“My beautiful boy. Soon, you’ll be all mine. Only mine. I know it hurts, but you’ll grow to enjoy it.”
I struggled on each breath, and despite whatever it was they’d injected into me and what he was doing to me, it all connected in my memory. I didn’t want to face the fact that this was not the first time. It was all too familiar, like a moment ofdéja vu.
Likehell,theagonywas unending, inexplicable and severe. Fighting for breath, I had to survive every excruciating second of his sick cravings. There was nothing else I could do, no other choice but to endure being used by him. I wanted to die, but my body insisted on fighting to live. Every additional second of it broke me a thousand times more.
Stooooooooooooooooooop!
My voices were nowhere to be found. Eventheyhad abandoned me. I was more alone than ever and could hear and feel everything much clearer than ever before. My skin was more sensitive to his touch than it had ever been to anything else. His gross heavy breaths, grunts, moans entered my mind freely and stayed there.
The one time I would have been grateful for the voices, for their ability to numb me, semi-deafen me, and distract me, they’d disappeared.
Stooooooop! Stooooooop!I screamed over and over as he hurt me to pleasure himself. He winced and his muscles tensed. The only complete thought I could form was more of an emotionthan anything else, a desperation for him to stop.
He murdered my soul in every way possible again and again, but somehow, I was condemned to keep living. He tore my thoughts into shreds until they made even less sense than ever before. My soul and too much of my sanity were shattered until my body acted on its own, and every thought gave into the chaos of pure horror and pain. I was somewhere else and there at the same time. I was bits of myself but a stranger, and all I knew was there was no wayshewould ever love me again. I was losing her more and more; every minute, she got farther away.
Then he finished, got off the bed, and walked out of the room the same way he’d come in. He’d ripped me apart and left as if it had been nothing. I thought it was over. I thought I’d be relieved and free once he stopped, that I’d feel better.
I didn’t.
It was inexplicably worse. Though he was no longer hurting or touching me, I was still in pain in every way. I could still physically feel him. Every cell of my mind, in my body, felt him, but he wasn’t there. The excruciating agony persisted though the one inflicting the torture was gone.
It hurt to breathe. Where before, I couldn’t have a complete thought, after, I wondered why anyone would do this to me. I searched in my memory for the reason, anything I had done that could justify what he’d done to me.
In using me for his amusements, he’d contaminated me with something disgusting and undefinable. Permanently.
Another one of them walked up to the edge of the bed and dropped his robe. I wanted to scream no, but all I could do to communicate my horror and rejection was to breathe harder, faster. That did nothing. He, too, climbed onto the bed.
Kill me now! Mommy, please… I can’t… Not again! Not again!
Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again! Not again!
A horrifying screech filled my ears, and everything froze. It took me too long to realize the scream wasn’t coming from somewhere else, it was coming from inside me.
***
The very next day, I opened my eyes, and the bright morning sun blinded me. Blood, and pain throbbed beneath the bandage wrapped around my hand, and also from several places on my body, including my head.
I gasped at the sight of the bandage. The realization something awful had happened cemented itself in my mind. I searched my memories, but they seemed to be locked away, out of reach. I remembered Uncle telling me to drop the mirror. That’s it.Oh my God, what have I done this time? What did I do?
The elk-headed men… They entered the room.The image came to the surface of my mind. They’d been there.
It hadn’t been a dream. Right?
It’s all real.
“What is?” I asked. “What happened? What did I do?”
You know what you did.
“Nooooo,” I sobbed. “Please no.” I violently gagged, and it weakened me further. No matter how much I cried, I didn’t feelbetter.
I needed to see the only good thing left in my life—my angel.
I could barely walk. My thigh muscles ached so badly I hissed. My body hurt in places I’d never thought much of, and the world swirled with every step, bringing nausea. It was all as it had been when I’d had that sickness weeks before. In the bathroom, I tried vomiting; to push out whatever toxic chemicals were ailing me. It was hard to keep up with everything I needed to do because the image of those elk-headed men leeched into my mind and dragged me back into every detail up until Uncle had slammed my head against the tile. I thought I’d had another episode.Men with elk heads? What the feck?
After failing to vomit, I found the broken mirror, confirming what I remembered. There were pieces of it missing.
I showered, hoping the steam would help me recuperate. There were bruises on my arms, fingerprints in green, yellow, and purple. They’d pinned me down too harshly. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the red water falling from my body to the tub.
