Ill-Gotten Memories

13. Misery Loves Company

*Trigger Warnings:* Brief depiction of sexual assault. Heavy themes of suicide and depression. Brief depiction of self-harm.

***

Sunday.

"He's here. It's happening, Barbara.

You see? That's him. In the doorway. You're not getting away this time.

You're trapped.

You can't move.

The chains are on."

Stalkish, ghostly, and grim, Boyles creeped up to me. His dry, scaly hands slithered around my body, tearing my clothes off one piece at a time... nice and slow. He invaded every area that was sacred to a young girl, touching them in long, sinful strides. My innocence was his to claim, and I had no choice but to surrender.

There was no escape.

The steel bracelets wrapped around my wrists and ankles gave me shivers, but I was far from cold. I smothered with heat. His heat.

He towered over me like a giant, and my twelve year-old self was infinitely smaller than him, but I could already tell he wasn't thinking twice about this. No second guesses. No hesitation. As a grown man with a mere child in his grasp, the thought that I was too young, or too fragile, to endure an act so violent never occurred to him. He had one thing on his mind. And he was going to get it.

"I've been waiting for you, Blondie."

Excitedly, he took off his pants and underwear in one slick motion, revealing the part I feared... that hurt me most. His anatomy pierced through the dark as pointed as a knife, strong and straight, prepared to violate me. He never cared how rough he was. How much I cried. He just wanted to release.

"Don't breathe.

Don't look.

Just take it.

It won't last long."

I screamed at him to stop. To let me go. But not a soul could hear me.

I struggled beneath him and fought with all my might, to no avail. It never ended.

Not until I woke up.

Shattering his grim reflection, my reoccurring nightmare folded into the seams of morning light and afternoon glare. It was over. Numbness filled the fear stricken veins and avenues of my heart. But he was finally gone. And that was all that mattered.

I sat up in the bed, hugging a pillow. I squeezed it closer. Tighter. I needed its soft embrace to calm the terror raging in me. The object didn't have flesh, arms, or warmth. It couldn't hold me back. But I hold it.

The sudden movement of sitting up pulled the earth off its damn axis. I was so dizzy I could pass out, but I refused to close my eyes again. Boyles would not accomplish his wicked desires once more, not even in my dreams. I had to stay awake.

Blankets of sweat covered my entire body, which wasn't new to me. I was used to waking up like this. The only way to avoid it was getting no sleep at all. I normally pulled a couple of all-nighters through the week and made-up for it on weekends. Working at the library Monday through Friday made the routine utterly unbearable, but at least I only had nightmares one time a week.

Swinging my feet over the bed, I lasered in on my bedside alarm clock. It was probably well past time I'd gotten up.

The woodgrain box was fuzzy though, and swaying in the air to my deceitful eyes. I stretched my hand across the table and steadied the clock, though it never actually moved.