My father’s voice.
Rough, quiet, and mean.
In the darkness he whispered things to me. I remember them so clearly, even years later. As far back as I try to push them, they never go away. Never.
It’s like it’s happening now. As I close my eyes and meet the darkness of my eyelids.
He’s here.
He’s here, and it’s dark, quiet.
He smells like tobacco and alcohol. Mint washes over me, mouthwash he tries to cover it up with.
He whispers to me that no one can ever know. It’s our secret time together. It’s special. It’s just for us.
He’s so big.
I’m so small.
Everything about him is rough. His hands, his body, the parts of him that I don’t know the names of yet, that he forces upon me.
He touches me. He touches me all over, everywhere. Underneath all of my clothing, even as I beg him to stop. As I start to cry and he scolds me. As he tells me that no one will believe me. That this is what I deserve. What I need.
Every single part of me is violated. Over and over and over again.
Until he’s done.
As I’m pulled back into reality, it feels jarring. I’m no longer small and fragile. No one is touching me but myself. My arms are wrapped around myself, my knees pulled up.
I’m shivering and shaking. Tears staining the knees of my pants.
“No,” I mumble. “That didn’t happen.” I sniffle and wipe at my face with both of my hands.
“He’s… He was a good man, he was good,” I whisper to myself. “He didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t want him to die.”
I huff and push myself up off the floor. My heart is racing, and I hate how weak and powerless I feel.
“I can’t be here anymore, I can’t,” I mumble and start for the door. My foot hurts with each step, but I ignore it.
I need to go somewhere else. Somewhere…darker.
Somewhere I won’t feel so fucking pathetic.
Somewhere I can prove myself. Prove that I’m in charge, Iamthe one leading us into the future. Iwillprotect us.
Anxiety and determination both flood my alcohol-sloshed brain and I head up the stairs to my room.
Everyone must still be having dinner.
Good. They won’t notice when I leave.
I don’t need any questions.
I don’t need anyone right now.
Not them and not Soren.
I quickly pull on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a button up. I may not be suited up, but I still can’t go anywhere without looking put together. I brush my hair as best I can, wash my face and ignore how red my eyes look.
