“Oooh it would smell so bad in there because they don’t brush their teeth. How would we escape?” I asked on the brink of laughing.
“We would get used to the smell and it would turn out this whale loves swallowing random things so there would be a tiny boat that we would get in. And at first we would be scared but then we would hug and feel better, remembering we were still together so everything was as it should be.”
“How would you hug me, Magdalena?”
She met my eyes, smiled , and then wrap her arms around me while holding my gaze. I turned over to my side and hugged her back. “So then the whale would swim closer to the shore, push us out through its spout, and we’d fall back into the water and run back to our families.
“Every adventure with you is the best ever.”
The memory was like a little corner where I could hide from everything that'd happened but as soon as I'd stop remembering, I'd miss her so much it stabbed my heart. I couldn't stand her being so far away and I couldn't stand having killed Mommy. As soon as she started humming again, her voice, her notes would cover me, hide my mind from the cruelty of my reality.Is this the sound of heaven? Do you forgive me, God?
Gratitude at the possibility of being forgiven for my sins, my weakness, the way my body reacted every time he had his way with me, and what I’d done to Mum, maybe even murdering my uncle, it all forced tears from my eyes. They trailed down my temples into my hair, cooling the path on my scalding skin. They consoled me as much as my mum’s palm against my cheek. It was the first comforting thought.I’m finally dying.Thank you, God. Do you forgive me?I asked again in my mind while waiting for all the pain to subside as I died. A part of me floated above my body, weightless.
I’d always pictured God as a male, but all I heard was a little girl’s words in song. The fact that she’d gone from humming to singing exactly when I asked the question again confirmed to me her voice was coming from heaven. It was guiding me to it, like a siren.
Like a siren, she hummed a magical song of comfort that allowed me to remember and experience once again the days Mum held me in her arms and rocked me to sleep.The sun shone through the curtains of the tiny home we used to live in, painting everything with its golden light. Mum was so beautiful. Even when she didn’t smile, I saw the happiness in every curve of her face. Seeing her like this again made my heart ache. I caressed her cheek with my baby hand, and her mouth curved into a smile. I studied her so deeply, fascinated.She leaned into it. “I love you, Killian. My sweet boy.”It had been the best dream I’d ever had.
A bright light attacked my eyes when I opened them for a second, making me flinch. A terrible headache drummed at the beat of my oh-too-slow heart rate. I heard beeping and a man giving orders. My back was on a mattress, not on the frigid concrete. My heart hammered when I realized they were probably trying to save my life.
“You’re not leaving me, Killian!” Master yelled.
“Get his heart under control!” the doctor ordered from much closer, stabbing my eardrums with so much pain that something broke in me and everything disappeared.
My waking was slow and pleasant. Even before I was completely aware, I already knew the fever had broken. I was surprised to discover the humming continued. I opened my eyes to find myself in a different place. It was a huge warehouse with small windows right below the ceiling on all sides. To one side of the large room sat a throne covered with a canopy, all purple velvet. To its left was my prison. Built with thick rusted poles comingfrom the ground and meeting at the top center. I still only had two buckets, no bathroom. There was a door to my prison, but it had a shiny thick silver chain and lock. The enclosure I was in looked like some sort of a giant bird cage. Several meters in front of its door sat a round wooden table on a low stage.
There was no one around me, but I could hear her. Slowly, in tiny increments, every note healed me enough to make every breath I was forced to take bearable.
Several times, I heard Mael yelling, “You fucking cheap whore!” There werethudsthat followed and laughter from what appeared to be his gang of hyenas. “Mael arrêt!” she wailed. “Stop hitting me. Please! Stop!”
“You’re still choosing him! After all I’ve done for you and you’re still choosing him!”
After some time, a door slammed, shoes drummed on the floor, echoing through the place and getting farther and farther away, giving way to her sobbing. “Daddy... where are you?”
I was not of right mind, so I didn’t recognize her voice. I didn’t make the connection that it was her. Maybe I didn’t want to accept that she was there. Still, to bring her out of the dark, I returned her kindness by humming the same song she’d hummed and sang continuously—“Make You Feel My Love.”
It could only get worse. The day her voice disappeared, I felt it at my core that something evil was about to happen. The entirety of the next day, the anxiety and fear churned in my belly. I was nauseous, terrified, and attempted to walk around the cage, but I was so weak I fell again and again. Having to hold onto the rails to complete just a few steps, I wondered what they’d done to her and what was about to happen.
Although it progressed like any day, in the late afternoon, the room filled with men and other boys in robes. It reminded me of that nightmare I always had of the men with the elk heads, except they weren’t in my room. This time, they wore blank masks, with holes only for their eyes and nose. Under the robes, they were all naked. There were at least three hundred people there. Even young boys stood in robes.
Master walked in like some sort of king, with two boys holding his velvet purple cape at the edges to keep it from touching the floor, then he sat at the thrown and acted like everything that was about to transpire was a good old show for him.
I had wondered so many times what the purpose of the wooden table was, until I saw the boy tied down to it. While Master ate from snack trays full of cheese and fruits and drank red wine from a gold-rimmed goblet, I witnessed how the men robbed him of all semblances of life by torturing his body in every way, each and every one of them. Master didn’t look my way once.
Since it was such a big crowd, the majority got bored waiting their turns and spoke of the weather and business while several tortured the boy. The harrowing cries and screams forced me to wince. Some of the young boys glared and sneered at me with clear rage. Mael was the first of them to climb up and mirror what his predecessors did. Even though I’d always hated him, I could not believe what I was watching him do. I still could not accept how right I had been about him. It was obvious how eager he was for his father’s approval, only smiling once Master nodded at him while saying, “Good job, Mael.” Others stood with their hood-covered heads bowed. The next few couldn’t wait to get the act completed so they, too, could have Master’s attention. He praised them for volunteering and looked at the last ones with disapproval. The whole time, I grew more and more nauseous at the thought of having to do anything to that poor boy. Then the guilt settled when he was pronounced dead before the last three boys took their turn.
There was blood all over the table and stage. The room reeked of blood, cum, and my vomit long after they removed his body. It was not an isolated event. It became a pattern they would repeat every three days, then every two, then every day for months. I could tell it was something connected with summer because the warehouse had warmed significantly.
Then there was nothing but her voice again. My mind attempted to ease me into the realization. I started dreaming of Magdalena, thinking of her, remembering how sweet she’d mademy life. When the possibility of her capture invaded my mind, I realized I had no choice; Ihadto live long enough to at least save her from them, which meant I had to submit to him to protect her.
I started consuming food again. Although I had to eat from the dog bowl, the food wasn’t bad. At first, I couldn’t eat much, but eventually, my appetite normalized. At first, I didn’t care to try to gain any empathy from the boy who always delivered my food, but eventually, I tried to gain his attention and persuade him to talk to me. I said, “Hello” and asked, “What’s your name? How long have you been here? Who are you? Were you in the dark room too?” in every language I knew. He never even looked at me. Some days, he would slam the dog bowl with my food so hard that it rattled and most of the water in the other spilled. His attitude gave the message that I didn’t deserve any of it.
“Why do you hate me?” I finally asked one day while sitting on the floor watching him do the same thing he did every day—bending over and throwing my dog bowl. Our gazes locked as he straightened. His eyes were big round and dark brown with thick eyelashes. His hair was straight black and his skin brown. I could tell he was around the same age as me.
“You are not significant enough for me to hate you. He doesn’t make you do all that we have to do. Because you arehis little prince.” He sang the last three words, with his palms in the air. He was angry that I didn’t have to rape, torture, and kill all the little boys being brought in for Master’s amusement? “I survived it!” he screamed as if it was his only outlet for his pain. “Weallsurvived. But you, you’re just his special boy. You never had to suffer the table.” He pointed to it with his arm fully extended behind him.
“He—”
“Master does not allow conversation.” He exited the room.
