52. Brynn
D rip.
Drip. Drip.
Drip.
I let out a groan as I realise it’s rain. Rain on the windows.
The room is dark. Monsters come out in the dark. My husband is a monster.
Mooonster.
I let out a giggle, I married a monster. A monnnster.
Something opens, something moves. I can hear it. It’s in the distance, too far to be near me but there’s a steadily growing cacophony of sound that makes my heart race like it knows something I don’t.
Is that him? Is he the storm? My husband is coming back like a whirlwind.
I used to fear him. I know that much. But fear feels so far away now, so removed from what I am. Emotions feel like a mirage. Like something you dream of but never experience.
I try to roll over. The sheets are so soft and gentle on my skin. Soft.
My husband’s touch was soft, his eyes looked at me with love, but I know he used to feel other things. He used to hurt me.
I glance down, staring at the two pale legs that refuse to budge.
Budge.
Budge budge budge.
My toes are painted a pretty pink, and even though I can’t see them in this darkness, I can shut my eyes and see that perfect shade. I want to wiggle them, to show them off. But they too refuse to budge.
Crash.
I jerk more awake. That noise was nearer. That noise was closer. It’s coming for me.
Is it God? Has he decided that I’ve had enough now, that I’ve done enough. I’ve paid my price to enter Heaven, and these are the angels coming to carry me away?
“Jesus.” A man says.
The light comes on, and I only just manage to cover my eyes. They're swollen anyway. My sight is still blurred from when they mashed my brains.
My brains. Mashed like potatoes.
I’m hungry, and I like potato mash.
“Brynn?”
I don’t know that voice. I don’t know what is going on.
There should be fear here, there should be panic, but I feel nothing as the duvet is yanked off and these men who fill the room are staring at me. They’re dressed in black. They look like an army, a swarm of beasts. Who are they? They can’t be with my husband because he would never have let them see me like this.
“Oh god, Brynn.” A girl pushes through, shoving them out the way and she comes to kneel beside me with what looks like horror on her face.
I lift my hand, tracing the way her skin crinkles.
“I know you.” I whisper. I do. It’s true. I’m not lying. I know her.
She shakes her head like she doesn’t understand something.
“It’s okay,” I say repeating those same words Conrad says to me. It’s okay. It’s all okay. Everything is fixed now. Everything is good.
“What the fuck has he done?” A man snarls.
I look at him, I tilt my head and I stare at the stranger.
“Done.” I state. “All done. All fixed.”
“What the fuck?” Someone else mutters.
“We need to get going.” The man states, “Can you walk?”
He’s talking to me? He thinks I want to leave? I frown, staring down at my legs. I just want my toes to wiggle. I don’t even care if my feet don’t work. I just want to see my toes move, just a little bit.
But there’s nothing.
“No walk,” I say.
That clearly pisses him off. He starts barking orders before he turns back to me. “Get up, we’re leaving.”
“No walk.” I repeat. “No legs.”
“What does she mean ‘no legs’? They’re right there?” The girl gasps, pointing like we can’t see them.
I remember her now. I remember her face.
“You came.” I whisper. “You found me before. When I was bad. When I was broken.”
She was there. She found me on the rug. She was a maid.
She nods, taking my hand. “Please Brynn, we want to help you.”
“No walk.” I repeat. “No legs.”
“What does that mean?” The man snarls, losing the last of his patience.
I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. There’s too many people in this room. No one is meant to be in this room. Conrad doesn’t like anyone here, not even the doctor.
“Broke.” I whisper, “He broke… Now my legs are gone.” I roll over, showing my skin, showing my spine and I know that the bruising is there, that the damage is there.
The room reacts. I don’t look at their faces but it’s clear no one here likes my legs like this.
“I’ve been good.” I state. I have. I haven’t moved. I did what he asked. And when he comes back, he’s going to reward me.
Reward me. My hand moves, it’s so instinctive I don’t question it. That need is suddenly there, so strong and I need to sort it. I need to do it. I’m not allowed to touch my cunt, they said that, they said it’s damaged, but I can touch the other part. The part that is nice, the part on the outside that makes me see stars.
“What the fuck is she doing?” The man snarls.
“He’s fucked with her head.” The girl replies. “She wasn’t like this before. I swear…”
“We don’t have time for this.”
A hand smacks at me. It stops me. I look up, not understanding because this is what my body needs. This is what my body wants. And my husband wants it too. He likes this.
“Conrad wants…” I trail off, unable to finish that sentence as I’m scooped up.
I’m not wearing anything. I’m naked, and the feel of my skin against the stiffness of his clothes is horrible. It rubs. It scratches.
“Let’s go.”
Go.
Go. Go. Go.
But I can’t go. I can’t. Conrad will be back. He will be expecting me to be here.
“He wants me here.” I state. Why don’t they understand?
Colours, paintings, rooms pass me by in a whirl as I’m carried out.
“It’s okay.” The maid says reassuringly, echoing those same words my husband says. “Don’t be scared.”
But I’m not scared. I don’t feel scared. I don’t feel emotions.
It’s cold outside, really cold. The man holding me wraps something around my body and we stand by a car but he doesn’t put me in it.
He just turns me and lets me look back at the house. My house. Conrad’s house.
Only, it doesn’t look like it should. Why are there flames? Why is it billowing out smoke? I start to cough as that black ash seems to fill the air.
“You’ll never have to go back there again,” The man says. As if that’s meant to be a good thing.
I blink at him, staring at his strange face. “Who are you?”
His lips curl. He’s older, too old, far older than Conrad and Magnus too. He must be my grandfather’s age, only he doesn’t look like he’s looked after himself so well. His skin is more wrinkled. His eyes look tired. And his hair is so grey.
“You know who I am, Brynn.” The man replies. “I’m your father.”