by Kent, Rina
To say I’m not scared would be a lie. I’m actually terrified.
Every step down the dark stony stairs is like those I took in my subconscious during my sessions with Dr Khan. What I find when I reach the bottom won’t be pretty.
Then Aiden’s touch registers, his warmth, his silent support. The fact he’s here with me fills me with a strange type of peace.
I can do this.
If I want to have a future with Aiden, I need to figure out the past first.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Kind of.” I breathe out. “Aren’t you scared?”
“I’m not scared, I’m cautious.”
“You should be. This place must bring back horrible memories.”
“No, I’m not cautious about this place or the memories associated with it. I’m cautious about how you’ll react after you learn the truth.”
If I was anxious before, then my state of mind is skyrocketing right now.
We arrive at the bottom of the stairs. I’m sucking air into my lungs as Aiden pushes the metallic door open.
Both of us freeze at the entrance.
The basement appears a lot smaller than in my memory. Back then, it was a large pitch, all dark and dirty and… horrid.
But that’s how people react to traumas. Everything is magnified, becoming bigger and scarier than it actually is.
The basement is in fact the size of a room, perhaps three to four metres length.
An automatic light shines on the dark grey walls and ground. There are no chains in the corner. Dad probably got rid of those. A lavatory takes their place.
Other than that, the entire basement is empty. Neither the walls nor the floor have been renovated; they look just how I remember them.
It’s clean now, though. There’s no smell of piss and vomit.
The air contains residual humidity and cigarettes. Who comes down here to smoke?
“Bring back anything?” Aiden’s questions pulls me back from my observations.
I shake my head and step inside. The door closes behind us.
Standing in the middle, I study my surroundings closely, trying to commit anything to memory.
This place is crowded with memories, but that’s not all they were for me. They were precious pieces of my childhood. I’ve been incomplete since I erased them.
Aiden releases my hand, and I feel the emptiness before I can see it. He strides to the corner with purpose and stops in front of the wall.
A shiver races down my spine and creeps into my soul.
Even though he’s facing away, I can almost see that small boy chained to the corner, hungry, thirsty, and bleeding.
God. I don’t think I can do this. I’m tempted to grab him and run away from here.
I want to protect him.
Actually, I wanted to protect him since that first time I laid eyes on him.
I walk towards him on unsteady legs and wrap my arms around his waist from behind.
His warmth seeps straight to my shrivelling heart. I rest my cheek on his tense back, the back full of welts and scars. The strong, strong back that never bowed down.
The onslaught of tears nearly take over. If I give in to it, and to those destructive emotions, I’ll be sobbing all the way to Sunday.
I won’t be that girl.
I’ll be the seven-year-old Elsa who brought Aiden food and made sure he was okay.
I’ll be strong.
“We can do this, Aiden. We owe ourselves that much.”
His hand wraps around mine. “I don’t care as long as you’re with me.”
We remain silent for a moment. He doesn’t move to turn around and I don’t attempt to release him.
“Tell me what happened that night,” I murmur.
“That night?”
“The night of the fire. The night I lost you.” I blow out a shaky breath. “I want to hear it from you.”
28
Aiden
Past
Elsa didn’t show up.
I waited all day, but there’s no trace of her.
The chains clink behind me as I pace the length of the room.
I stare at the arrow she drew on the side of my arm and it’s starting to fade. I want to keep it. Every time I see it, I recall the focused expression on her face when she drew it. The line between her brows. The twitch of her nose.
Maybe she won’t come anymore.
Maybe the red woman hurt her.
I’ll save you. Her soft voice echoes in my head. I promise.
My pace quickens. She promised not to leave me here and I know she won’t.
I sit back down, my gaze locked on the door.
The wound hurts, and I’m warm and hot. Perspiration coats my temple and back. I don’t know if it’s because of the wound or the weather.
My head rests on the cold wall, eyes fluttering closed. Just a second. I’ll remain like this for a second.
I shake my head.
What if Elsa comes when I’m asleep?
She can come now…
Or now…
I must’ve fallen asleep because someone is shaking my shoulders. I tense, thinking about the red woman.
No.
Her hands aren’t soft and small. She doesn’t smell of cotton candy and Maltesers.
The moment I force my lids open, Elsa’s grinning face greets me. Her missing tooth is starting to grow.
She leans down, wraps her arms around my shoulders, and hugs me. Her joy runs in spades between us. Even though it hurts and I’m about to collapse, her energy is contagious. I can’t help but smile despite not knowing what she’s so happy about.
Is it weird that her happiness makes me happy?
“Daddy came home!” She gushes. “I’ll wait till Ma goes to bed and then I’ll tell him about you. He’s going to help you!”
My smile falls.
She frowns. “Aren’t you happy?”
“I am.”
“Then why do you look sad?”
Because if her dad helps me, I won’t see her again.
Mum never spent a day without me, and now that I’ve been away for a long time, she won’t allow me to go outside again. My father will do that, too.
Meaning, I won’t see Elsa any time soon.
“Smile.” She places her index fingers on either side of my mouth and pulls.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask.
She nods frantically. “I don’t want to see you bleeding and cold.”
“If I go, I won’t come back.”
“Why not? You can come back. We’re friends.” Her bottom lip trembles. “Right?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to come back.”
“I’ll tell Daddy to take me to you.”
“Your dad doesn’t like my dad.”
“I don’t care. I like you. Daddy gives me everything I like.” Her fingers run in my hair. “Tonight, you won’t be hurt anymore. Wait for me, okay?”
She reaches into her dress’s pocket and I’m not surprised when she retrieves a small bag of Maltesers and stuffs it in my hand. “I’ll give them to you.”
She stands, then crouches back down and places a peck onto my cheek. “Wait for me.”
I do.
After she’s gone, I sit on the filthy floor, watching the door and the Maltesers she left in my hands.
I’ll eat them when she returns. Maltesers are too sweet and I don’t like them much, but I haven’t told her that. Elsa’s so enthusiastic about them and I like watching her eat them. Besides, she loves it when I share the chocolate balls with her.
My eyes flutter closed and my skin turns warm then cold, but I don’t sleep. I think about Mum and how happy she’ll be when I go back. Maybe Jonathan will take us somewhere and make Mum happy.
The door barges open.
I jump to my feet. It’s not Elsa.
The red woman strolls inside, clutching a horsewhip in her hands.
She’s wearing a long, sleeveless, red dress. H
Like blood.
Mum used to tell me about the power of the darkness. She said the real monsters look more beautiful than angels.
The red woman is as beautiful as the angel in our garden.
I shrink into the corner, tightening my hold on the bag of Maltesers. The sound of the red woman’s shoes comes closer.
“Eli… Mummy is back.”
Her voice is calm and black like winter nights. At times like these, I wish I can feel Mum’s warmth and hear her soft words.
If I pretend to be Eli, she won’t hurt me.
“Did you miss Mummy, Eli?” She stands in front of me, a serene smile on her face.
“I did.” I miss my mum, Alicia.
She crouches in front of me and runs her red nails down my face. Goosebumps erupt in her wake. “I told you not to swim in the lake. Why did you?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“You won’t repeat it, okay?”
I nod, twice.
She smiles and stands up.
Phew. She didn’t get angry this time. I’m about to sit back down when she stops and whirls around so abruptly, I jerk against the wall.
“What is that?” She shrieks, pointing at my hand.
The Maltesers.
I hide them behind my back. “N-Nothing.”
“I told you not to lie to me!” Her voice echoes around us. She grabs my hand, her nails digging into the skin.
I try my hardest to keep the bag of chocolates, but she snatches it away.
“Give it back.” I glare at her. “It’s mine.”
“You ungrateful little bastard.” She slaps me across the face.
I fall to my side onto the hard floor, my cheek stinging.
“I gave you everything, everything! But all you do is lie and play at the lake when you shouldn’t!”
The first lash of the horsewhip lands on my back. Something rips at my skin, and I scream.
“Mummy will fix it, Eli. Mummy will fix everything.”
Crack.
I wail. The pain is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It hurts more than when she cut my arm or when she chained me with the cuff.
“Stop…” I crawl to the corner on all four, shaking all over.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
She goes on and on… and on.
A sticky warm liquid travels down my spine and drips onto the floor.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
My eyes flutter closed and a tear falls down my cheek.
I’m sorry, Elsa. I won’t keep my promise.
29
Elsa
I listen to Aiden’s retelling of that day.
Every word and every sentence is like being stabbed in the gut. It’s like being cut open and left bleeding on the ground beneath us. It’s like being in the middle of an earthquake, buried alive.
We sit side by side on the cold ground without touching. Aiden hasn’t looked at me once since he started talking.
His gaze is lost in the distance as if he’s seeing the events play out in front of him. As if my mother is right there, whipping a small child until he bled and passed out.
He’s watching the corner as if he can see himself; weak, small, and defenceless.
The moment he stopped talking, heavy silence engulfs the room.
Frightening silence.
Earth-shattering silence.
I pull my knees to my chest and resist the urge to hide and cry.
I won’t do that.
This is Aiden’s memory, not mine. He was the one who suffered, not me.
I turn away from him because I know I won’t be able to hold on for long, and I don’t want him to see me breaking.
“Then what happened?” I ask in a small voice.
“That part belongs to you,” he says. “I won’t force you to remember.”
“Okay.” A long breath heaves out of my lungs. “Okay,” I repeat because apparently, my mind is caught in a loop.
“Elsa?”
I’m still facing away from him, so my expression isn’t visible. Is there a way to dig a hole to bury myself in?
“What is it, sweetheart?”
My chest thunders with explosions and sparks when he calls me that. How can he call me that after what happened? How can he look at my face, let alone be with me when I’m so much like her?
His tormentor.
His torturer.
“Elsa, look at me.”
“I can’t. I just can’t, Aiden.” I choke on the words. “What if you eventually hate me? What if one day you wake up and realise you’re sleeping next to a monster?”
“That will never fucking happen.”
“How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”
“Look at me,” he repeats, but this time it’s a low, deep order.
I wipe my cheeks and turn to face him. The depth of longing in his eyes takes me by surprise.
Oh, God.
“Aside from the first time you stepped into RES, I never saw you as your mother.” He takes my hand and cradles it between his strong ones. “You’re the little girl who brought me food and drinks and her annoying Maltesers. You’re not the red woman.”
A sob tears from me, hanging in the air like an axe. “What about in the future? What if you change your mind?”
“Never, sweetheart. Do you know why?” He wipes the tear under my lid and strokes the corner of my eye. “While you look so much like her, you don’t have her empty gaze or her haunting voice. As long as you have this spark in your eyes, I’ll always recognise you as my Elsa.”
Something lifts off my chest even when my heart is being ripped open, bleeding about what happened to him.
I peek at him through my wet lashes. “Can I ask you something?”
He makes an affirmative sound.
“Was I violent back then? I mean, don’t some children that age show signs of antisocial behaviour?”
“Hmm. You weren’t violent per se, but you didn’t forgive injustice. You were obviously a lonely child like me, and that’s precisely why we connected. The difference between us is that you found trouble in controlling and directing your energy. It’s like you were trapped in a reality you couldn’t accept.”
“And you figured all that out back then?”
“No. I studied over the past years.” He taps the side of his head. “This one isn’t empty.”
“Obviously.” I smile a little. “I bet it’s crowded in there.”
“You’re welcome to take a tour any time.” He winks. “Just know it’s not free.”
I smile at the amusement in his tone. “What currency do you accept?”
“Something simple. Sex.”
I push my shoulder against his jokingly. “Does your mind always go there?”
“With you, yes.” He lowers my hand to his trousers and wraps my fingers around an unmistakable bulge. A groan escapes his throat at the contact.
“Here?” I gasp, lowering my voice as if someone can hear. “This is like a torture chamber.”
“We had good memories in it, too.” He grins and his cock hardens beneath my hand. “We can make them better if you open that mouth for me.”
I can say no.
I mean, even he would understand. We were supposed to come here so I’d recoup my memories not so I would suck him off.
However, my mouth doesn’t act as my brain thinks.
There’s this overpowering need to bring him pleasure after all the pain he experienced.
I scramble to my knees in front of him and cup him harder through his jeans. The grunt of pleasure is all I need to carry on. I remove his belt and flip open his jeans with frantic movements. The moment I free him from his boxer briefs, Aiden captures both my hands in one.
“What?” I pant, confused. “I thought you wanted my lips around your dick?”
“And I still do. First, lie down.��
“Why?”
“Do it,” His authoritative tone is hard and raspy.
The air around us ripples with static and pent up desire while I do as I’m told, not sure where he’s going with this.
“Remove your underwear. Do it slowly so I can watch.”
The way he orders me makes me all hot and tingly. Why do his commands turn me on this much?
Hooking my fingers on either side of my boy shorts, I drag them down my legs as slow as I can, getting drunk on the sinful way he watches me. He’s like a predator, ready to jump and feast on my flesh.
Once the underwear hangs from my fingers, Aiden extends his hand. “Now, give them to me.”
I do, and he places them in his pocket like they always belonged there.
Why on earth is that so hot?
Still keeping eye contact, he yanks down his jeans and boxer briefs.
The view of his hard, throbbing cock causes my own thighs to quiver.
He runs a hand from the base of his dick to the top. I’m so enchanted by the view, my mouth parts.
“You’re going to wrap those lips around my cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
I nod absentmindedly, watching the streak of precum glistening at the tip of his cock. I want to lick that, suck it, and swallow it whole.
He lies on the ground opposite me, his dick in front of my face.
“Put your mouth on it.”
I don’t think twice.
With a deep breath, I take him into my mouth as far as I can. I lick and suck him off, my fingers cupping his balls.
I’m barely getting used to his size when cold air tickles my most intimate part. Aiden’s head disappears under my skirt and his lips find my soaked folds.
The intimate contact leaves me breathless for a minute.
“Don’t stop,” he rasps against my entrance, his slight stubble creating harsh friction over my soaked folds.
“I promised you’ll come over my lips while you’re sucking my cock.”
A shiver shoots down my core, making it all slick and sensitive. I use both my hands and lips to lick and stroke his cock.
Aiden feasts on me, teasing the delicate nub before he thrusts in and out of my opening. He’s literally tongue-fucking me.
I’m so full of him it becomes unreal. I don’t stop sucking him, giving it my all despite the amount of stimuli he’s pushing through my body.
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