Invisible

YEARNING

YEARNING

MARK’S CALLED ME THIRTY TIMES OVER THE PAST FEW DAYS. I stare at my phone as Aiden looks outside into my mother’s old yard, the same place we were sitting yesterday. When he looks up at me, I feel his eyes stabbing though my skin.

“What is it?” he asks

“Mark called me…” I trail off, “and Jessie.”

He’s silent, his muscles tensing. His expression worsens when I put the phone to my ear, call Mark back.

“What are you do—”

“Shh,” I reassure him, “it’s fine.”

I wait for him to answer, his voice hot and angry as he answers.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he yells, “I fucking told you not to spread your stupid shit, and now Jeremy’s in prison. And your boyfriend is going to fucking get time for beating his ass. I hope you realize I’m going to make it happen.”

I smirk. “Mark, you don’t scare me.”

“What did you just call me?”

I laugh. “I called you Mark. That is still your name, right?”

“How dare you disrespect—” Jessie’s voice cuts him off. She wants to talk to me, Mark telling her everything’s fine.

It’s nothing.

Still, somehow, she manages to get the phone.

“Emma,” she says as she answers, “what’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Jessie,” I say, feeling a little sympathetic that she has to lose her son over me.

Then I realize it’s not over me.

“Is what you said true?”

I take a deep breath, let the truth out.

“Yeah, he did.”

There’s a long silence, but after a while, she breaks it.

“Does Mark know about this?”

“I don’t know,” I lie, “Ask him.”

“Alright.”

I wait for Mark’s angry voice, and it comes. Hard. Screams and shouts, saying she’s lying she’s a damned liar just wait until I get a hold of her!

Then I wait for Jessie to agree, to say I’m lying, I don’t know what I’m talking about.

But that doesn’t happen.

 “How the hell could you believe him over your own daughter?!” Jessie yells.

What?

“What?!” Mark yells.

“Did she just agree with you?” Aiden asks, his eyes widened, stunned. I shrug, listen.

“I know it may be my son,” Jessie continues, “but how could you be so selfish not to listen to your own child? I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t know if Jeremy—”

“Oh! So you let a rapist around my daughter?!” Mark responds.

My eyes widen, anger boiling over, and I say, “Jessie, let me talk to my father.”

Without hesitation, I hear Mark’s voice, spitting a wimpy hello at me. I smirk.

“How dare you?” I ask.

“What are you talking about?”

“How dare you blame her for this, Mark?”

“Oh, so you’re saying this is my fault?”

“I told you! You didn’t listen! Who else’s fault could it have been?!”

“Maybe Jessie’s?”

“No. That’s the wrong answer. See, she didn’t completely ignore her son. Not completely. Her son didn’t blatantly tell her he was raped. And if he did, she certainly didn’t ignore it. But Mark, you did that. You did that to your daughter. So when you want to blame someone, blame yourself.”

“So the fact that she didn’t raise her—”

“Are we even talking about that? No, we’re not. We’re talking about you being a rotten parent, you telling me I’m lying about being raped just so you could stay with Jessie. That has nothing to do with how she raised Jeremy.”

There is silence. Utter silence. I smile.

“Do you want to know how many times he did it to me while you were at work, with your friends, or, my favorite, wedding planning?”

“No.”

“Over thirty times. He told me if I didn’t do what he wanted… he’d hurt my little sister. Can you hear me? He was going to rape my little sister!” Tears again, the nightmare playing over and over again. “If you had listened, it would have only been once with me. So don’t tell Jessie she’s wrong. Because when it comes down to it, she’s not. You are.”

I press End.

End of discussion.

Sadists, rapists, murderers, sinners, deadbeats.

I am done with all of them.

I just want my life back.