Biographical Non-Fiction posted November 23, 2023 | Chapters: | ...4 5 -6- 7... |
The guilt, the void, the shame, the filth
A chapter in the book Spectre
The Void
by Lea Tonin1
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.Trip and slip the bleeders call
Skip and clip the wound gives all.
Scratch and cut my life blood flows
Without the love then nothing grows
Pinch and slap then tie the limb
Body aches inside it's grim
Taken flesh burns and twists
What is best? The rape or fists?
************************************
The hardest part at this point in my life, I wrote and yet more needs to be said. I feel on the one hand, drained empty and a little scared but, with a dash of hope too. It's a strange mix really.
We continue to be cold and clear here on the coast. Not normal in rainforest country.
I imagine it too will break and rain will follow. Snow is now not the norm. We may get a skiff some winters and others, nothing.
But when the flakes fall, magic happens. The tiny little frisbee's have the most intricate designs each unique unto themselves.
No one flake is the same.
I watch them sweep gently across the sky as to pick its landing on the slow descent. I like to watch them come slipping down, a gentle kiss upon landing. They're like dancers on the air, swaying back and forth waltzing toward ground for a gentle landing.
Mesmerizing in its quiet muffled chior, I know it's time.
It's time to go back again. Time to go back to her...she's curled in a ball in the closet underneath the stairs.
Let's see her...let's visit her next choices or lack there of.
I wish I could say that was over, but it wasn't.
She's seek the din and welcomes the void....
*****************************
I woke to the sound of my friend's voice.
"You can come out now. She went go work."
I looked down upon myself. Barely registered that I was still in the clothes I had on yesterday. My ankles and my wrists felt sore. A low throb down below still held purchase. I came out of the closet and asked,
"Please, may I bath? I have to bath?"
"Fer sure. You know where it is." E replied.
I went into the bathroom and turned on the tap water as hot as I could stand it. My eyes were strangely dry as if I cried every tear I possessed. My heart and my mind were numb. I checked my feelings...nothing except the express need to wash myself. I pealed everything off as quick as I could, almost as if the clothes were made of acid. I stepped into the steaming water and sat down. I felt the sting of the water as it washed over my nether regions. I grabbed the bar of soap and began to scrub. Hot water turned my skin pink and the vigorous rubbing turned it red. Gingerly, I washed my private area and then wrapped my arms around me knees and began rocking in the water. I looked down at my wrists and noticed that bruises circumferenced my wrists. My ankles showed similar marks as well.
Slowly but surely, I retreated into my mind allowing my body to be a living automaton.
Finally I was in the void. There I'll stay until the pain leaves, maybe not even then.
I don't know how long I sat there rocking. Outside myself, someone was talking to me. It was E.
"The water's getting cold. You gotta get out of there. You've been in there for over an hour and I need to use the toilet."
I continued to rock back and forth. E's entry barely registered. She started to shake my shoulders until finally, I turned my head to look at her.
She looked like a beautiful demon.
"Alright." She said. "Let's get you out and dry you off."
The tub drained out the whirlpool of last night as she dried me off and put me in her house coat.
"I was gonna say we have to go out tonight, but I don't think you're up for it. We'll have to go tomorrow night though." E said.
Her words sounded just like Lucy on Charlie Brown.
"Bwa ba bwa bwa bwa."
That was all I heard. She steered me into the kitchen sat me down and passed me a bologna and lettuce sandwich with a glass of milk. "Eat up." She said. "You need to refuel."
I slowly nibbled on the sandwich. All I tasted was cardboard.
I knew E was talking to me but all the words jumbled together until I heard her say,
"Look, I get last night was hard on you. I didn't know you were a virgin or it wouldn't have been like that. I thought you were willing."
I just stared at her. What could I say to something like that? I could stare at her or I can freak out and we know what the latter does.
"I'll call the guys and tell them you need the night off." E said.
"Call the guys? The night off? Wha...?" I thought.
Then I slipped back into myself again.
"Ok." E said. "You looked wasted. Think you should go back to bed. Just don't come out until I call you."
She passed me a small bucket.
"Just in case." She said.
Docile, I crawled into the closet under the stairs. There I sat rocking back and forth for what may have been five minutes or five hours.
I just didn't know nor cared. At some point I fell asleep and slipped onto my side. Here it came!
Nightmares....A man inside me! My stepfather slammed his giant fist into my head over and over. There is no control over panic or fear. In my dream, I curled up into a ball. My stepfather kicked me over and over along with K his new helper. This was a new addition to an old but powerful nightmare. The new feature in my dark dream. My eyes popped open and saw...nothing. Not even my hands in front of me.
My face was wet. I was crying. My feelings were back to my relief. Although I'm still separated somewhat from myself, I was, at least, coming back. I fell asleep again and this time, mercifully free of dreams.
The nightmare never goes away though...
This time, it's waiting for me to wake. Waiting to begin the struggle of being...or not being.
*****************************
Now I feel tired. I admit that. I feel tired and I also admit to some recurrences of the old nightmare visiting me of late.
This is not unexpected. These are things I knew would happen along the way.
The roller-coaster of emotion, waits for its passenger.
The nightmare of what was, so much closer to the door than it had been in a very long time.
The old rage rises, pissed that those memories still have such strength. My angry friend took my hand, pushed me and dragged me through it all has arrived again. So close now.
So my old foe and my old friend meet up for the game. But this time, it's in my head.
I take a deep breaths and I wait for the shudders to pass. Usually works unless my dream is prophetic, then there's no such thing as sleep...it's a non entity.
Finally, laying back now I consider this chapter as it's written.
I'm looking for spelling errors. Although my punctuation isn't the best.
My writing just flows sometimes faster than I can keep up. It's literary ink has been unplugged.
Remember what you wish for....
Post Number 200 A Milestone Post |
This story is part of an autobio called Spectre book two of the series. Book one is Ghost and can be found on my port folio if you wish to read. A word of caution, some chapters are heart to digest. reader discretion. Is advised.
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