I turned back to him as the woman turned the water to a nice warm temperature and gently put my hands under it. The sting felt good this time around.
Everett crouched down on Steven’s left side and picked up the knife, my heart skipping a beat. “He beat me,” I told him, my voice wavering but strong.
Everett’s eyes lifted to mine, that chill so cold it made me shiver.
I swallowed, the tears burning my throat. “He beat the shit out of me all the time. He made me have sex with him when I didn’t want to. He hated me and I don’t know why. I did everything right. I always did everything exactly how he wanted and he still…he still beat me.”
He studied me for a long time before turning back to Steven. He admired the ring before setting it on Steven’s chest, and then he placed the tip of the knife right in the center of that ring.
“Everett,” the female warned. “You wanted him for answers,remember? You wanted him alive.”
He paused long enough to look the woman in the eyes before they flicked to mine and finally to Steven. He held the hilt of that butcher knife tightly in his hand, the tip pressing into the center of Steven’s chest, the bloodied ring glinting.
Everett lifted a hand and slapped the shit out of him, his head rocking to the side.
Steven jerked awake, immediately crying out, his hands instinctively reaching for the blade of that knife, his eyes wide. “Wh-what are you doing?”
Everett leaned over him and smiled an evil smile. The kind of smile that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my days. “I just wanted to hear you plead for mercy before I shove this ring straight into your heart.”
Blood poured from Steven’s hands as he shook his head, kicked his feet. “Come on, man, please,” he begged. “Please!” he cried out.
But Everett only leaned back on his heel, gave him a disgusted look, and slid that knife straight down as if he were cutting through nothing but snow. As if Steven’s hands, his bones, his muscles, meant nothing.
I flinched but I didn’t look away. I wouldn’t. I needed to see this. I had to see it.
I wanted to see it.
Steven’s hands and legs fell limply to the floor, blood spreading out from his head wound and now across his shirt. His eyes stared up, unseeing, his mouth parted in a silent scream.
He would never touch me again. Steven would never touch me again. I would never shed blood for him again.
Everett jerked the knife out, the ring gone, and leaned forward, placing the blade of the knife right between Steven’s lips. He began slicing down towards the neck, the sounds filling the room, drowning out the water.
I watched until he reached up to pull his bottom jaw down and then I had to look away. My heart was thudding, my stomach fluttering, my hands shaking, but not for any rational reason.
The woman was right, I shouldn’t have watched that. I never should have looked because it caused something inside of me to stir that shouldn’t have been stirring.
The woman carefully dabbed the sides of my face with a warm cloth, trying to wipe away the blood. “It’s not deep,” she said softly.
She shut off the water, the sound of cartilage cracking meeting my ears. “Come on, let’s go to the living room. I’ll get the first-aid kit.” She pressed some paper towels to my hand and led me away.
17
Olivia
May 21st, 2022
Ifelt numb.
I was barely aware of the woman cleaning the cut on my hand and on my head, on my face, sanitizing them, bandaging them.
The sound of squelching and slicing was distant.
I couldn’t see him doing anything. The entrance to the kitchen was off to one side, so from where I sat on the couch, I could see nothing. Not one thing.
What happened?
Whatwashappening?
