Chapter 9 The Death of Me
I was fully asleep on my bed when the nearby footsteps tapping and shuffling on a wooden floor woke me but not enough to open my eyes. The deep slumber demanded I get right back into it.
Wake up. Wake up.Run.
Wake up.
I was sure it was just a dream or maybe someone from the party downstairs was walking past my door. There was more shuffling and some whispering.
YOU NEED TO RUN!
Hands grabbed at my arms and pinned them to the bed as I gasped in terror and opened my eyes, lifting my head off the pillow. In the pitch-black darkness, I only saw the outline of their silhouette. Men. Two of them. Within a second, a needle pierced the inner fold of my arm.
“No! What are you do—” I hissed at the liquid burning under my skin.
“Oww… feck, feck.” I pressed the ball of my feet into the mattress as the liquid sizzled through my body.
“Mmmm. It hurts! It’s burning.” The scalding sensation spread and reached my nape.
Although I was willing my body to fight, there was a disconnect, and it wouldn’t move at all.
My eyelids collapsed, but my ears still worked.
“You’re sure you put enough?” a male voice asked as they released me. They weren’t whispering anymore.
My chest was too heavy. I had to use all my energy just to breathe in a little. What’s happening? Who are you! I opened my mouth to ask, but nothing came out.
“Yes. I’m sure.” My left cheek stung after being slapped twice. “See? He didn’t even flinch,” Uncle Ricard replied. I could hear myself struggling to breathe. The most unsettling thing was I I couldn’t tell if I was choking. How long could I survive breathing like this? Only a little at a time?
“Yes. I see that,” the stranger answered. Or was he? I’d heard that voice before, but I couldn’t remember who it belonged to because I was too busy panicking over what they’d already done to me and how difficult it was to lift my chest.
I hated the sound and being trapped in my body, completely awake with all my thoughts.
My heart was racing too fast. Fat droplets of sweat trailed from my forehead, wetting strands of my hair and sticking it to my face.
Stop this! Uncle! Inside, I was screaming, waiting, crying and begging them.
I don’t want to die! Mum! Muuuuuummmm! Please! Please make this stop!
What will they do to us? What are they doing? What are they doing? No! Don’t touch me. Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! The other voices drowned out my own.
With the panic, I’d forgotten to breathe, so I put all my effort into it again, thinking it would be enough for me to gasp a big gulp of air, but it wasn’t.
From the lack of air, a headache banged its way.
In the meantime, fingers crawled into the hem of my underwear and pulled them down.
What are you doing? What are you doing? Someone help me. Help me!
“Oh… he’s such a beautiful boy. You’ve been keeping him away from me for too long. I would have had him trained by now.”
“I’ll be outside. You have five minutes, then I’ll return.”
Five minutes to what? No! I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. The fingers undid the big buttons on my top. A cold breeze swept over my naked body.
A door opened then clicked closed. Uncle? Uncle Ricard? Don’t do this! “You’re perfect. We don’t have much time. So forgive me for not taking this slow. My beautiful boy.” My chest rose and collapsed over and over again, but I was barely getting air into my lungs as his hand—
“Uncleeeee!!!!! Somebody help me!”