But it's only today that I understand what her brand of good demands—the price of my soul.
I'm almost paralyzed as I wait for her to finish whatever she's doing. I keep my eyes closed and envision all the ways I would make her suffer—destroy her so she'd never come near me again.
And yet I know that it can never come to pass… and that tomorrow this will happen again.
As time goes by, it gets harder and harder to put on a happy face and pretend I'm normal. Even my school friends abandoned me when they realized I'd become too closed off. Not that I cared too much since it meant less effort on my part—less pretending.
I even stopped going out of the house if it wasn't completely necessary, because having a pretty face means that people will swarm around me with fake intentions.
My only source of solace is my little sister—the only one who still has the power to make me happy.
But as she grows… I have to wonder if she too will start looking at me differently… less brotherly. Mother's already done it, what's to stop her from doing the same?
The nights continue as they have before, but soon I find myself better at controlling my body, at not letting her win. At some point, I manage to hold back my ejaculation, and no matter how much mother tries to coax a reaction out of me, how much she tries to make mefeel good, it doesn't work anymore.
But while I hoped this would deter her, it only gave her other ideas.
That's what I realized when one night, I found myself pinned to the bed, with mother's naked body straddling my lower half.
I don't move as I watch her hands work my dick, my wholeattention concentrated on not showing any weakness, on not giving her what she craves.
But this time, instead of trying to rouse me with her mouth, she changes tactics. She grinds her already wet genitals all over me, the sensation sickening. But no matter how much she tries to get me to react, my dick is still limp.
Just as I think she's going to give up and leave, she whispers those dreaded words again.
"I'll make you feel good, Enzo. Just this time," she says as she strokes me, her fingers wrapping around my flaccid shaft and guiding it towards her entrance.
It's like my entire brain goes off with trigger warnings, the knowledge of what's about to happen dawning on me.
For the first time, I stop pretending.
She's struggling to fit me into her opening when I jolt off the bed, my hands shoving at her shoulders and pushing her off me. My eyes go wide as I see her fully for the first time, naked on the floor, her expression flabbergasted.
"Enzo, honey..." she stammers. "It's not what it seems." I'm staring at her in horror, at the act that was about to happen just now.
"Out." My voice is small, almost trembly, but as disgust fills me and threatens to spill over, I gain the courage to command her: "Get out!"
She scrambles back, picking up her discarded dress before leaving the room.
And I'm left staring at the shadows on the wall…
29
ENZO
"How long areyou going to mope around on my couch,mon cher?" Maman Margot pulls open the blinds, and sunlight assaults my sensitive eyes.
How long has it been since I arrived at her place? Two days? Three? I've spent the entire time at the bottom of a bottle, so I haven't been keeping track.
"Maman, please," I groan, shielding my eyes with the back of my hand.
"Enzo, you know I love you,mon fils, but you need to go. I haven't seen Alfredo in a couple of days, and it's all because you've laid siege to myboudoir. I get you're frustrated since," she narrows her eyes at me, regarding me pitifully, "you're not getting any, but now you're making sureI'm not getting any either."
"Water," I croak, andMamanjust shakes her head, tossing me a bottle of water and some ibuprofen.
"At first, I let you be since I thought this was all aboutta soeur,but it's not just that, is it?"
Taking a seat across from me, she pours some vodka into her cup and brings it to her lips.Maman'salways started her daywith a rejuvenating dose of vodka, but this time, I find the smell of alcohol repulsive, my nose scrunching up in disgust.
