Invisible

JEREMY

I FEEL THE CAR STOP, open my eyes. Mark turns off the engine as I look through the windshield. The Jeep, fire stickers, beer stains…

My heart stops.

Bark met my face…

“How long is he staying?” I ask, frozen in place as I keep staring at the truck.

His fists…

Mark sneers at me, eyes narrowed, hands clenching into fists.

 Leaves, dirt, everything hit me…

“Emma,” he responds as he opens his door, steps out of the truck, “I’m not arguing with you. Get out.”

Pain growing deep, so much of it I couldn’t scream anymore…

My gut bursts again, pain cutting deep down. I don’t know what to do, say. I could defy him, but what would that do? Another court ruling? She cuts herself, so she deserves to be in an environment with her parents.

My only parent died a long time ago…

I grab my duffel bag off of the floor, step out of the truck, and walk slowly toward the front door. As I walk into the foyer, I try not to remember anything that’s happened, brush it off as if I can just get rid of the nasty feeling I have.

That won’t work very well, not with Jeremy being under the same roof as I am. 

I walk into the living room, set my duffel bag down onto the sofa. Try to keep quiet, just in case Jeremy is upstairs, waiting as he always is.

Mark has other plans.

“We’re home!” he yells as he walks past the threshold to the living room, toward the stairs. I hear massive footsteps, thumping too quickly, in tune with my heart. Jeremy’s head pops out of nowhere, the kind of thing you’d expect out of a horror movie.

Try living in one. It’s more fucked up than you’d think.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Jeremy says as he walks toward me, wrapping his arms around me. I try not to cringe, try my hardest to remember what he told me he’d do if I didn’t do what he wanted.

Don’t you dare call me that.

He pulls away, leaving his stench, something I could have lived without. I frown as I resist eye contact. I don’t want to see what he’s thinking, break him down and watch what’s playing in his head. I already know what it is… it’s playing in mine.

 His body was pressing onto me.

“How long has it been? Last summer?”

I nod, my stomach twisting, fear surfacing. He’s going to do something to me… I can feel it.

 I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth…

“How have you been?” he continues, smiling at me. It’s the same crooked smile that turns me inside out. He’s trying to fuck with me, is barely failing at it. I gulp.

How do you think I’ve been?

I shrug, stare at the carpet. Off-white, just as I remember. Plain and simple, slightly lighter than the new sofa.

Mark’s fiancée messed this place up.

And somehow my lungs refused to work.

“Well, I’m fine,” he says. I can feel his eyes cut me open, dig deep down. I can imagine him weeding me out, tearing me apart just to get what he wants. I have to give it to him, so there’s no point in caring about what he’s going to take. “I’m staying here for the summer since my roommates are getting fed up with me.”

As if they’re the only ones…

I nod.

Mark walks past the living room, toward the front door.

“I’ll be back,” he says as he opens the door, walks outside. I hear his truck start, pull away from the house, leaving me in Jeremy’s arms.

Lucky me.

Jeremy looks me up and down, tries to decide what he wants to do. Then his eyes warn me (remember what’ll happen if you tell anyone, remember what I‘ll do).

“You know,” his arm slips around my waist, squeezes me tightly, and he whispers into my ear, “You’re way hotter than I remember.”

I think of my mother, Michelle, my grandfather. I guess that’s something to live for, something to get me through what’s about to happen.

When he puts his hands on me, my body stiffens, throat burns. It wants me to scream, say something.

 And then he was inside of me, and everything turned black, blurred together…

I can’t.

Then his lips press to my ear. “You know what I want,” he whispers.

I keep my mouth shut, kindly obey him. Nothing I can do about it anyway. Mark didn’t do anything about it, so who would?

I lead him upstairs, into my bedroom. He closes the door silently as I set my duffel bag onto my bed. Then I hear the door lock, and he smirks as he turns toward me.

“Come here,” he says as he walks toward me, his arms held wide open, “it’s been a year since we’ve done this.”

I grind my teeth together. He said we, as if I have something to do with this. I don’t remember asking, don’t remember trying. I just remember him taking it from me.

I tried to think about all of the reasons why I could live through this.

I walk toward him, let him wrap his arms around me. His hands smear across me, stain every part of me. I feel my body pulling away, a natural reflex…

I have to stop myself.

But he seemed to have overwhelmed them all.

“Good,” he says, smiling a genuine smile. I guess he’s happy I’m letting him take over me.

After a few moments, I hear Mark’s truck outside, and Jeremy pulls away, his fingers stroking my hair. I shudder.

“Do you remember what I said would happen if you lied again?” he asks.

I stare at the carpet again, concentrate on something else other than his eyes. He grasps my arms, shoves me back and forth. “Do you remember what I told you?” he asks, anger growing in his voice. I stare at him, my eyes trying to cut into his hollow center. There’s nothing to look at, nothing to see. He tightens his grip as I nod.

“Good,” he continues, pushing me down to the floor, “then I won’t have to remind you.”

He grins, unlock the door, tells me he loves me, that we’ll spend more time together later. I gulp as I stay on the floor for a moment, in case he comes back. Then I stand up, stare at my duffel bag.

When he was finished, he told me he loved me…

I walk toward it, open one of the small pockets.

Told me how beautiful I was…

I pull one of my razors out, walk into my bathroom. Nasty film all over me, peeling my skin away, trying to make its way deeper in order to kill me.

Told me my boyfriend didn’t stand a chance…

I need to cut it away, need to keep it away.

And the sick thing was he was right… Nothing stood a chance with me anymore.

I lift my shirt over my head, press the blade to my side.

You’re so beautiful…

You don’t have to be.

I slowly pull the razor, smile as blood draws, drips down to the hem of my shorts. My smile scares me… It’s so vicious, I can’t even recognize myself.