Enjoy the final installment of the secret bully!
Sometimes I felt weak and helpless, lost. In those moments I would search for his warmth and snuggle close, moving as slowly as possible to not wake him. He could never know I did this. It made me wonder how he would react. Would he freeze up and push me away? Or in the darkness of night would he pull me against him until we both fell asleep. I was too much of a coward to find out. All I could do was breath in his scent until my racing heart slowed and I could finally roll over to go back to sleep. Back to the demon in my dreams.
After a few breaths, I pulled myself together and did just that. I rolled back onto my side of the bed as my eye lids felt heavy once more. Once they drifted closed the dream started all over again, as it did every night.
"You worthless son of a fucking bitch!" The small man pulled out his belt and commenced the beating.
It was like a Shakespearian play that had been played a thousand time. I knew my lines by heart now as dream me cried. "I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!"
My cries fell on deaf ears as the man above me raged. There was no stopping him once he started. My only hope was that no one would walk in and see me like this. But like every time I've dreamt this scenario right on cue one of the maids enters and sees me, a grown man sobbing on the ground as he is brutally and shamefully beaten.
"Ricky..."
"Ricky..."
I try to reach out to the voice that calls me. The one that is saving me.
"Ricky, wake up." Sams voice finally reaches me fully and I jolt awake.
I touch my hand to my face and feel the tears there. Still a bit disoriented I look at Sam's face, the pitty I see there snaps me back to reality and my face pales.
He saw me crying.
Sam caught me crying in my sleep.
He saw me breaking down from that nightmare.
"Get out!" My shame turned to rage in an instant. An uncontrollable, untamed rage.
The look on Sam's face turned from pity to the same fear I've seen on his face so many times, the same fear I have seen on my own so many times.
"I-I'm sorry Ricky. I didn't mean-" he began to stammer out any excuse to quell my anger but in this moment, like so many others, it only angered me further.
That look of pity on his face, the same one all the adults around me gave me growing up when they saw me bruised, walking with a limp, or silently crying on the ground. But not one of them did a damn thing to stop him! They all fucking let it happen! My rage spiked once more as the memories came flooding in. Sam was the only one around. The only one to take the blame for my past now. I didn't see Sam. I saw him, I saw that man and all those servants pitying me.
Sam froze up at the look on my face. He knew this look. I wasn't hearing him or seeing him. He could beg and cry all he wanted but it wouldn't matter. Just like it didn't matter for me.
I shoved him off the bed and onto the floor in one swift motion. The man was twice my size but he never once fought back. He quickly assumed a fetal position on the ground as I spotted my belt from yesterday. I picked it up quickly and set about releasing my anger the only way I knew how. Sam covered his face with his arms to brace himself. I didn't bother aiming for his head and exposed back. I knew where it really hurt. Like a skilled torturer, I swung at his bare feet and exposed arms. Over and over I swung until I grew tired of the sound of leather hitting flesh. It wasn't satisfying the rage. I needed something more. The sounds of leather on skin halted for a moment as I turned the belt in my hands. Now with the buckled end, I resumed my strikes.
