The Reaper

Chapter 11: Black Eyes

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months...

I remained in that hospital room until my wounds were fully healed. Part of me was relieved that I got out of that room, but I mostly didn't want to because it kept me isolated from everyone. That isolation, however, was why I wanted to leave. The longer I stayed in there, the more I felt like the room was getting smaller. Whenever that happened, I forced myself to go outside. Every single time I go out, everyone gets their chance to say hi to me, and as always, I never said hi back. I just sit next to the room door to get some sense of tranquility, but all of these people are becoming the reason why I needed to get back inside.

"Oppa? Oppa?! Oppa!"

BANG!

Every night, I have had the same dream; seeing Lauren being murdered, my whole family's dead bodies, the blood, and the tall man. I wake up jumping out of my bed, screaming in terror, feeling the pain in my chest, the heavy breathing, and the sweat. At first, I got frustrated and angry at being reminded of my failures, until I began to feel a sense of hopelessness, like I couldn't bear this much weight on me anymore. Many mornings, I broke down in tears. However, Nurse Esther has offered regular therapeutic treatment throughout these months. At first, I didn't want to open myself up to her. I refused to answer her questions and refused to go along with the treatments. Master thought I should spend time with Grace since he noticed I spent time with her more often than others. Like always, I expressed great disinterest in engaging with her. Sometimes, I pretended she was not there, other times, I avoided her. She even tried talking to me, and, at that moment, shared her story about what happened to her.

Her mother was an alcoholic and very neglectful when her father was gone. She was all alone, with no one to help her, and yet, she tried staying optimistic and kept a smile on her face as she went around being nice to everyone. Sometime later, a man was introduced to her as her stepfather. For months, he forced her to undress herself in front of him. She didn't want to because it didn't feel right. She tried to talk to her mother about it but she didn't want to hear it. She continued being an alcoholic and neglectful to her. She even slapped Grace once, accusing her of what happened to her father. Later, when her stepfather forced her to undress again, for the first time, she refused. He got angry and got more demanding. She wouldn't give in. That was when he hit her across her face, got on top of her, and then raped her, saying that this is the consequence for not doing what she was told. After he finished and left her in that room, she was able to run away, traumatized and violated. She ended up in the streets for days until one of the leaders here found her and brought her in. That was a year before I came.

After hearing her story, I spent a good amount of time reflecting. "My parents were awful people, too. My father used to yell at me, curse at me, and beat me if I did something wrong. And my mother, wouldn't lift a finger to help me. She would just let it happen as if it wasn't her problem." I scoff at the similarities of our parents. "I guess that's one thing we both have in common." And just like that, I began to open up with her. I told her everything about my sister and my family.

I started to take the therapy from Nurse Esther. It was a very unusual process. She would have me think about the moment that had me most traumatized, and as I was focused on that, she wanted me to visually follow her hand moving left and right. She called this therapy, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. At first, it didn't seem to work, but with a few more practices, after breaking down in tears numerous times, somehow, I felt better. We kept going session after session tackling one memory at a time. It scared me every time I looked through those memories again, but after visually confronting those traumatic memories with the help of this therapy, I didn't feel afraid anymore. I'm still having nightmares, though, but I at least don't wake up screaming like I always did. Nurse Esther did say things take time to get over, but there are things I don't wish to get over. I figured this therapy would help get rid of certain emotional reactions to my trauma, so I focused on ridding solely my fear, all there will be left are my hatred and my anger. I will need them later on.