over the thought that Dillon wouldn’t want me anymore, filled me with a rumble of adrenaline. I shoved Donnie’s heavy frame away, pushed back against the bags of feed with my back, and kicked him in his stomach as hard as I could. The knife scraped across my neck for just a brief second and I almost screamed but before I could, Donnie punched me in the gut causing the air to leave my whole body.
I was doubled over, mouth opening like a fish needing water. I couldn’t breathe. Before I could do or say anything, he turned me around and slammed my face into the bags of feed. Then he kicked my feet apart one at a time with his dirty boots.
I heard the sound of his zipper, and then he pulled my panties with his knife, tearing them off me, and viciously ripped into me robbing me, in that moment, of my choices, of my virtue, of my future, of the girl I once was and never would be again. That girl died right then.
I caught my breath and cried out, “No!”
“Shut the fuck up!” he whispered through gritted teeth as he grabbed my face and pinched my mouth shut.
I tried to straighten my back. But with his knife-hand he pulled me up by my stomach, my feet left the ground with my legs dangling, and he pushed me back onto himself as I gasped and clawed at the bags in front of me.
His fist and the handle of the knife pushed into my belly. I was pinned in place as my cringing fists pressed against the bags of feed. He covered my mouth with his other hand, jabbing his fingernails into my face as he set my feet back on the ground.
He moaned deep in his throat and thrashed into me again, piercing me with pain, but I couldn’t make a sound. Screams were stuck in my throat. “Yer so tight,” he hissed in my ear, twisting his pelvis around and around.
I screwed my eyes shut to take my thoughts upward on my body. A tearing, slicing pain shot through me. It was more than I could take. But I was powerless to stop it. Helpless.
“So. Sweet. Just. Like. I. Knew. You’d. Be,” he mumbled into my ear while he slowly sunk farther into me—relishing me. “This is mine,” he claimed, as I felt something warm trickle down my right leg.
I hurt so badly. I thought he was ripping me in two—in a way he was. There was her, and now there is only me.
Tears were forcing themselves down my face onto his hand and I had a lump in my throat from the screams that were stuck there. I felt his feet slide farther apart pushing mine with his, forcing them wider. He tilted his pelvis and pushed my chest into the bags of feed. “Stay still or I’ll cut you agin,” he admonished, his voice strained.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t have anyway. I was like a dead butterfly pinned into one of those glass boxes. My legs were restrained with his feet, he held my stomach with his knife hand, the blade of the knife engraved my pale flesh before he let go.
He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and slammed into me over and over. A deep, pummeling rhythm ensued with his crass grunts and my pained breaths as a static background.
I remember the strangest things from this moment. The smell of the bags of feed, as he pushed my chin into them, they smelled sweet and nourishing and reminded me of my horses. Then I looked up at the dust in the shed as it was being highlighted by what was left of the sunlight shining in through the slabs of wood in a strand of air right above my head. The dust sparkled and performed until it disappeared.
Then in the dark, my thoughts turned to Dillon not wanting me anymore. I could actually see Dillon’s image, his ocean blue eyes gleaming at me as if he was standing near a clear lake and then it rippled and he disappeared—I was alone.
He’s never going to love me now.
Then I thought about momma saying babies come from sex. I had an image of myself with a pooched out tummy over my Daddy’s knee getting whipped with his belt for being with child—a hussy.
I pinched my eyes shut and pretended my body was not my own. Please, dear God. Just take me now. Forgive me of my sins. If I wasn’t in this body anymore he couldn’t hurt me. I wished I was dead. But I couldn’t scream so he’d make it that way.
Thankfully, numbness took over then. I became just a husk as if a bucket of Novocain was poured over me. He was just mounting this shell of my body. It wasn’t me anymore. I was thankful for my answered prayer.
Vaguely, I remember him slamming into me one more time, stilling, tensing, and then quivering as he pulled my hair back tilting my chin to the ceiling. His whole body went lax and he leaned his full weight on my back— heavy, like a burden that never goes away.
He was still inside me. I could feel it throbbing and twitching like a rattlesnake’s tail between my stretched thighs. His breath was sporadic—foul on my cheek. My neck was warm with blood. The front of my chest felt cold as he stepped out letting my legs go. I winced as we separated, tucking my behind under me like a whipped dog.
I moved quickly over to the wall and leaned my left side against the shed wishing I’d disappear. I was watching him out of one eye as he touched his now limp weapon as if he was proud of what it had done for him. He shoved it into his underwear, pulled his pants up and zipped the crotch closed.
He squatted down to fetch my ripped panties, put them up to his nose and sniffed them like a dog imprinting a scent before he put them in his pocket.
As soon as he straightened up, he pushed me, pressing my face hard against the wall and put his mouth to my ear. “If you tell anybody, I’ll cut yer stupid head off and bury it in my god-damned yard. That’d be better than seeing you with him anyways.”
I just closed my eyes. Bide my time.
“Say it!”
“I won’t tell.” My voice sounded fast and shaky like a salt and pepper shaker in his hand. He laughed and if I could have been anymore shocked —I was. I waited as he breathed me in.
“I’m the first. Ain’t I?”
I couldn’t speak.
“Ain’t I?” he pressed.
I nodded my head yes.
“And the last,” he stated.
I just stood there, shivering.
Please, just go away.
What he’d done to me combined with his words attached themselves inside my brain like a virus that impregnates its host with its diseased atoms and molecules. Deep in there where nothing could remove it and it has room to grow and multiply.
He leaned into my side with his now tamed hips and moved my hair away from my face. “I didn’t wanna hurt you. It’s always a little rough the first time, baby. I’ll be gentler next time.” Bile rose in my throat so I held my breath.
“You ‘member this. I ain’t sharin’you with him. This is mine now,” he said, his face a shadow or a demon
as he cupped me between my thighs and flicked at me with his finger, growled, and then stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked.
“You taste like me,” he said. I stood there silently, hating him with the tiny pieces left in me that weren’t broken.
I felt his fingers move up to my mouth as he rubbed something wet all over my face. I heard his words. They just didn’t make sense to me. It rattled around in my brain not making contact with reason. He scowled in the shadows of the moon, and shook me with both arms. “Say it. Whose is this?” His voice sounded like a hail storm on a tin roof.
“Yours,” I said, defeated.
“You better not do nothin’ like that with my brother agin. I swear to god. I’ll kill him, too.”
“I won’t. I promise.” I sounded like a robot.
He smacked me hard on my behind and grabbed it. “Good girl,” he said, while he squeezed.
I can still hear those words sometimes when I close my eyes at night. Sometimes I hear it when I’m grown up and some poor soul tries to make love to me. “Good girl.”
Then he kissed me on my neck just under my ear—softly this time, as if he was my lover and not my rapist.
“I love you, always have,” he whispered into my ear. It took everything in me that was strong not to scratch at his face with my nails. I closed my eyes and waited. I heard him pull the piece of wood from the door, it creaked open and all was silent.
My legs were shaking. I wiped my bloody mouth on my daddy’s denim jacket and watched the door with my uncovered eye. My knees were touching and my ankles were pointed out.
Go! I told myself, and darted out of that shed as fast as I could. What if he comes back for round two?
I ran and ran for seconds, minutes, hours, I have no idea. I ran until my legs gave out and I fell into a moss patch under nothing but the starry sky. And then I started throwing up. I threw up until there was nothing left inside of me and I was heaving emptiness—kind of like my spirit.