“One time, when I was your age, my brothers and I were walking around the park. We were walking through the woods, and you know what we found? In that nice, fake, goodie good town?”
I shook my head. “What did you find?”
“We found a body hanging from the tree.”
I gulped. “Really?”
“When you’re fourteen, it’s a bit of a shock. But to me, I didn’t feel anything. He was dead. I didn’t care. Isn’t that scary? I didn’t care. My brothers cried and scream.”
“Why didn’t you care?”
“I didn’t know him. Why should I?”
I shrugged.
“Have you ever seen a dead body, Tavi?”
“No.”
“It’s really peaceful. I envy them.”
“Why, you’re alive, and they’re not.”
He shrugged. “I don’t wish to kill myself, but I would like to be peaceful like him.”
He had one too many drinks. I had one too many drinks. The conversion was getting blurry. I don’t remember what all he was saying. He asked me, “Why do you trust her. Your little friend. You just met her, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “She was so trustable, that’s why.”
His eyes seemed black, evil looking. “I heard a lot of giggling from you two that night.”
“Yeah, we were having fun.”
He tighten his jaw. He walked closer to me, took the chair from across me, and asked, “What were you doing?”
“Painting the walls,” I told him. I started to feel sick, the back of my hair standing up.
“You told her about that time, I saved you from that guy?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking another sip. I felt so dizzy, so out of it.
“So, what did she say when you told her?”
“Well, she felt really bad about it, so she kissed me to make up for that first kiss,” I said looking away for a moment. When I turned back at him, I was met with a fist in my eye. Hope ran off and I hit the floor hard. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think straight. Everything just happened so fast.
I looked up to him, holding my eye. It was swelling. I crawled back and stumbled to my feet.
“Go! Get out of my sigh” he screamed. “NOW!” he screamed so loud that the whole house shook.
I stared at him for a second. I felt so numb inside and dead. I wasn’t there. I ran to my room taking the kitty with me. I slammed the door and cried but stopped after a few minutes. I was trying to collect everything that had happened.
The abuse, the mental games, it was getting old quick. I needed to find my place. I needed to find my head. I wanted to scream. So I did.
I hit my door really hard out of anger and let out a little scream. I was just really tensed, and tired, and on edge. He heard me banging on the door.
I hit it a few more times with an open hand. I like the way my hand stung. It felt good, but it was painful. It was weird, but oddly, I liked it. Maybe because it was the pain that I was in control of, that I gave myself it, and not him.
“Excuse me!” I heard him screaming, stomping up to my door.
At that moment, all the fear left and drained out of me. I stood up, and banged on the door as hard as I could, and a voice sprouted through the cracks of my voice box. A voice that should have crawled out earlier, it was a weapon, a brave tone. “I hate you! I hate everything about you!”
I opened the door, and he looked beat red. I saw that monster starching in those eyes of his, I saw those eyes turn from something that could have been so kind, and so loving, and turned into something so disgusting, so fearful.
A monster that was all he was. He was about to scream at me, about to turn my world upside down, but I beat him to the spot. I was not the shy little girl anymore, I was fighting for myself
“Hit me! Do it! You have taken everything away from me! You have ruin my life, but guess what? I don’t care anymore! You get that? I don’t care! You can hit me, you can beat me, and you can drag me down to your little game, William, but guess what! You’re not going to hurt me! Because of you, that girl that you kidnapped from the coffee shop, she’s dead, she’s dead the moment you drugged her! You can’t do anything to her! So do it!” I screamed at him. I banged on my chest. “Hit me!” I screamed, this time at the top of my lungs, louder than he had ever screamed. “Hit me!”
He looked at me, with no expression on his face. When he didn’t scream, and instead tried to reach out to gently touch my black eyes, I just shook my head and stepped back. “Don’t, touch me,” I growled at him. “Hit me, beat me, whatever, but don’t you dare try to touch me again like you care about me.”
I tighten my lips, and waited for him to shoot me, for him to scream at me, for something to happen. But nothing happened.
He simply walked away, and in a way, that was the time he had hurt me the most.
ns 18.68.5.118da2
