I’d try to escape the guilt by falling asleep, even when I wasn’t tired, but then it followed me into my dreams. I’d see her skin covered in flames, melting like my uncle’s. She cried for my help, reaching for me, and I’d run like the coward I was, or try to get to her but fail, like the weakling I was. I’d wake screaming, kicking at the walls, punching to ensure I was not in that dream anymore and to hurt myself.
When my belly started hurting, eating itself from self-starvation, I didn’t care. In a way, it was a relief to finally have the physical representation of the emotional agony I was enduring.
Several times, because of my crying and refusal to eat, I lost my voice and got sick, nearly dying. The fevers were so extreme, bringing me horrid memories of what he’d done to me, what my uncle had allowed.
The prospect of death was my only comfort. It was all I wanted and deserved. When I felt death within reach, it was like the first sunrise in a field of flowers after a storm. It erased everythingand lightened the crushing weight on my soul, but death never came. Why did it keep rejecting me? I grieved being alive. It was the perfect punishment for murder to have to keep living like that.
No matter how much I screamed, cried, or how many times I got sick, time stood still in the dark. There was nothing new for me to see, touch, smell, or hear.
“Killian...” It was Mum’s voice. I was shivering so violently when I half opened my eyes.
“Mommy...” I paused while trying to calm my quaking. “I miss you too much.”
“You must be strong.
“Mommy, I’m so sorry. Please take me with you. Take me with you. I beg you.”
“Shhh... Everything’s going to be fine.” Her palm brushed back my sweat soaked hair.
“No, it’s not. It’s never going to be fine, Mommy. Take m—”
“Who will protect her?” The voice became a whisper, and I knew she was no longer there.
I woke in a fright, gasping for air, and heard his voice as if he were whispering right into my ear. “Beautiful boy…” he sang. I was surprised the door was still shut and he wasn’t right there. It sounded as if he had his mouth pressed up against the door when he said, “Submit to me, my beautiful boy, let me be your master. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
My heart drummed, and I scooted into the farthest corner while shaking my head. “No.” My whisper and breath trembled, even though it wasn’t cold.Never. I’ll never be yours. You sick monster.
The door opened and a stranger entered my cell. He took one bucket and another entered to take the second. Seconds later, cold water slapped my face and body with such pressure I tried running away from it, but there was nowhere to go. Wherever I went, the frigid water followed, pelting my skin and muscles, pressing me up against the wall. The cold temperature gave me no choice but to tense my body. It hurt. They washed me like an animal. Soap was sloshed upon me just as hard and then water again. With my back to the door, my hair dripped and the rest of me shook as I covered my privates.
The light from outside hit my face when I turned. Then his silhouette covered it. He had a towel hanging from his hands. As if he were entering a lion’s cage, he crept with caution and gently placed the towel on my shoulders. “My dear beautiful boy.” There was a smile to his tone.
I froze, staring at the wall in front of me, still holding my balls and dick.
“Tell me. How do you want to do this?”
“I want you to kill me. Right now.”
He chuckled. “That’s a very intelligent answer. But not an option.” His hand landed on my shoulder. “Not when you’re finally all mine. You killed him, didn’t you? Your own flesh and blood… How did it feel to kill your own uncle?”
“It felt great. He was a monster just like you—”
“Yes, I know, you tried to kill me too. I’ll give you a pass for that one. You haven’t been educated yet.” I grimaced when his lips kissed my right shoulder.
He turned me around, and I stepped away, disgusted by him. My back touched the wall, and I swallowed deep as he stepped nearer to me, his face only centimeters from mine. “How shall we do this? Hmm. Will you be my prince? Or shall I force myself on you?”
I stayed silent.
“Fine, forced it is. I was hoping you’d be more grateful since I saved your life.”
I tried to escape him, to recoil from his touch but he trapped me and hurt me. This time there was no escaping, no forgetting. It was all destroying me and my mind as it happened and then it happened. I didn’t think I could hate myself even more, but I did. God, did I.
It was the first time my body had reacted like that. I wasn’t even sure what’d happened, but there was no denying my body had somehow exploded in pleasure, and he was so happy about it. It was impossible to reconcile with what he’d just done to me, but worse, I’d stopped fighting him. How could my body enjoy enduring so much pain? The thought and memory of it forced bile to rise through me.
“You’re amazing. You enjoyed it just as much as I did.” He paused as I gagged. “Don’t be ashamed.” He was embracing me from behind, and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I pushed one of his arms away and escaped his stifling hold. I didn’t get far because many muscles in my body were off kilter.
“It’s perfectly natural. I knew you were special. I knew it from the very first time I saw you.” I vomited at his words, but he ignored it, simply standing and dressing himself.
When he was done, from far away, he said, “Killian, get up.”
