Perfect Imperfections

Chapter 8: BROKEN

ELAINE BARKER, MATTAPAN

Have you ever met the devil?

Well I have. Many times people think the devil will come to you with horns and protruding teeth with sharp claws and a menacing laughter but no he comes as that woman or man that you love most or as that stranger that gives you a lift only to never be seen again or maybe that girl that walks by the bar swaying her hips in that micro mini dress. For my case, the devil was my brother, Evan Barker, a mascular twenty two year old with shoulder length blonde hair and crystalline blue eyes just like mine. One moment he was standing by the pool holding a baseball bat next thing I know I am in this dark room.

I don't know for how long I had been here. Stashed in plain sight in the storage shack of the church right next to the forest that I had loved to watch but now the sounds of the birds and squirrels sickened me. It turns out Evan had added a basement to the shack, not something fancy but enough to keep me in for a long time without anyone noticing.

I still had hope that I would make it back home to my mother and father who I missed so dearly. Evan had broken me. He had whipped me as I was chained to a stone post. Just like Jesus he would say then he would rape me.

I am thirsty and I am hungry. The last time I had eaten was when Evan had brought down some bread without yeast. I learned that it was called unleavened bread that the Israelites in the Old Testament ate at Passover to remember their liberation fron slavery at the hands of the Egyptians. It tasted wonderful to me because I was hungry. He had given me wine too. I knew it was Holy Communion wine. I hoped dad would find out.

Banging. Evan again. He was hitting the metal door. He loved to announce his presence. He came down and stopped. What was he doing? I tried to rub the filthy blindfold on the cold wall next to me so that I could see but it just made me bleed again. Hands grabbed me and hefted me to a sitting position. The chains that were so tight around my hands dug into my skin and re-opened the healing skin. I welcomed the pain because it grounded me. It allowed me to know that I could still feel something.

For the first time since my capture. Light pierced my eyes. He had taken off the blindfold. Why?. I covered my face against the light coming from the lone bulb in the ceiling. When my eyes could finally see something, I allowed myself to look at my brother. The man I had loved and looked up to as a role model. The same man who had taught me about Jesus and the Bible. Now the man who had kidnapped me, held me captive, whipped me and soon after raped me time and time again till I felt nothing.

When the whip landed the first time, I was not surprised and I didn't scream. I had long given up screaming because it didn't help it only made him happier and I wasn't going to be the reason for Evan's happiness. He whipped me countless times but only got the pleasure of a few whimpers. Evan then unchained me and I fell to the floor, curled in a fetal position and that's when I noticed it. One couldn't mistake the L-shape bulge of a gun tucked into his jeans. Next thing I noticed was the can of gasoline isolated in the far corner of the room. He had always threatened to send me to hell. Was that what he meant? To burn me alive like I was nothing or just a piece of roast meat.

Evan unchained one of my hands but now I heard something else. Evan heard it too. Voices upstairs, they were arguing. I could have been imagining them. Evan was now scared and he ran upstairs not noticing that I had taken his gun from him. That was his first mistake.

He came down. I must have dosed off because I didn't hear him come down till he was pouring gasoline on my mostly naked body. My open wounds burned because of the gasoline. I felt for the cool black metal tucked in the sack cloth I was wearing, another rendition from the Old Testament then I summoned all my energy and used it to kick him hard in the legs. His surprise was evident as he fell to the floor and let out an oomph of air. I hobbled myself to standing and I pointed the gun at him. My brother. The one I had loved and now I despised with all my heart. I allowed him to stare at the barrel of his own gun before I fired the gun. I only stopped when I heard the gun click in emptiness then I sent him to hell.

I was running through the night. From what I could tell it was dawn. The cool air slapped my face as I ran towards my parent's house. My blonde hair swayed with the wind. My feet screamed as stones and pinecones dug into them. I almost cried in relief when I reached. I knocked and my mother opened the door. She was in her long pink night gown. Her blood shot eyes widened in realization. She had been crying. I was welcomed into the house. Nothing had changed besides the gifts stacked on the corner of the living room that my family had received as a result of my kidnapping. The house looked depressed.

I narrated to my parents what I had gone through at the hands of Evan. My father got up but I stopped him by saying that Evan was dead. He dashed up the stairs and came back, shotgun in hand. For the second time that day I found myself in danger of losing my life.

"How dare you kill my son?" he was shouting spittle flying from his mouth. His beefy hand was not on the trigger guard but on the trigger itself. My mother and I stood up and like the coward she was walked to his side.

"I always knew you would cause our family's downfall. You little slut, an imperfect girl that will never make it in life." I turned and ran as a he fired the first shot that zinged past my head and hit the wall. I was outside now running when the second bullet hit the street light and then connected with my head. I was on the road face down, tears streaming down my face as I bled. That was what finally broke me. It wasn't the torture or the rape but the rejection. My father chose Evan over me despite what Evan did and I will never forgive him for that. Never.