Exquisite

Chapter 13

***MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING for sexual assault, rape and extreme physical abuse. In this chapter, Grace goes home to her dad's house for thanksgiving. Do not read if this is going to be triggering- very very dark and difficult chapter***

Thanksgiving had lurked in a part of my brain I pushed aside. I ached to stay in the autumn bliss of my first college term but, as they must, the leaves started to fall and the clock ticked closer and closer to the time I dreaded.
Three nights back with dad. I was sick at the thought of it.
Jen could sense my anxiety.
"You could always come home with me for Thanksgiving," she offered, "Meet the folks."
"You know I would love to," I sighed, "But I think you know that ain't gonna cut it with dad."
So when the day came to drive home, I packed my bags and loaded up my car.
Jen hugged me tightly before I got in, kissing my forehead. I didn't want to let go.
"I'll miss you," I murmured into her shoulder, "So, so much."
"Hey," she squeezed me, "You'll be back here in my arms before you know it. And we can text- maybe even call or FaceTime."
I smiled sadly, nodding.
"I love you," she kissed me again, "Drive safe."
Hearing those three words still made my heart sing.
"I love you too," I replied.
The drive home was long, but not long enough. I had pondered over donning my old clothes for the occasion, but the hair and the pierced ears would probably send him over the edge anyway, so there wasn't much point. I thought I might feel more confident as the 'new me' too- maybe I'd have a chance at not letting him walk all over me quite as much.
When I came into the house he was sat in the living room, watching reruns on the TV with a bottle of beer in his hand. I took in the familiar scene- his overflowing ashtray with the cigar hanging off the edge, his handgun- one of a collection- sat on the end table, as always.
His head turned when I entered, and he slowly looked me up and down.
"There she is," he rasped, "My baby girl."
"Hi daddy," I tried a smile.
"Well look at you," he observed, "You've been shopping... and you've had your hair done."
I had gone for the relatively conservative option of one of my knitted jumpers and my denim maxi skirt, my hair pulled up in a claw clip. I held my breath, waiting for the dressing down.
"... I like it."
My eyes went wide, "You do?"
"You look all grown up," he nodded, "In fact... you look just like your momma."
I let myself exhale, putting my bag down. This definitely wasn't the reaction I expected.
"Come on, sit down," he urged, "You are staying, aren't you?"
I let out an obligatory laugh and sat on the armchair opposite him.
"D'you miss me?"
"Of course, daddy," I nodded, "Every day."
"Having fun?"
"Uh... yeah. I've made a few friends. The course is really interesting."
"Of course- my little smarty-pants," he chuckled, then sighed, "I do wish you'd keep in touch a little more, Gracie... I worry."
"Oh... I..." my leg started twitching involuntarily, "I'm sorry, daddy. You know what I'm like- I get so lost when I'm working on something or reading and I lose all track of time."
"Hmm," he nodded, "I know. I just like to know you're thinking about me."
He took a gulp of his beer, finishing off the bottle.
"Grab another one for me, would you baby?" He sighed.
I stood up obediently. As I edged between him and the coffee table, he slapped my ass, grinning to himself. I felt everything in me tense up again- home sweet home.
He clearly hadn't been doing great at keeping up with the cleaning in the kitchen. This would never have been acceptable with me at home; I was expected to keep the place spotless. There wasn't much in the fridge except from his beer- milk, shredded cheese, lunch meat, a few other bits and bobs. I imagined he'd mostly been living off of frozen TV dinners and Kraft mac and cheese. I took out a bottle, opened it and went back through.
As I put the bottle down beside him, he reached out suddenly and grabbed my wrist. I jumped.
"Sit beside me," he said, pulling me in.
I sat gingerly next to him on the couch, folding my hands in my lap, and stared past the crap on the TV screen.
"D'you not want one for yourself?" He held up the beer.
I looked at him sideways, "I'm not allowed."
"Ah, but look at you now- all grown up. I'm sure we could let you have a little big girl juice."
I cringed internally at his choice of words.
"Wanna try some?" He held it out. It was becoming clear now that he has had a few more than the beer he had been on when I came in.
"I'm okay," I said politely.
"Go on- try it," he urged.
"No, really, I'm-"
Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and pressed the bottle into my hand, "Try it. I wanna see you try it."
He was serious now. I looked at him. I had to play this very carefully. It had to look like the first sip of beer I'd ever had.
I hesitantly took a sip, screwing up my face as the beer hit my mouth. When I swallowed, I pulled a face.
"How's that?"
"Kinda gross," I handed it back to him.
He reached out and ruffled my hair, laughing, "Ah- still just my little girl."
I looked back at the TV, somewhat relieved. Then I felt his hand on my leg.
"You know, I really have missed you, Gracie," he sighed, squeezing my thigh.
"I... I missed you too." When I spoke it was barely a squeak.
"It sure has been lonely."
I didn't look at him, but I could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, his fly unzipping. My heart started pounding, my body frozen. I wished I was brave enough to yank my hand back when he grabbed it, but I wasn't. I stared hard at the pictures on the TV as he put my hand exactly where I knew he was going to.
He let out a soft groan and I shuddered.
"Ohhh baby, that's good," he grunted, "Tell me how much you missed me baby."
"I missed you... so much," I muttered monotonously, my eyes still fixed on the TV. My hand did its own thing, independent from the rest of my body. I had learned this trick a long time ago- tune out, don't think about it, you're not really here.
Before I knew it I was on my hands and knees on the couch with my panties around my ankles, pain burning between my legs. I concentrated on the black mass inside my head, pretending I was part of the nothingness, but I still threw up inside my mouth twice, and I still found tears rolling down my cheeks.
All the weeks of respite made it harder to tune out. The numbness I had built up over years was scratched away and the pain seeped through. He was speaking, but I could only hear the ringing in my ears- a small blessing.
When he was finished, I made myself decent, not looking at him.
I heard him say something, as if far in the distance.
"Huh?" I muttered.
"Go to your room."
I silently got up and walked slowly over to the door to the hallway.
I stopped for a second, not looking back.
"Can I have a shower?" I asked quietly.
He grumbled an affirmative response.
I turned the shower so hot it was almost burning, soothed by the steam. I felt like the hotter it was, the cleaner I would feel. I found myself just standing there, letting the tears mix with the beads of water splashing on my face.
I wrapped my hair up in a towel when I eventually stepped out of the shower, wrapping another around my body.
I took out my phone once I was sitting on my bed. Jen had messaged checking if I got here safe.
Yeah, all good x
Then I send another message.
Did you get home alright?
She told me that she had, and she and her parents were sitting watching a movie. Wouldn't it be nice, I thought, to have a normal family and do normal stuff?
I started drying my hair, looking glumly in the mirror. It pained me to look at myself- I couldn't stop thinking about how despite the changes in me since college started, since meeting Jen, I was still the same scared little girl inside.
As I put down the hairdryer, brushing through my hair, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
I knew dad would be in a foul mood now- the guilt always seemed to kick in and he couldn't stand the sight of me. I just had to try to avoid giving him a reason to take it out on me, which was easier said than done.
I clutched at my towel, holding it up around me as he barged in without knocking.
He stared at me.
I didn't speak.
"Forgot to ask you," he grunted, "Where's your bible?"
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. My stomach flipped. I could see that bible, still nestled in my underwear drawer. How could I be so fucking stupid? For as long as I could remember, dad had had a rule about keeping that goddamn bible on me at all times. I knew he had always wanted to catch me out on it and I'd gone and walked right into it.
He saw the look on my face.  I could almost see a smirk spreading across his.
"You don't have it, do you?" He said slowly.
Trembling, I hesitantly shook my head.
He sighed, shaking his head mockingly and unbuckling his belt, pulling it out of the loops of his pants.
"Drop the towel."
"No."
I said it before I had even registered what I was doing.
He looked as if I had slapped him in the face.
"What did you just say?"
I could feel my chest rising and falling as I breathed deeply.
"I... I said... n-no."
Just as the word 'no' escaped my lips for a second time, the back of dad's hand connected with my jaw, sending my head flying to one side. I gasped, automatically reaching to hold that side of my face.
He took hold of my wrist, ripping away the hand that was holding up the towel. I tried to cover myself with my free hand, not looking him in the eye.
He grabbed my face with his hand and spoke so close I could feel his spit spraying on my cheek.
"Goddamn bitch- you ever say no to me again I'll put a gun in your mouth in and pull the trigger, you hear me?" He shouted, "Don't you ever say no to me!"
He pushed me away.
"Hands flat on the mattress."
I looked at him, still trying to cover myself up with my arms.
"You ever wanna go back to that college, you get your hands on that mattress and take your fucking medicine!"
Tearfully, I did as he said.
I winced as he brought the belt down, landing his first stroke on my backside. It was a hard, stinging pain. He continued relentlessly, covering from my lower back to the backs of my thighs. He went on and on and on as I yelped in pain, and it soon dawned on me that this wasn't just an ordinary beating. That 'no' had angered him- frightened him, even. This was a beating to show me exactly what happened when I crossed him.
Soon my arms buckled and I collapsed into mattress. I couldn't hold back my shrieks.
"Stop!" I cried, "Please, please stop!"
"Shut your fucking cunt mouth!" He growled, hitting even harder.
Everything was burning, stinging, throbbing as the belt cut into my flesh. There was no respite, no time to breathe. I sobbed into the mattress, breathless and nauseous.
When he eventually stopped, I couldn't bring myself to move. I managed to turn my head to the side and saw him pick up my towel and run it over the belt- the white towel came away streaked with red.
"Get up," dad grunted.
I struggled, but managed to slowly pull myself to my feet, still sobbing.
"Look," he pointed at the mirror, "Look what happens when you start thinking you get to talk shit to me."
I craned my neck round and saw the area between my lower back and my knees was a deep shade of crimson, covered in dark, deep lines, some weeping blood. I quickly looked away.
I hated myself. I hated the cowed, timid little mess I'd been reduced to again. I hated him.