2. Amelie #2
There she was, floating slowly toward the seat that was always hers at the kitchen table. The one that stayed vacant for the last year and a half.
As I closed my eyes, hopefully for good, I pictured that I was sitting at the table with them.
The prickly grass pierced my cheek. My skirt pooled at the top of my upturned hips.
I kept my eyes closed, though. I didn’t want to live through this again.
Tears fell from my eyes, watering the soil below me.
Rad’s body crashed into mine over and over again.
I thought I’d dried myself of tears by now, but a reserve that was saved for this very moment opened up.
His palm pressed between my shoulder blades, crushing me further into the ground. The smell of alcohol wafted off ?him.
A whimper escaped me as my already bruised cheek broke open against the grass. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, I couldn’t feel anymore. I couldn’t let myself. Whatever was left of my soul was gone. I sent one more silent prayer up to God, but I knew it would fall on deaf ears.
His body moved against mine as my skirt grew heavier on my lower back.
A force pushed against my body and for a moment it felt like no one was touching me.
A release, maybe my mind tricking me into thinking I owned my body again.
As the sound of the outdoors flowed back to my ears, there was a commotion behind me.
I was lying by myself on the cool ground, my eyes barely opened but it was enough to see a set of boots approach me, scoop me up and carry me away.
Peeling my eyes open, a sky full of stars danced across my vision. It was much darker than I imagined Heaven might be. Cement blocks were piled high and closed me into a small box, the door had bars covering a tiny window at the top of it.
I laid on a tiny bed, even smaller than the one I had at home. Not daring to move I let the chilled draft tousle the stained sheets covering me.
My brain tried to regain its ability to think straight.
I sat up with a groan, the pounding in my head sent a crushing pain through the side of my face that was now triply bruised.
The pads of my fingers grazed that area with a feather-light touch, I shuddered at how fragile I felt.
How many times can one’s cheek break before it can never heal again?
Furthering the pain as the pressure built in my cheek.
Fire set off in my eyes, the tears that brimmed were fighting the flames.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself.
Footsteps at the door now had my heart matching the throb in my head. If this was Heaven, God needed a new decorator but I knew it wasn’t. There was no pain or suffering in the supposed Heaven.
This was hell, which meant I was still in Holleberg.
“She’s awake,” the blonde guard from earlier said to someone approaching in the hallway.
Arthur slid past him, followed by Igor, Lord Bosque’s son. He was said to be just as wicked as his father but those of us who dwelled at the bottom of their totem pole never saw him. He shared his father’s brown eyes and sandy blonde hair. He was tall and well fed with toned muscles.
I looked down at my folded hands in my lap, not wanting to face whatever consequence I was about to endure. I breathed easier knowing that Rad wasn’t in the room with us.
“We have some things to talk about.” Arthur crouched at my side.
“I promise I won’t steal again.” It was an empty promise. The only way my family survived thus far was because of Wren only turning in half of what he’d foraged and my sleight of hand at merchant tables.
“Rad will never hurt you again.” Arthur ignored my plea. My breathing picked up at the mere mention of his name, and the memories of what he’d done to me in the last few days tried to push to the forefront. I willed it back, along with the lump that was stuck in my throat.
Arthur positioned a curled finger under my chin and lifted it to force me to look at him.
“Did you hear me?” He tilted his head and I noticed how much he reminded me of my father at that moment, aside from his blue eyes. I nodded back to him, blinking back my tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of any guard. “You are due in front of Lord Bosque now. Can you walk?”
I looked at Arthur, then Igor, wondering why I had to face the Lord right now.
“Rad’s counterpart reported the theft. I can’t get you out of this one.”
My chest heaved. Surely I had at least one broken rib. Each breath felt like I was being stabbed.
It was not uncommon for women to be abused here.
Being raped was just another form of it.
I always preferred the blows from their fists to the violation of my soul.
The last few days had been a proper test of faith.
Faith I had little left of to test. Does God watch the abuse?
Does he approve of the men that were created in his image?
The first time it happened, I was eleven.
I had just left school and was walking home with my only friend, Prita.
She lived closer to the school than I did so I walked the last bit alone, I still remember the goliath hands that wrapped around my neck like a scarf.
He told me if I screamed for help or told anyone, he’d kill me.
I walked in our front door with dark blue finger marks all over my neck, I didn’t need to explain to my mother what had happened.
She requested for me to be put on the birth control tea immediately, and the Palace granted the request.
It only took a few more times of being raped by the guards to know why birth control tea was so generously distributed. No one should ever have to say a few more times of being raped but it’s been thirteen years since the first time, and it’s never stopped.
“Is he going to take my hands?” The only punishment I knew of for a thief in Holleberg.
Arthur looked at the floor. The energy of the men in this room was not the evil kind I was used to. Igor and the blonde guard were standing shoulder to shoulder, almost leaning on each other. But I didn’t know why they needed the comforting .
“I’m not sure. I’ll do everything I can to help your case.”
He stood and took my hand to help me do the same. I shuddered as we neared Igor. How he could watch someone be taken in front of his father to be punished so cruelly was beyond me.
I quickly realized we were in the cellars of the Palace. It was cold and the stone walls were shining like they were wet. Bile rose in my throat as the smell of rotting milk and mold from the water got stronger and stronger.
I stumbled as the pain that riddled my body pleaded for rest and recovery. Arthur caught me and threw my arm over his shoulder. My consciousness fading.
“Liam, grab the other side.” Liam, the blonde guard, took my other arm over his shoulders and the two of them carried me to the common level of the Palace where villagers received their sentencing.
It was a large, open room with dark grey marbled floors. The Lord and Lady sat in their oversized chairs with stoic, arrogant faces. Large red and white banners hung from the walls, covering what looked like windows if the light that tried to shine through was any indication.
“Another thief in my village,” Lord Bosque’s poisonous voice boomed through the room as we approached.
Arthur and Liam dropped my shoulders, and without warning of it, I fell to my knees, giving our ruler the idea that I was bowing to him.
“I give enough rations to the villagers, and if you’ve used yours up, that is not the problem of the Palace, yet you made it our problem.” He leaned on one elbow, entirely unconcerned with the punishment he was about to invoke. “You know the punishment for being a thief?”
I nodded.
“Use your words, peasant.”
As I lifted my bruised face to meet his wicked eyes, my hair fell over my shoulders, the frayed ends scratched at my arms.
“I do, my Lord. I will repent however you deem fair.” What I wanted to tell him was to go fuck himself the way his guards did me. Then maybe he’d have mercy on the souls he was stealing here.
Igor strutted up to his father, a confidence that he did not wear earlier surrounding him.
Lord Bosque leaned over the arm of the chair further to hear whatever Igor was whispering in his ear.
Standing at his father’s side, I noticed him wink at Arthur, who was standing behind me now.
“Arthur, take her hands. The healer is unavailable this evening, so wrap the wounds. If she dies from the blood loss, she dies.” Lord Bosque reached for his wife’s hand. She smiled at him, pleased with her husband’s viscous punishment. I stumbled to stand, barely able to fill my lungs with air.
“My Lord, may I suggest a better punishment? She’s a thief.
She will find other ways to steal.” Arthur’s words hit my heart like a bolt of lightning.
He said he would try to help me. He’d always been kind to me, I never understood why, but now I wondered if it was him playing the long game to grant me an even worse fate than a one time offense.
“I’m listening,” Lord Bosque drawled, tilting his head in wait.