50. Never
Chapter fifty
Never
Astoria
“Astoria?” I wrinkle my eyebrows and moan at the pain of having to wake up to my reality. It’s an unfamiliar voice.
“Astoria.”
“Hmm.”
“Wake up.”
The light bleeds through my closed eyelids and my eyes flash open at the realization that the voice doesn't belong to Julian. An older man is kneeling at my bedside. He looks and smells like he hasn't taken a shower in a year. His gray dirty beard hangs long. The shadows under his eyes tell me a story I know oh too well, a story of Julian's form of torture. Within seconds, I scream and pull back with such force that I fall off the bed on the other side. The pain in my thigh intensifies my screech. He climbs over the bed and I crawl away, hugging the sheet to my chest to cover my nakedness.
“Who are you? Get away from me. Get away! Get the fuck away!”
His eyes show shock and after I’ve yelled it many times, he moves back toward the door. I hold on to the bed, struggling to stand, my legs shaking. Although some of the pain has dissipated, the branding and my muscles still ache. His palms open high, signaling no intention of harm. I notice he has a neck collar too. I wrap the thin blanket around my body.
“Who are you?” I ask with an insurmountable aggression originating from out of fear.
“I-I’m your father… Astoria.”
I shake my head. “No. No. My father disappeared years ago. You’r–you’re–” I can’t deal with this. What is this? What the fuck is Julian up to now? I must be hallucinating or dreaming. I need help.
“Baby girl, it’s me.” Baby girl… Hearing him spill that nickname sends an avalanche of disgusting memories. It's what he used to call me. I want to vomit but there's nothing in my stomach. I retch bile.
I'm trying to catch my breath when he calls me again, "Astoria."
“No! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” I scream. “And don’t move.”
I walk around the bed, almost faltering, and use the bathroom. By the time I dare to step into the room again, I’ve almost convinced myself I was hallucinating or had a nightmare. His presence terrifies me, bringing back so many disgusting memories mixed with others full of love. The nausea won't go away. Blood leaks from the cuts on my palm.
“You’re Astoria Torres. You were named after my grandmother. Your mother changed your last name from Winters to Torres after we divorced. You liked bubbles and lollipops and your three-wheel bike. You had a friend at school… Mindy.”
I shake my head and lose my breath as I cry, wince, and grind my teeth. “No. No. Shut up.”
With my palm, I try to push down all the pressure that’s building in my chest. This is not happening. This can’t be happening. As my eyes reluctantly sweep over his face one more time, I recognize him.
“No,” I whisper.
He’s a lot older, but I can see features from when he was young, when he used to be my dad. I don’t want this to be true. My hands shake. “Julian!” I scream.
He takes one step toward me, and I scream at the top of my lungs. “I said stay the fuck away from me! You sick son of a bitch! Stay the fuck away!” I keep repeating it.
“Astoria–”
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? What you did to me? I wish I could kill you!” The words echo and give me a throbbing headache.
“I’m sorr–”
At the top of my lungs, I scream, “No. You don’t get to pronounce those words to me. You don’t. Because I don’t forgive you! You don’t get to ask for forgiveness. You don’t deserve it. I’ll never fucking forgive you! You piece of shit! You. Fucking. Ruined Me!” I pound at my chest the last four words as a wailing threatens to escape me.
“You were supposed to be my father, and you ruined me! I loved you so fucking much and in return, you ruined me! No!” I break down. “God. I can’t. I can’t do this. I hate you so much, so fucking much. You made me hate myself. You made Mom hate me. You ruined my body, my mind, my childhood, my life.” I sob as I push back my hair while walking back and forth, losing my mind.
This can’t be real. “There’s not an inch of me you didn’t fuck up.” I collapse at the foot of the bed, my elbows on the mattress, my hands holding my head as I devolve into a silent weeping, and whisper, “Because of you, I’m in love with my rapist. Because of you, I’m addicted to him abusing and raping me.” My sobbing distorts the words so I don’t know if he understands me, but I can’t help it because it hurts too much to say how fucked up I am out loud. "Because of you, my mind thinks abuse is passion…"
“Astoria… Listen…”
“I said shut the fuck up!”I didn't tighten the faucet enough because I can hear the drops of water falling as I try to calm down. I can hear his breathing and feel his disgusting presence. Time passes and I’m relieved he says nothing. I turn to face him, but I stare at the ground, in a trance.
“Why? Why would you do that to a little child? Why? I’ve been wondering every single fucking day of my life since.” I growl. “What did I do? I was so happy. I thought I was pretty. I thought I was good.” I sob, dying for comfort, for someone to take me into their arms and erase my life, hug this agony out of me. As my shoulders cave in, I whisper again, “Why?”
“It had nothing to do with you, baby girl. I wish… I wish I could go back and stop myself. I do.” As he speaks, I stand up.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up. You are seeking my forgiveness and you’re not going to get it. You took everything from me! But you will never get that! Do you hear me? You never will! Ju–lian!”
“No. Astoria. Listen–Don’t call him." I can hear the terror in his tone, see it in his wide open eyes. "He’s been torturing–”
“Julian!”
The metal clanking of the doors intensifies the terror into every wrinkle on his face. Good. His fear makes me smile and for the first time in my life I crave hurting someone really bad. The hunger rises fast. For once, I’m grateful for Julian’s darkness.
“Astoria, please–”
I shake my head slowly and wonder why I cant stop myself from smiling. “I don’t care what you have to say.”
“No. Listen–”
“Get out! Get the fuck out!”
I walk around the bed to the other side of the room, the one opposite to the door, to my father, and to Julian as he walks in. My father cries like the coward he is. That’s where I got it from, now I know.
When Julian comes in, I can’t hold back because the panic speaks for me. “Take him out of here.”
“little bird…” I can hear the smile in his tone.
“Take him out, Julian. Get him out!” I turn away, resting my forehead on the corner, scratching at the wall, whispering, “It’s not real. It’s not real.”
When Julian’s palms gently land on my shoulder, it startles me. He turns me to face him.
“Why did you do this?” I ask.
“It’s your gift, pretty bird.” He kisses my forehead, then takes the key from his pocket and unlocks my collar. Our eyes lock.“It doesn’t make sense. Nothing does. But I love you,” Julian says, then kisses my lips so gently that I second-guess myself as to whether this is reality.
“No, you don’t, Julian,” I respond as I shake my head.
“Yes. I do, and that’s why I’m letting you go.”
“What?”
I see him, taking something from his back pocket. It’s a blade knife. I swallow and back into the corner. The walls hit my back too soon. There’s no space. After drowning in his gorgeous blue eyes for a few seconds, I accept my fate. I tilt my chin up and close my eyes, waiting for it to slash my throat.
Let's face it, we always knew this day would come, and it’s for the best because I can’t live with Julian abusing me. But I can't live without him. I never meant to forgive him but somehow I did, and I hate myself because of it. It's disgusting.
“Go ahead, Julian. Do it.”
“No.”
I open my eyes to meet his gaze, confused. Julian turns the knife around so that I can take it from his palm by the handle.
“You pick, pretty bird. You can kill me, you can kill him, or you can kill both of us. Either way, today, you’ll kill somebody. It’s the only way you can get the key to get out of here. The only path to your true freedom,” he whispers.
I shake my head, and he nods back. “Julian–”
“It’s the only way I can truly set you free, pretty bird. I can’t go through this again, living away from you only to have to catch you again and losing control, almost killing you. So do it.”
“Julian, please…”
“I love you, so set yourself free by killing me." He nods. "It's okay.”
I search for it, the fear in him. There is none. The ony thing I see is sadness.