by Abby Gale
He shakes his head and places me the way he wants like a ragdoll. His chuckle reaches my ears. He’s amused like me being a puppet pleases him.
Then, he starts to take off his own clothes.
I can see him, I can hear him, but I can’t move, I can’t scream.
And as he takes away my innocence from me, I watch it like a dream. No, a nightmare. I watch everything like it’s an out-of-body experience.
I hear his every groan, every crude word, every animalistic grunt. And I watch every tear I shed as my face pressed against the mirror. I hear every silent scream that rips out from my heart.
And I do nothing.
I just watch and watch.
And a part of me dies. A part I’ll never get back.
Chapter 23
Past
Age 14
Since that night, the night I died, I’ve been in this room, tied to a bed and naked. I don’t know for certain how long I’ve been here; days and nights tangle together even though I’ve tried to count, but it’s been months… four months, more or less. Four months of hell. I gave up on crying or yelling weeks ago. No one will hear, no one’s going to save me, and no one will believe me.
In the middle of the night, as I shudder with cold and hunger, I think about Nick. I think about his eyes that always shine bright, I think about his smile and how that warmed my heart. My eyes burn with the tears, and I smile through them as I remember the chocolates he shared with me.
And then, I stop thinking about him.
I stop because he’s too good to be brought into this moment, even if it’s only in my memories. I stop because he shines so bright, he warms so well to be in this place where only darkness and coldness live. He’s too pure to be in my mind where every innocence has been ripped off and where there are only rage and broken pieces of the girl he used to know.
He doesn’t know this girl, and he shouldn’t be in a stranger’s mind. He shouldn’t be comforting me.
I force every thought about him deep down in my mind, under the blanket of darkness. I silence every laugh and every word we shared with the evil’s whispers, curses, and grunts of forced pleasure. I replace his every kind touch with the cruel handlings. And finally, I let my hopes die along with my childish, innocent love.
When the door opens I turn my head and look at my monster, but tonight it’s not one monster I see, it’s two. I immediately recognize the sheriff of the town, but my naivetes have died with my innocent. With one look at two men, I know neither of them are here to help me tonight.
Turning my head, I focus on the cross in front of me. I glare at it. I curse at everything it represents, and I’m furious at everything he’s let happen to me right under his eyes.
As I’m abused and humiliated in every way possible by two men who should have been my protectors and the voice of everything right, I glare at everything that supposed to be holy.
In this room, there’s nothing holy.
***
3 weeks later
It’s one of those lucky days I’ve been fed. Even though I’m not sure if it’s luck or part of the torture. I don’t know why I want to stay alive. Didn’t I get enough of this nightmare? Wouldn’t it be better to end this torture now? Shouldn’t death sound like a sweet promise to me instead of a dreadful threat?
I chew the bread while my head’s full of these questions and my eyes focused on the cross across the room. It’s the usual place of my eyes. I don’t want to see the faces. I don’t want to look into their eyes and see any emotions in there. I don’t want them to be like human beings. For me, they’re monsters, and I want them to stay that way.
“Come here, we need to get you cleaned up,” Mary says. I hate her name. How can she have a name so pure while she lets something like this happen in front of her eyes, in her knowledge?
I don’t fight as she frees me from the cuffs. Why would I fight? What good would it do to me? Who would believe a fourteen-year-old against the father and the sheriff of the town, the two men this town adores and worships without question?
My knees buckle when she brings me to my feet. Dizziness takes over me for a second, but her rough grip on my arms centers me. I let her drag me to the bathroom. I stare at the tile floor, focusing on the black stains between white marbles as she sponges my body.
“It doesn’t happen to everyone,” she starts talking. She does that all the time. I don’t know if she expects me to indulge in a conversation with her or she just wants to fill the silence.
“It only happens to some of them. Some rotten ones like you. You should blame yourselves for all the things that happen to you. You have evil in you, a sinner who desires to sin. You’re the devil’s hand, tempting even the most religious guys to sin. I don’t pity you. You deserve all this and more. You deserve to burn in hell,” she grits out with so much vengeance it almost makes me smile, the ridiculousness of the situation.
“And you know what? Everyone in this town would think the same way. Even your own mother knew how dangerous of a girl you are. Even she was afraid of you. I don’t blame her. You’ve been here for four months, no one stayed here that long. You keep tempting the men. The evil in you is strong,” she spits out.
I wait for her to continue, but silence fills the room until she breaks it.
“You haven’t bled for three months,” she says slowly like she’s uncertain.
I keep staring at the black stain.
I see from the corner of my eye that she opens and closes the drawers in the bathroom closet. And she comes back with a small stick in her hand. “Pee on this,” she says.
I frown but do as I’m told like the puppet I am. Being like a ragdoll is strangely liberating in my situation, thinking I don’t have any control in this. Because if I feel like I can change this, it will be the death of me. It will give me hope and hope makes you feel alive. I don’t want to feel alive, if I do, then I’ll have to feel everything they do to me.
The silence stretches in the air as she paces in front of me. When she finally stops I hear her gasp.
“You’re pregnant,” she whispers.
My head jerked to her way, zeroing on the stick in her hands.
Pregnant? Am I pregnant?
My hands move to my stomach in their own accord. I don’t know if I’m making it up with the news I’ve just gotten, or there is really a small bump there, but it changes everything.
I have a living creature inside me. I have a baby in there, a baby who tries to hold on to life, a baby I’m responsible for.
Suddenly, I feel everything all at once.
Just five minutes ago I was a fourteen-year-old girl who was ready to die, but in the span of five minutes I grew up. I’m not a girl who accepts her fate and all the suffering she endures, I’m now a woman who is ready to fight, not for herself but for the little human inside her. I’m now a mother, and I have never thought it would make such a difference, not even years would mature someone like this reveal.
“We’ll take care of this. That cannot be accepted. That’s wrong. We cannot let another devil’s spawn to come to life,” Mary yells like the mad woman she is.
And I stay silent even though there’s a storm inside me.
I’ll get free of this mess.
I’ll be a better mother than my own.
I’ll protect my baby… no matter what the consequences are.
***
They come in the night. Father Edward, Sheriff Trexton, Sister Mary, and the town’s only doctor, Martin.
Martin sets his things on the nightstand next to the bed. I look at all the shiny metals he displays there. Some of them look sharp.
“Uncuff her and give me some privacy with her,” Martin says to the other three in the room.
“Just finish your job, Doctor.” It’s Trexton.
“I agreed to do what you said. You can at least respect me,” Doctor Martin snaps at him. I used to love Doctor Martin. He’s an old man with a bald head and a big belly.
After
a glaring contest, I’m uncuffed and alone in the room with the doctor.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, little one,” he murmurs. “But I have to do this, and I think this is maybe for your own good. You’re too young to be a mother.”
“Just one more day,” I whisper.
He frowns in confusion.
“Can’t we do it tomorrow? I’ve just learned that I’m pregnant, can’t I have one more day with my baby before you take her away from me?”
“They want me to do it today,” he says. He’s troubled, but I can see he’s considering my plea.
“Please, you’re the doctor. Tell them you can’t do it today. Tell them one of your things is broken. Tell them you gave me something to make me sleep all night so they won’t get mad at you. Tell them anything. Please.”
He scratches his bald head before pacing in the room. He’s distressed enough he doesn’t even notice the missing lancet as he picks up his things.
“Pretend you’re sleeping and don’t make me regret this,” he warns and leaves the room.
I hear yelling outside the cabin, but I’m too excited to make sense of it. Caressing the metal in my hand, I smile.
I’ll protect you, my baby.
Chapter 24
Past
Age 14
It was so fast.
I don’t even remember how it happened.
One moment I was pretending to sleep and the next I was covered in blood. I remember feeling his breath on my face, I remember him feeling me up, pushing up the cover the doctor has placed on me before leaving. And then I panicked. I waved the scalpel with all my strength, and I felt the warmness of blood spray on me.
I heard screams, curses, but the ringing in my ears and my heartbeat overpowered every other voice.
I cut his neck.
Blood kept hitting me on my face, my neck, my chest. The blood was so much, it was like a fountain. It rained on me.
I wasn’t disgusted by blood at that moment. It made me happy. It made me feel joyous, and I pushed his heavy body off me, standing up to dance for my victory.
I’ve protected my baby…
But then, I hear the deafening sound of a gunshot. I feel the pain ricochet through my body. My inside is burning, turning into ashes, and I know then… I know I couldn’t protect my baby.
Chapter 25
Present
Dear Nikki,
This one will be my last letter to you and the hardest one I’ve ever written. It will be about all the fucked-up shit in our lives, about how stained our relationship is, even when we were just two innocent kids.
I’ve always felt guilty about what you’ve been through. I always thought it was my fault, that if I stayed away from you that you wouldn’t have to go to that fucking hellhole. Even more than that I felt guilty because it wouldn’t change a thing. I would still want to meet that little girl behind the bush, I would still think that making her smile was my duty. I would still want to spend every stolen time with her. And that makes me a selfish bastard… just like my father.
My father… I have never talked about him, you have never asked about my family. But you know him, you met him. He’s one of the most trusted guys in our shithole of a town, the man who’s responsible for our safety and peace.
I laugh at the irony even as I write these words.
My father was a monster, Nikki. A monster too dangerous because he could hide it from everyone, from the whole town, and even from his own family.
My father was the Sheriff, Nikki… and he ruined you.
There’s nothing I can do to make it softer on you. It’s the disgusting truth.
I hate him, Nikki. I hate my own father, and I hate myself.
I hate myself for not letting you go, for still thinking about you every fucking day. I’m ashamed of myself because I want you. I want you all to myself. And this makes me even worse than him. I know whenever you see me you’ll think of him, you’ll remember him, but I still can’t stop wanting you, wanting what we could have if our lives weren’t such a disgusting, twisted irony.
I hate you for being the reason I spend my days behind bars.
I hate you for shattering the image of my perfect family to its ugly pieces.
I hate you for turning my childhood hero into a monster.
I hate you for rooting yourself into every fiber of my being even at such a young age that I can’t rip you away from my thoughts.
And I’m coming for you, Nikki. I’m coming for you, and I don’t know if it will be because of hate or love.
Nick.
I rest my hand against the drawer to support my weight. I’ve been wondering where he’s been for days, why he hasn’t tried to talk to me, and now I know why. He’s been gearing up to drop the bomb in my hands, in my life. He even has the decency to do it with a letter. A letter in my underwear drawer. He’s stolen the most innocent memories I had -the memories I had with him- along with my panties.
I read, read, and re-read the letter until I can recite the words, but they still don’t make any sense to me. My skin breaks out a cold sweat, my hands shake violently, my heart hammers and hurts my chest, but my brain still refuses to understand what my body was already terrified of.
Nick…
He’s my childhood love, the only person I’ve ever loved, the only man who can still make my heart beat faster even after twenty years.
And he’s the son of a monster who took away my hope, my innocence, and my baby.
Is he back to finish what his father started? Does he want revenge for what he did in my name?
Chapter 26
Past
Age 14
Pain.
All I can feel is pain.
It’s not the pain of the gunshot, it’s so much more than that. I would prefer to be shot a thousand times than feeling this kind of ache.
Deep inside my heart, reaching every fiber of my being with its cruel claws.
Hot and burning.
Gnawing and suffocating.
It’s the pain of loss. The loss of hope, the loss of the innocent life that didn’t even have a chance to grow, and the loss of my childhood.
Tears drop silently on my cheek when the doctor comes in. I see the police outside my room when the door opens, but I don’t care what will happen to me anymore.
“Hi, Veronica. How are you feeling?” he asks with a slight accent I can’t figure out.
“I feel like death,” I say. My voice is hoarse.
He nods. “It’s normal. You’ve lost lots of blood, and it’s been just two days since you got out of a difficult operation. Give yourself time to rest.”
I stare at him. I can see the reserve behind his eyes. He’s professionally staying away from the situation of my baby, but I know I lost her.
“My baby?” I whisper and wait till he makes eye-contact with me.
“I’m sorry, we lost the baby,” he confirms the fear inside me. Hearing it from someone else makes it even harder if it’s possible. “I wish I could tell you that you’re so young, that you can try again later, and that it’s even the best both for you and the baby, but I can’t,” he adds. His voice looms like a dark cloud over the room.
I open and close my mouth to ask what he’s talking about, but no voice comes out.
“The bullet has caused irreversible damage to some of your organs. We had to take out your ovaries and uterus. I’m sorry, but you can never be pregnant again.”
Doctor’s voice blends with a soul-shattering scream that causes my ears to throb. I frown, looking at him with ringing in my ears, ache in my throat. It’s only when two nurses come to hold my arms I realize the soul-shattering scream belongs to me.
I’m thrashing, screaming, trying to get free of the pain that burns me inside and out, but nurses are keeping me still. I see the needle in her hands, and when she pushes it under my skin, the cold liquid moves into my veins, burning wherever it goes, bringing exhaustion so strong I feel my eyelids close.
&nbs
p; As everything goes black, I see a little angel who smiles at me from a blindingly bright spot, and I whisper, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
Chapter 27
Present
He’s always there. Always watching. Every day, every night, wherever I go, whatever I do, whenever I move.
It’s been two fucking weeks since I’ve read his last letter, since the day my past awakens from its slumber and laughs at me, enjoying the twisted joke my life has become.
I now know why Nick looked like he’d vomit when I told him everything when he visited me in jail. I now know why he didn’t try to fight when I wanted him to leave. I can understand why he couldn’t look me in the eye and why his body shook like he’d have a seizure before he left me alone. His life was ruined that day, too. But understanding the past doesn’t change the present, it doesn’t change what scars yesterday had left on us, and it doesn’t stop the constant need to vomit.
The words he wrote in his letter and the memories of my past blend together, haunting me like a ghost. I’m disgusted with my past, and now, I’m disgusted with my present. Because no matter how nasty the situation we are in, I still want to know the man Nick becomes, I still want to feel his love now that he’s a man instead of a teenager.
That’s why I let him watch me even though I don’t spare a glance at him. He’s everywhere; in my house, in the club, in the path I walk home. I can feel his presence wherever I go, whatever I do. His gaze follows me as I dance, as I shower, as I sleep. And he’s also in my thoughts, confusing me, haunting me, comforting me, and making me long for him.
As he blends his life with mine, I try to comprehend what to do with the bomb he’s given into my hands with his confession. He’s persistent and the unfinished business from my past I want to resolve, but he’s also everything I want to stay away. He hates me as much as I hate him for taking away my control and not giving me a chance, but he also loves me as much as I love him with the mixture of filthy, sinful lust, and innocent childhood love.
