Blinking and peeling my wet eyelashes open, I watch the pink-tinged water roll down my legs, sliding around my mangled ankles and pooling at my feet before slipping down the drain effortlessly.
I knew where the blood was coming from, the cramps still present, dull and subtle, and I’m afraid,so afraid.
Cuts, lacerations and tears will all eventually heal. Scars will be left in the wake of the ones that were carved into my flesh deep enough. Only the way they tore me apart,from the inside, that…I will never heal from.
I wanted to step outside of my mutilated body…I wanted to leave it behind.
Tears mingle at the surface of my now clouded eyes as I try to swallow down my raging emotions. I always wanted to be a mother one day, to have a family, to hold my children the way my own mother did. My personal beacon of light,I wanted to be theirs.
And without confirmation,I know they took that from me too.
They took everything.
The little girl I once was, and the woman I wanted to be,the mother I needed to be.
Theydestroyedme, my dreams, and any hope I had for my future.
I am the jagged remains of their torture.
An angry tear rolls down my cheek, and I shove it away, snatching up the vanilla body wash sitting on the recessed panel in the wall. I move through the rest of my shower as quickly as my tired body will allow.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I became a stranger to myself when I was raped, beaten, and tortured.
This was so much worse than murder,than death, because now, I had to find a reason to take my next breath.
I flex my toes, feeling the mutilation and bare bones at my ankles, wiping away the tears gushing down my cheeks in heavy streams.
Will I ever be able to dance again?
Slamming my forehead against the tiles with a loud, resounding thud, another whimper leaves me, and then I fall, crawling back into the corner, holding myself through the storm.
Ihaveto find a way todance again.
“Whether you’re happy, you’re sad, or you’re hurting, and the weight of the world feels a little too heavy on your shoulders. Baby, you dance and you do it unapologetically. Let the music heal you through your emotions. Give it the space to guide you out.”
For her,my mother.
For me,the girl I used to be.
The woman I wanted to be.
Ihavetodance again.
Because that’s all I have left.
And maybe, just maybe…it will guide me home.
After caring for my wounds and redressing them, I slipped on a fresh pair of black leggings, followed by an oversized red sweater with the intention of keeping the filth marring my skin in the dark.
I knew my brother was watching—the constant side-eye on the drive out here was intentional—and he didn’t stop even when I told him to. He was sniffing them out. I had convinced myself that he could smell them,and I had to be careful.
My matching socks brush across the light gray timber as I tread the length of the hallway before opening into the mouth of the small living room.
Music drifts from the floating speaker that sits below the large TV mounted on the black painted wall. It’s not too loud, just background noise, making room for what must be Caleb’s laugh as it echoes from the balcony. It sounds so warm, so whole. It reminds me ofhis.An angry chill slithers across the back of my neck, cascading over my limbs. I curl my fingers into the sleeves of my sweater, pulling the fabric over my knuckles and swallowing the dead hope I clung to when I losteverything.
Harlen did exactly what I knew he would.
