Warning this chapter contains obscene language and violence.
Trigger Warning
The first day back at school was finally over, given I only showed up for the last two periods but it was a fair start. Departing from the building I skillfully maneuvered my way to my car being careful to avoid brushing up against anyone.
A hand shot out from behind me, grasping my wrist to pull me to a stop. My movements halted, brain functioning ceasing, like a thief caught red-handed in the commission of a crime. Except the only thing stolen was any sense of security I had left. Hesitantly pivoting on my heel I faced Lucy, my shoulders relaxed at the recognition of her face, my blood returned to its normal flow. Yanking my hand out of her hold I cradled it softly, my fingers lightly laced around my wrist discreetly trying to soothe the ache emanating from the bruises she unknowingly put pressure on. They were still tender.
“I didn't see you at lunch,” she remarked, skipping the pleasantries all together. I merely shrugged my shoulders in response, tempted to just turn and leave but her constant kindness kept me rooted to my spot.
“Come on Sara, talk to me. What the hell is going on? You can’t honestly be this upset over what Matt said,” Lucy insisted, her patience wearing a little thin at my constant avoidance of her and everyone else. But I just was not in the mood to deal with this or Matthew or her or any of this petty high school drama.
“I’m not. Matt apologized but quite frankly I just couldn't be bothered anymore to deal with his shit. Our arrangement was meant to satisfy our sexual needs and it has out lived its usefulness,” I tried to explain but Lucy nodded encouraging me to keep talking. Internally I rolled my eyes at the fact that she thought she was playing therapist but played along with her confrontation none the less. “I didn't show up till halfway through lunch today and I was so tired that I took a nap in the library before third period”.
“Oh, I didn't realize you still weren't feeling well,” Lucy sympathized, the corners of her mouth turning down a little upset at the realization. “But I’ll see you tomorrow then at lunch?” she eagerly asked, a light aura rolling off of her in waves. But the pleading hopefulness in her eyes seemed forced a blatant attempt to forget my gloomy attitude that dominated the conversation only seconds ago. Lucy wanted things to go back to the way they were, but life does not work that way.
I hesitated before answering, knowing full well that I would not be joining her for idle conversation and pointed stares at lunch the following day, “Umm, sure”. But my answer sounded unconvincing even to my own ears and I noticed the slight smile from before drop from her face, the hopeful look in her eyes diminishing. She was trying to bring me back but my constant resistance was wearing her thin. A deafening silence befell the two of us as kids continued to shout and yell around us. We were at a standstill, both of us painfully aware that I was lying. A group of jocks knocked into Lucy causing her to stumble to the side but she did not turn to see who the culprit was. Neither of us moved, both silently staring into the others eyes, Lucy trying to convince me to change my mind, me trying to convince her to leave the situation be. When the lunch bell rang tomorrow I was going to be nowhere to be found and that was fact.
Breaking away from her penetrating gaze I bade her farewell and headed home. I had won, she had let me go. But somehow my shoulders only slumped further down.
Inserting my key into the front door, I unlocked it and stepped inside. My eyes trained on the staircase directly to my right but a shiver shot down my spine. No, not today. Every day I faced those stairs and tried to convince myself that nothing bad was waiting for me if I ascended those steps but in truth I was too petrified to sleep in my own room when the memories were still so raw, the bruises still present. Instead I flopped on the couch that had become my bed for the past week; my clothes were piled neatly in the corner acting as a makeshift closet so I could avoid the second floor of my house as much as possible. I had become a pathetic excuse of a person.
Flicking on the television I laid on my back staring up at the white ceiling, wondering how in the hell I got here, how I ended up mauled and scarred behind repair. I was probably a really shitty person in my last life that was the only explanation. My mouth tasted of salt and gingerly I touched my cheek feeling the moisture on my fingertips. Great I was crying again.
My black phone beeps signalling a new text but I ignore it, too lazy to move to check. It was probably Lucy trying to reach out to me again. A part of me was touched that she cared about our friendship this much when we weren’t even that close before the whole falling out, but another part of me just wanted her to leave me the hell alone. Why did no one understand that I just wanted to be left alone?
A commercial for Burger King comes on, and I remember that I have not eaten anything all day. Picking myself up off the couch I walk to the kitchen and stare blankly inside of my fridge. There is nothing but a rotten apple and a block of cheese. Dialling from the home phone I order a small cheese pizza and wait.
The doorbell rings and I pay the man for my food giving him a three dollar tip. The smell of melted cheese and pizza dough infiltrates my nostrils and my stomach grumbles in anticipation. Biting into my first slice, I manage to eat half of it before a wave of nausea hits me and I’m tempted to throw up again. Disappointed at my lack of appetite I put the rest in my fridge, hoping I’d get hungry later tonight. Then again hope is for fools.
Flopping back onto the couch I check my phone out of sheer lack of having anything better to do. The television still blares in the background but I am unsure of what show is even playing currently. They all seem trivial to me at this point. My blood runs cold as I see a new message from Christian. I wished that he didn't have the foresight to obtain it last time he has here; his intelligence was something to be afraid of.
I’m messaging you just as promised. See you soon <3
A ghost of a smile touches my lips for the first time this week. It was like he thought we were having a love affair and I was tempted to give into his delusion and play along. It would ease the pain he would inflict if I was complacent, the anxiousness of when he would come for me would disappear. Maybe I could even love him. Why not? He has seen me at my worst and yet he still cares. He would never betray me as long as I never left him again. Maybe this was meant to be my happily ever after. I want to finally have my happily ever after.
A laugh reverberates through my body and I shake my head dismissively. I could never love him.
But running from him at this point will only make it worse and my only other option would be to stay with a friend, at least for a couple weeks till I could change the locks and the alarm code. But even if I wanted to, I didn't have anyone left to turn to. I chose to isolate myself from Iris and Lucy and everyone. I did this. Me. And now there was nowhere left to hide, nowhere to go. All I can do is wait and I am so sick of waiting.
I open a new message to reply, but what do you say to the man who has torn you limb from limb and broken you so thoroughly that no one would ever want you but him. The idea of inviting him over comes to mind and I mull it over chewing on my bottom lip. It would be quicker this way, gentler even, a kind mercy only I could give myself.
Is it okay if I come visit you this time? In two weeks? – Sara
Oh god, what the hell was I doing, I was asking for trouble quite literally but I hit the send button none the less and waited for his response. Whether or not I would actually go was another question that toyed with the possibility of me having already lost my sanity but at the very least it would ensure that I would not have to see him for two weeks. I now had fourteen days to decide what needed to be done and figure out how this was all going to play out.
A big part of me wanted to see him though and that scared me more than anything.
Sure babe, whatever you want. I’ll be waiting –Christian
A surge of anger passes through me, a burning wave of spite caused by his arrogance. At the fact that he had me crawling back to him, at the fact that he was free and I was still trapped, at the fact that he could get away with this, at the fact that my dad chose him over me, at the fact that my mother could no longer look me in the eye, at the fact that I was now a whore, at the fact I was no longer a virgin, at the fact that I was still suffering in silence.
I hate this silence. I hate how it protected not only him but that it was the only way to protect what was left of myself too.
Focusing once more on the ceiling, I exhaled a breath allowing all my thoughts to vacate my body as well with it. Two weeks. I had two weeks.
The next couple of weeks at school passed by in a blur of avoidance and unfocused words. I stopped paying attention in all of my classes and had failed to hand in my latest calculus assignment but to be honest I did not care. School held no significance to me anymore.
Today was Wednesday and it seemed as good a day as any for what I had planned. I grabbed the small backpack that I had packed a couple days ago and slung it over my shoulder. It was fairly light but I didn't need much. Printing out my bus ticket, I stared at the destination printed in black ink: NEW YORK. Back home, back where all this pain began.
Glancing around my living room I took one final look at the desolate house, the furniture barely used and the walls unfurnished. There were no memories to recall or pangs of longing at the thought of leaving. Without sparing a second thought I left the house and turned the alarm on.
The bus ride was long and excruciating. Every minute that I got closer to my destination my anxiousness increased causing me to fidget more and more in my seat. I was so restless. The man seated next to me gave me a pointed stare but I just shot him a glare in return.
At the first pit stop I got off the bus and purchased a pack of cigarettes. With inexperienced fingers I held one of the white sticks in my hands, sucking on the end. I coughed uncomfortably at the smoke that entered my lungs. But after a couple of hits my coughing died down and I could feel the calming affects of the nicotine. When the once long cigarette had become a tiny nub I crushed it on the ground and climbed back on the bus.
With my mind and muscles now relaxed I signed in contentment. Sleep overcame me and I allowed myself to drift into the nothingness of my mind till my journey concluded.
A gruff voice from the speakers awoke me announcing our arrival to New York in a few short minutes. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawned patting the small backpack I had brought in reassurance that it was still here. It was my lifeline.
With lazy steps I exited the bus and hailed a cab down, reciting my destination. The driver nodded in acknowledgement and the faint sound of the radio evaded the space between us. The sky was a mixture of yellows and reds indicating that the sun would be setting soon. Gazing out the window we passed tall skyscrapers and worn down office buildings. The graffiti on the side of underpasses and abandoned buildings gave me a sense of comfort as I recognized a few tags. A fleeting happiness flickered through me, glad that some things never change.
The driver pulled over to the side of the road and I handed him a couple of twenties including a rather large tip for such a short drive before stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Are you sure you want to get off here?” the driver asked, a slight tinge of worry in his tone.
A large grin appeared on my face, “Oh I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Have a good evening though”. Slamming the door shot, I waved to him as he drove off to find another customer.
I was standing right before the Brooklyn bridge. A genuine smile graced my lips as I leaned against the railing and watched the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. This is it. It all ends here.
FLASHBACK
“Come here,” he commanded his voice low and steady. I gulped and quickly approached, running through if I had done anything today to warrant being punished but my mind came up blank. Christian had two modes, the first was more playful and sometimes I didn't mind what he did to me. He would caress my body to his and look lovingly into my eyes; it always brought more pleasure than pain.
But his second mode, like now, he was sadistic and everything he did was all about his gratification. I was merely an object that he used to get off and torture.
My eyes lowered to the floor in submission, waiting for his next instruction hoping he would leave me be for tonight. But reality was a cruel mistress, and certain mercies could not be allowed.
A hard slap hit my cheek causing my face to turn to the left, but I did not move to cradle it instead focusing on the intense stinging emanating from my flesh. “What the hell were you doing with Josh?” he gritted out clearly frustrated with my inability to stay away from the male population. Why couldn't I just behave more?
“Nothing, I swear,” I rushed out trying to explain away any misconceived notions he had. “He was just asking if I wanted to study with him for our biology test next week!” But excuses were pointless; Christian was not the type of person who could admit he was wrong. He was never wrong, only I ever was.
“Yeah?” he asked incredulity, “Did you fuck him in the library?” He practically spat the accusation at me but I merely shook my head in denial, refusing to allow my words to get me into anymore trouble. “Well, I’ll teach you how to behave in the presence of other males. You need to learn this lesson one way or another.”
Christian grabbed my desk chair and sat it in the middle of the room, like it was going to be an exhibition and I was the main act. He picked up my hairbrush from my dresser and sat down. A smirk crawled onto his face as he studied my meek form, having yet to move without his explicit permission. “Bend over my lap now,” he ordered. Hesitantly I stepped closer and draped myself over his lap already knowing what he planned on doing. In one swift move he yanked my underwear down to my ankles and hiked my skirt up to my waist leaving my bare bottom exposed.
Tenderly he caressed my a.ss, rubbing smooth circles along the soft flesh before the hard back of the hairbrush smacked down on my bottom. A yelp escaped my throat without my consent, but the sound did not give Christian any pause.
With more force than the first strike he thwacked my a.ss again, alternating between my left and right cheeks. The pain of my raw ass was starting to become unbearable and I squirmed beneath his hold trying to escape. Tears rapidly flowed down my face and I sobbed uncontrollably.
“Stop, stop, please stop,” I begged, the words coming out between gasps as I tried to catch my breath but Christian held no mercy for me. He hit my a.ss twenty more times, each smack more excruciating than the last. Then, the hits of pain stopped raining down and my motions ceased, the water still freely falling from my eyes.
“Have you learned you lesson?” he asked. I nodded unable to force words out between my cries that wracked my body. “Well, I don’t think you have just yet,” Christian taunted. Then without warning, he shoved the end of the hairbrush into my ass. A scream escaped my throat and my struggles against his hold renewed but his grip was too tight. With slow motions he f.ucked my a.ss, moving the handle in and out. The initial pain subsided and I stilled once more allowing him to have his way with me.
“It looks like you’re getting wet down there, Sara,” he mocked noticing the moistness between my legs. It was not from my arousal though but instead the natural wetness of my v.agina. I made no comment to his remark.
Now that Christian was relaxed and the raw fury had escaped his body, he stopped f.ucking my a.ss with the hairbrush. Instead he pulled his d.ick out of his pants and slowly lowered me down on top of it. “Move,” he commanded, instructing me to do all the work. I was his b.itch, and he wanted me to know that he had complete control over me. With blurry vision from all my tears I moved my hips up and down, praying that his release came quickly.
“What the hell is going on?” a voice screeched from the doorway. I froze my body halting its movement mid thrust as my eyes snapped to the figure that found us. My mother.
“Help,” I pleaded, the word escaped my lips, barely audible but she heard. She pulled me away from Christian and wrapped my mostly naked form in the throw blanket resting on my bed. I cried. Tears of relief poured out of me at the prospect that I wouldn't have to do this anymore, that my body would not be used like this anymore.
Angry words flew out of my mother’s mouth, spitting venom at Christian who was too stunned to defend himself. My mother was visiting her sister and she wasn't supposed to be back till tomorrow, her arrival unsuspected. Thank god, she came back early. Throwing Christian out of my room, she told him to stay in his till my father came home and then they would decide what to do with him.
Tentatively, my mother wrapped her arms around my shaking body and whispered that everything was going to be okay. And I believed her, I believed she would protect me. Delicately placing a kiss on my forehead, she suggested that I should go to sleep and that when I woke up she would have everything sorted. I nodded in agreement, lying down on my bed as she exited my room.
Despite her reassurances, I could not sleep. My mind was running rampant at what could happen next. Hours passed and I heard my father enter the house. With muted steps I left my room and perched at the top of stairs, straining to hear their conversation.
“We need to talk,” my mother stated leaving no room for argument.
“Okay, sure. I’ll just go get changed and you can tell me what is going on,” he reasoned, his voice light and understanding.
“No, now,” she interrupted not allowing him to push the conversation away. “I found Christian raping our daughter,” her voice was weak and tired and I could almost envision her pinching the bridge of her nose due to stress and lack of control.
“What?” he stuttered out in disbelief.
“You heard me,” she harshly insisted unwilling to repeat the sentence.
“Are you sure?” he inquired.
“What do you mean ‘Am I sure?’? Of course I am sure!” The incredulity of his question enraging her.
Silence befell them as they mulled over the situation.
“We’ll talk to him, make sure it doesn't happen again,” my father suggested.
“Talk to him?! We should call the cops and send him to jail!” My mother screamed at him.
“We can’t do that,” he insisted. “His parents asked us to take care of him, we can’t just abandon him!” my father’s voice tried to reason with her. A pang of pain shot through my heart at his words. He wanted to let Christian keep doing what he was doing to me. A fresh wave of tears fell as I realized that I would be stuck under his thumb for the rest of my life.
“If they were alive, they would understand. Their son is a predator and he cannot be allowed to stay under this roof anymore,” my mother insisted and hope swelled inside of my chest.
“But they’re not. We’re going to ruin his life over what? A small misunderstanding? I can’t do that to him, I can’t betray him when everyone else in his life already has!”
“Small misunderstanding?” my mother posed sarcastically, “This is not a small misunderstanding! This is serious! This is about the safety and well-being of our daughter and you don’t even care!”
“That’s not fair, of course I care,” my father claimed.
“Then call the cops or I’m leaving and taking Sara with me,” my mother threatened giving him an ultimatum.
“How do you know this is Christian’s fault? Maybe Sara seduced him? Maybe they’re dating and didn’t want to tell us?” My father threw out any excuse he could come up with to keep us all under the same roof, and I wished that that one of those was the actual truth. It would be easier to deal with than this.
Silence once more engulfed the conversation, my mother refusing to even dignify his answer with a response. Instead she patiently waited for him to answer her question, allowing it to stew in the air as the weight crushed down on me in anticipation of my fate.
“I can’t call the cops,” he finally stated shooting the final arrow into my heart. With that one single sentence the James family was destroyed and I knew that even if he apologized that things would never be the same between us again.
“Don’t call me unless you change your mind,” my mother warned effectively ending the discussion.