Sightless

Martha and Julian Blanchet

~ Ten Years Ago ~

I had just turned sixteen, but I still should have known better. My foster parents, Martha and Julian Blanchet, seemed like good people, but like most all people in my life they proved me wrong. 

It was after one of my visits with Dale and Irma. They had been telling me that they were doing really well financially, and were going to be looking into adopting me. I made the mistake of telling Julian. 

He was the only one home that night, like most nights. Martha was janitor at the local hospital and she worked the night shift. And Julian worked at the gas station down the road in the morning. So I had one of them at all times, but hardly ever both. 

Anyway, I sat down with Julian for dinner, he had heated up some microwave dinners and I was supposed to be eating a fettuccini alfredo look-alike. But I was too excited about Dale and Irma's plans that I could barely stop smiling long enough to swallow. He was getting frustrated with me, and it wasn't long before he broke the silence. 

"What the fuck's goin' on girl?" Even with his vulgar language, I couldn't remove my smile. 

"You know Dale and Irma Horvath? They said they're making enough money now so they can adopt me! You won't have to keep watching me anymore, I know it frustrates you." It did. It made him angry that, legally, someone had to be home with me at all times, and that I needed help with pretty much everything. I was a bother. Every family I had been put with said so. 

"What?" It was a growl, his question. I didn't realize at the time that I was their meal ticket. Because I was such a bother, the government gave the families I was with, more money than pretty much any other kid in the system. I found out later that this money was supposed to have been used for materials and other items to help me overcome my disability. Of course, I never saw any of that money. 

"Dale and Irma? They said they're going to adopt me. It'll take a few weeks for the paperwork to process, but I should be out of your hair soon." Something banged on the table, and I flinched at the loud noise. It wasn't uncommon in this house for Julian to throw or hit things, but normally it was directed at Martha and not me. And it was the first rule of foster-dom, never get involved. 

"You aren't leavin'. This is some bullshit! We haven't dealt with this bullshit the past few months just for that money to go to some random-ass rich people! You were supposed to be with us until you turned eighteen! We were counting on that money girl!" He was yelling in my face now. I could feel his spit landing on my face as he screamed, and his fists banged on the table every few words. 

I didn't think he would be so angry. 

He was out of my face a split second after he finished talking, and I couldn't tell where he went. He walked so silently it was like he didn't even touch the ground, and then, my chair was yanked backwards and I was falling through the air before landing on the ground hard. My head smacked against the tile floor, and I felt something wet drip down my scalp, probably blood, but I couldn't dwell on it much. 

He gripped the front of my shirt, and yanked, dragging me off the chair and away from the table. It took me a long moment to gather my bearings, but when we hit carpet I knew we had left the kitchen and were in the hallway, headed towards the bedrooms. 

That's when I caught up to what was happening and started to scream. 

I couldn't do this again. I couldn't add another trauma to an already traumatic life. I thought I had been doing well. I thought that the horrors of my life would be over soon. 

I was wrong. 

He threw me by my shirt onto a bed, my bed. It was the only twin bed in the house. I know that, because to 'pay for the irritation that is my presence' I have to clean the house every week. I could hear him shuffling around, but not what he was doing, and I knew I needed to get out of this room and away from him, but I couldn't figure out how. 

I was blind, he wasn't. That pretty much puts all the eggs in his basket. I was sitting up, when he slapped me across the face, and I fell back down. 

"Now look girly. This can go the easy way, or the hard way. I didn't wanna have to do this to you. But... you aren't good for anything else now. So lay there, and take it like a woman." 

All I could do was scream as he ripped my pants to my knees, just far enough that he could spread my legs, but not far enough that I could use my legs to shove him off. 

I didn't get the chance to fight back. 

When I woke up, everything was silent. There wasn't the sound of crickets outside, cars driving by, or the wind against the window. I almost thought he had buried me alive until I heard her voice. 

Martha, she was yelling at him. 

Not yelling at him for raping me. No, she was yelling at him for doing it while she was gone. She wanted to watch, wanted to be involved. Wanted to help him break me. 

You see... they thought... that if I was raped, that I would either tell the Horvaths, and they wouldn't want me so I could stay with them, or... I wouldn't tell them, and they would at least get to have some fun while I was with them.

They never thought that the week that they spent physically abusing me would lead to me becoming pregnant. They were stupid people, who never thought to use a condom, or give me a morning-after pill. 

So, two months after that horrible week, and every chance they could get after that, when I couldn't stop throwing up and I hadn't had a period, I found out I was pregnant. 

You want to know the first thing they did? 

Told me to go live with the Horvaths because 'we don't want a pregnant whore living in our house!'. Like it wasn't their fault to begin with. 

That's when I found out, that becoming pregnant while in the foster system, means you are an adult. 

And that means you're on your own. 

So... while Julian and Martha rotted in jail for rape of a minor, I had to learn to take care of myself, and my child. 

Because no one would do it for me.