Hollow Grace

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ sɪx - ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ

Warning! This text contains mentions of sexualized violence. Read with caution.

The author is not familiar with the procedure for filing criminal offenses of this nature in Oregon and in the United States in general. The presentation and description of this process in the text is superficial and may differ from reality.

The words he had been unable to utter for eighteen months were finally articulated. Not with ease or resolve, but through immense self-mastery and herculean effort. The utterance cleaved his reality into two starkly disparate worlds, leaving him stranded in the more desolate one. This became unequivocally clear from the expression on Eric Lancaster's face. The man, too, paled and decelerated his pace, gazing at the youth with palpable horror.

"When?"

"Eighteen months ago..."

"How did it happened, kid? Can you recount it for me?"

"I was... at home... and then..." Evan couldn't continue. Tears flooded again, pouring uncontrollably. Hidden behind careless laughter and smiles, they gathered into a massive lump that now blocked his breath. Choking, the boy succumbed to his hysteria once more. Enough was enough. The closet door had been broken, and the nightmares hidden within broke free.

Eric spent a long time trying to calm Evan down, trying to get anything out of him. But the boy no longer heard him. He was choking on sobs, not knowing how to stop it, unable to even take a breath to calm himself. His ears were ringing terribly, and the soothing words drowned in a white noise. There was nothing around but a white haze, burning his eyes and skin with its salt.

A quiet wail gathered the nurses, and relatives joined, trying to understand the cause of the hysteria. Evan felt himself being seated on the examination table, hands pressing from all sides, and caught glimpses of Sylvia and Casey's faces.

"My darling boy... Evan," Sylvia murmured, enfolding him in a tight embrace, rocking him gently. "What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?"

"Ev... What's wrong?" Casey knelt before them, clasping her friend's wrists in her own. "Did you encounter Gloria here?"

"Give the lad some respite," Lancaster sighed heavily, turning to one of the nurses. "Fetch the doctor; his assistance is required."

"What is the matter, Eric?"

"Just let him regain his composure, alright? He can't breathe properly!"

It transpired that empathy inflicted a deeper wound than indifference. Solitude in the face of his tribulations was simpler and more familiar than witnessing the terror and anguish contorting the visages of his nearest and dearest. Evan was not only compelled to navigate this ordeal himself but also to lead them through its aftermath, offering them a foretaste of his suffering before justice was served. The last thing he desired was to burden them with the full weight of his experience.

No one could halt the unfolding events. Joel and Eric conferred quietly in the periphery, excluding the women from their dialogue. Sylvia, unnerved by Evan's hysteria, wept silently alongside him. Only when Dr. Andrews arrived was he discreetly apprised by the sheriff of the reason behind Evan's condition. Lancaster deferred a public announcement, sharing the details solely with the physician. The doctor promptly ordered a sedative injection and an oxygen cylinder for the boy.

"Now, Mr. Holden," the doctor said placidly, administering the injection himself into the young man's shoulder. "You shouldn't strain yourself like this; your head has already been through enough.."

"I... want... to return to the ward..." Evan whispered through his sobs. "Please..."

"So you can scare Wright like you've scared all of us? It's not worth it, Mr. Holden"