Havoc

by Pamela Ann

  I watched him disappear from my peripheral view before I released a melancholy sigh and braced myself for losing a good neighbor. With a heavy heart, I spun around and picked up the garbage I had dumped on the ground then disposed of it in the recycling bin.

  Walking back towards the door, I instantly halted when I heard my name being called out by him.

  “Ana.”

  My hands trembled before I spun around to face him. My air supply ceased as my heartbeat sped up, ringing throughout my body as I watched him approach me.

  “Do you have a minute?” he asked calmly while I was going through so much just at seeing him again.

  Ice cold eyes. Dark hair. HIM. He was here.

  Nodding, I made an audible whisper of, “Yeah.”

  He looked into the driveway before coming back to me again, frowning. “Friend of yours?”

  It was my turn to frown. How long had he been waiting around before he decided to come out of hiding? “Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine.” The only friend of mine, I silently added.

  “I see,” he said with a stern face, eyes gazing at me, dilated.

  Tonight he was dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket. He looked deadly—hot but deadly. “Did you find what I sent you helpful?” I was prying a little, wishing he’d tell me I had a week or so until I could get my reward, however my wish was immediately squashed when he opened his mouth.

  “You didn’t tell me he had friends with him—that put a strain on my plans.”

  “You never said—” I started to argue, but I saw his point. Whatever Doug did, and that included everyone he hung around. “I failed you… I’m sorry.” He didn’t know how much. If only I could turn back the clock and do it right this time around, I would. I hated disappointing him, most especially since he meant to give me a hefty sum for my freedom.

  Hunter stared at me, expressionless. I wasn’t sure if he found me boring or if he found me dumb and insipid. Again, he was good at being mercurial.

  “Just don’t do that again,” he finally said after the long, odd stretch of time.

  I nodded profusely as I blabbered my promise of not disappointing him the next time.

  “Anything you want to tell me?” His question threw me off as I stared at him in full confusion.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything, Ana…”

  Anything…? Well… “Do you have ecstasy or crack? Doug didn’t leave any.”

  His frown deepened, looking displeased. “Using it for fun is one thing, but using it just because you want to is a whole different fucking matter, Ana.”

  He was trying to reel his anger in, yet I could feel it in waves. “I just thought I should try. I need it. Bad.”

  I saw him shake his head, immediately denying me of what I wanted most. “Tough luck. I sure as fuck won’t be handing you crack. You should know better than to ask me that.”

  “I thought I should try.” Why was he being so weird? It was he who introduced me to molly. “You gave me ecstasy—molly—and now you’re telling me I should know better?” I was starting to glare at him, my addiction getting the best of me. “What kind of shit is that?”

  “It was different.”

  Bullshit. “The fuck it was!”

  Angry with him and myself, I stomped like a little child and shut the door without looking back at him. He deserved it. Men and their double standards. I was so over it.

  +++

  My morning started with a massive migraine that threatened to blow my brains out along with immense loathing for myself. I wasn’t sure if it was the withdrawals or how much my body was starting to throb, but I ended up wanting to touch myself. Then, when I did and found relief, I hated myself more.

  By noon, I had already come more than ten times and still wasn’t satisfied. My body kept demanding more, and keeping up with it was getting difficult. I knew these weird cravings of both sex and drugs would stave off the second I got a drug, any drug, in my system.

  After cleaning myself and relieving myself in the toilet, I stared into the mirror, going over my naked form as I saw the small bruising and marks the guys had left on my body. Yet, when I recalled what had happened with them, instead of feeling disgust, I would get turned on and the need to touch myself was extreme.

  “Whore!” I yelled at my reflection.

  “Disgusting.”

  “Nympho—”

  “Slut!”

  Cussing at myself went on for about ten minutes before I started to really look at myself and hate what I saw. My eyes were too unfocused, only coveting two things: sex and drugs.

  Cupping my left breast, I gripped it as hard as I could so I could feel the forceful, crushing pain it gave me, hoping it would relieve me of some of my cravings. I flinched as I closed my eyes and did the same thing with my other breast, not letting go with the other so I could feel double the pain.

  “Whore!” I screamed with loathing. “Whore. Whore. Whore!”

  Out of nowhere, I found myself kicking the drawers before me, maybe I was too angry or in need of more pain, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I was losing control… until my toe hit one of the screws from the drawers and drew blood.

  The trickling, red blood got my attention, so much so that I was entranced at the color, the beauty of how the blood could slowly seep out of this puny puncture wound.

  My eyes wavered like a maniac inside the drawer and the contents inside it. Then, I found a nail clipper. It was as if I was possessed because my hands grabbed it and thought it was the most beautiful piece I had ever held.

  Looking at my reflection, I saw the real me.

  “You’re a whore, Ana…”

  “Whore,” I whispered again before I looked down at my body then dipped my middle finger into my pussy, slowly grinding my body on it, as I felt my body awakening at the mere touch of a finger alone. “Whore… Yes, I’m a whore.”

  Doug was right. Dwayne and Sean were right. Of course they were. They treated me the way a man only saw a whore.

  Wiping my finger off on my thighs, I gazed upon the area where my juices glistened on my skin, mesmerizing me a little.

  Then, just like that, I started to slowly use the nail clipper on my inner thighs, cutting puny holes to draw blood until I couldn’t anymore.

  Chapter 22

  The punctured skin had ointment and bandages over it, yet I hadn’t minded. The skin would eventually heal and the process had been worth it for me.

  I knew what I had done, even though I didn’t try to ponder hard about it the next day. I wasn’t sure if it was the relief I felt that came with it, or if I was simply fed up with my life, or maybe both, but I knew I felt better again.

  That day, Doug came back again by himself. He was sweet, bringing me a chocolate cake and telling me I was perfect for him, and how happy I made him that his friends liked me, too.

  Of course they liked me, I wanted to say out loud.

  “You make me so happy, baby! That’s why we’re moving soon. Somewhere there’s more opportunity for a great life for us and where I can make us lots of money. Don’t you worry, baby, I got you.” Doug pulled me into his lap before kissing me deeply.

  We were in the living room where he had watched his friends fuck me again and again. I’d kill myself before going anywhere with him.

  “I like it here, Doug. I don’t want to go anywhere.” Ever.

  “Come on, the idea will grow on you—trust me.”

  Never again. I would never trust a monster like him.

  “I like this house and I’m used to it. I’ll stay here and you can drive back and forth,” I tried to reason with him, hoping he’d listen. I wasn’t sure where his plans were going, but I had a feeling this was probably why Hunter needed to know his whereabouts.

  “We. Are. Leaving! END OF STORY,” he yelled into my face, his veins popping out of his neck.

  His up and down personality didn’t even faze me anymore. “NO! I’m staying!” I yelled at him before slapping his f
ace.

  That made me freeze, knowing I had stepped out of line this time.

  “You should know better than to fuck with me, Ana.” He tsk-tsked before dumping me on his side and then getting up and pulling a knife out from his back pocket.

  Since when does he have a knife with him? I alarmingly thought as the metal glinted at me.

  “Doug, p-please. I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “So. Sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he mocked. “Bitches like you need to learn.” He laughed as he placed the tip of the knife on my belly over my shirt before grazing it upward, still laughing. “Ya gotta learn to know your place. I’m the man of the house, Ana. What I say goes, ya hear?”

  I nodded, frightened for my life.

  The edge of the knife stopped in-between the valley of my breasts before he applied pressure right in my sternum. I felt the sharp metal prick my skin and sat paralyzed, afraid for what was to come. If he planned to kill me, I would be grateful because my misery would immediately be gone. Therefore, I waited… and waited for it, but I was surprised when it started moving again, right above my nipple.

  “Scared of the knife, Ana?” He laughed again, feeling powerful. “Or scared of me?”

  “Both,” I responded truthfully.

  He snickered, pleased with himself. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He then lifted my shirt and used the knife to cut it in two before he did the same thing with the rest of my garments.

  When he told me to open my legs, I did as he commanded, hoping he’d let go of the knife so I could kill him myself, but he never let go of it. The entire time he fucked me, he had it against my neck, as if he was about to kill me…

  It was all a joke to him. While I lay there, frightened and afraid, he was laughing, getting off on it. What kind of a sick, twisted bastard would do that?

  After he got whatever he wanted from me and my body, he got off me and zipped himself up, muttering something about the best sex of his life before he strode into the kitchen with the knife in hand and took a swig of his freshly opened beer, satisfied with life.

  “I have to meet someone. I’ll be back later,” he said after he finished his beer and strode into the living room with a smile.

  “Okay.”

  I want to kill him, I vowed as I watched him with hate.

  “Stay naked, Ana.”

  I watched him leave the living room then listened to his footsteps retreat towards the hall and out of the house before I heard the engine. I waited until he drove off then I started to move and made my way upstairs.

  This fucker was going down. Well, I hoped Hunter would take him down.

  Opening my bedroom door, I then opened my closet to look for the weekend bag with the phone buried all the way down, underneath some towels I had tucked in there to hide what was underneath.

  With the phone in my hands, I was about to type a text message when something caught my attention. Looking up, all the blood drained from my face.

  “Doug! Wh-what are y-you d-doing back?” Stuttering and trembling, I tried to remember how the alphabet was situated on each keypad. All I needed was to type help or something to alert Hunter. I tried best as I could, typing blindly without breaking eye contact with Doug before I started to back myself into the corner wall, next to the window.

  Doug started to tread towards me, looking like the devil himself—possessed like I had never seen him before. Not like he had been downstairs with the knife. This time, I had no doubt in my mind he was out to hurt me when he got ahold of me.

  I was punching all the digits before I hit send. I wasn’t sure what I was doing was right, but I knew I had to take my chances.

  When I finally reached the side of the window, I pushed on the screen to make a hole to drop my phone below, but the phone got stuck. Before I could get another chance to push on it, I felt my hair being pulled out by its roots, causing me to roll my eyes backwards from the pain. I saw the window glass before my head was smashed into it.

  “What are you hiding from me, you stupid bitch!” Doug yelled as he gripped my hair and smashed my head into the window again, this time the blow was twice as bad, breaking the glass into shards. My sight blurred, my head throbbed, and the pain was beyond what I could ever imagine.

  When I saw him reach out for the phone that was still stuck in the screen, I used all my might to push him off me so his attention was back to me and not on the phone. My strategy worked… for a little while.

  “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” he shrilled into my ear before I saw the wall coming in to greet me at such speed I knew I wouldn’t survive the blow.

  I remembered feeling myself slip off the wall, limp and lifeless, before I blacked out. Dead to the world.

  They say death was the end. They say death was an unfortunate thing to happen to anyone, but to me, it was a gift I welcomed with open arms. Death was what I sought. It was the last thing I thought of—prayed and wished for—before darkness took me in, enveloping me.

  For the first time in a while, I felt at peace. I felt light, as if the weight of my sins had been lifted and the heaviness in my chest had never been there to begin with.

  “You’re safe now,” someone said amidst the darkness.

  I wasn’t sure if it was my father or someone else, all I knew was it was a man’s voice. Furthermore, even though the voice couldn’t be recognized, it brought complete comfort to me. It was all I needed to hear before I could finally close my eyes and free myself of the restraints my life had held me by.

  My life was sad. It hadn’t started out that way, however after the mall shooting and my father being killed so viciously and without conscience, life had become dull but bearable. I hadn’t been completely happy, but with my mother and the comfort of having Bob and his son, Doug, in my life, I once had possessed security. Never had I imagined the horror Doug would bring to me.

  I had endured for as long as I could, but I was done enduring the pain and torture my life had set out for me. What else was there? There was nothing to go back to. No happiness to recall that brought any comfort or reason. Thus, I stayed in the dark, where I was welcomed. Where I felt at home.

  Closing my eyes, I prayed and sought for forgiveness.

  Then I smiled, smiling the biggest smile—the carefree smile I once had gleefully enjoyed giving my parents when they did something to make me utterly and completely happy.

  I was free…

  Finally.

  Chapter 23

  Light.

  Bright streaks of sunshine greeted my face before I opened my eyes, smiling as I did so.

  “Come. Come, child,” the voice boomed from somewhere amidst the bright sun.

  Squinting, I tried to gaze into its brightness, hoping I could find the person or something behind it that had said those words to me, but I couldn’t see past the blinding brightness.

  Is this Heaven? It was the first thing that came to mind. Usually, this was how it was described, even in the Bible. Light and sunshine always was accompanied by someone from the Heavens.

  The bubble of excitement was immediately crushed when the streaks of sunshine became gray with the shades of white and black, meshing along together.

  “What’s going on?” I started to panic, looking around, but the colors surrounded me as if they were enclosing in on me. “Help!” I wasn’t screaming, but it was almost there.

  “Life is what you make of it,” the voice started again, making the ends of my hair stand out. “You have to see it with love and you will find it.”

  I shook my head in protest. “No… please no.”

  Tears, I needed them yet still couldn’t produce the damn things.

  “Live with happiness and you will learn to embrace it, Ana.” His voice tried to comfort, however it only saddened me once more. “Darkness is everywhere, but so is the light.”

  “No…” I begged, dropping to my knees, looking above to the colors that kept shifting in my face. Gray. White. Black. “I don’t want t
o go back. I’m happy here. Please…” Hugging myself, I looked around, hoping he’d understand me. “No more pain. I can’t take anymore pain.”

  Silence.

  I waited and waited for a minute. Then five. Ten. But silence was all that greeted me.

  Still on my knees, I stared at the white ground—smooth and perfect—before I saw the streaks of the sun once again. I immediately looked up, hoping my wish had been granted.

  “Seek your path. Seek your light, and you will find peace.” Those were his last words before the darkness hugged me coldly, denying me the happiness I wished to have.

  +++

  I woke up as though I was taking my last breaths along with something cold on my head. Attempting to pry my eyes open seemed like an insurmountable task. It was as if something weighed heavily on my eyelids to prevent me from lifting them. But even though I couldn’t open them, something told me it was dark.

  Thinking it was nighttime, I dozed off, hoping I’d hear the voice again.

  He didn’t come back in my dreams that night, though.

  When I woke up again, I tried to grumble something about the sharp pain in my brain, but forming words and trying to speak them already had made me feel weary. Besides, I felt as if I could snooze again. Wishing my dream to come back, I submitted to sleep once more.

  This became a common occurrence—snoozing and rousing to consciousness, yet I couldn’t fathom opening my eyes, nor did I find the courage to. Silence always greeted me, and every time I realized I was awake, I didn’t fight at all when my body demanded I sleep more.

  It felt like a game of hid and seek. Each time I submerged into my subconscious, I sought out that place, that familiar voice again. He never came back, though. He, too, had abandoned me. Like my parents. Like Hunter.

  However, like all good things, it came to an end.

  The next time I woke up, my eyes lifted themselves without effort. Utter misery was the first thing I felt, realizing I wasn’t dead but alive and still breathing. Life was cruel; I knew that for a fact.

  The silent, steady beeps of the machine next to me caught my attention. Moving my head to the side, I felt the sharp pain on the side of my head when I made the effort to do so, making me shrill from the hurt I wasn’t used to.