Chapter 33 #2
My sobs turn into gasps for air. I no longer make a sound as my face stretches into a painful, silent cry. It’s as though I’m crying on mute.
The quiet sobs continue to rack my body, my shoulders tense but shaking from the force of my cries. My lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen, each silent wail taking seconds of air from my body as I try to fight through them.
I feel like I’m dying.
The ache. This pain. It just keeps getting more intense.
Every memory.
Every vow.
Every lie.
“PLEASE!” I shout up at the sky, finally able to release the words pent up and trapped in those torturous cries. “PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!”
I slam my hands on my horn, leaving them there as the sharp honk blares out into the night. The harsh sound against the quiet countryside is exactly the release I need.
I finally pull it together enough to start my car and pull away from the side of the road. It’s a mindless drive home. I don’t even know how I get there. I don’t remember passing stoplights or stop signs. I don’t remember seeing other vehicles on the road. I’m just…here.
Here…and numb.
My thoughts are blank. My body doesn’t feel like my own. I drove to Nate’s house as Ellie, and I came home a different person. Someone that I no longer recognize.
I pull into my driveway and see that the garage door is open. The orange glow coming from the fire pit tells me that the neighbor is over drinking beers with my dad.
I get out of my car and walk toward the front door as quietly as I can, but the crunch of gravel under my heels betrays me.
“Well, shit. Who is this beauty walking toward me like an angel in red?” My neighbor Pauly practically drools as he stares at me.
“It’s Ellie, yah perv.” His son, Randy, laughs.
Pauly sits across from my dad on the opposite side of the fire pit, Randy sits at his side. Both don’t take their eyes off me as I walk toward the front door.
Randy is eighteen, but still lives at home. He works at the same construction company as his dad and has no real plans to leave this city…or Pauly’s house.
“Little Ellie, that right? Haven’t seen much of yah this year. You’re growing up real nice. How old are ya now, sweet girl?”
“Seventeen in three weeks,” my dad interjects, and I hate the implication of it. His shit-eating grin makes me want to get back in my car and run him over with it.
“Seventeen is legal in damn near every state, including this one,” Pauly jokes, but I can tell there is real interest there.
“Ignore these assholes, Ellie.” Randy rolls his eyes. “Come have a drink with us.” He pulls out a beer from the cooler and holds it out in my direction. This should cause concern, a man offering me a beer in front of my father. But it doesn’t. My dad doesn’t even care enough to notice.
I look at the beer in his hand, every instinct screaming at me to keep walking toward the front door.
But I’m numb, and I want to continue this feeling.
I know if I walk to my room right now, the memories of Nate’s bed will plague me.
I haven’t slept at home in months. Being in my bed tonight…
it’s going to be a constant reminder of what I lost.
Of what I never had.
Rather than do the smart thing, I walk toward Randy and take the beer from his hand. I flip the tab and chug the whole thing in one gulp.
“Well okay, Ellie. How about another?” he asks. I wipe my mouth and nod my head.
Five more times.
I hear my phone chime and pull it out of my purse to see who is texting me so late.
My hands are wet from the condensation on my beer bottle, so I lose my grip on my phone, causing it to crash onto the hard concrete.
The screen is cracked beyond repair. I’m so drunk, I suddenly lack all common sense.
I toss my broken phone into the fire with no plans to replace it.
The only people that call or text me on it are Nate and Emmy, anyway.
There’s no use for it anymore.
When I finally feel numb enough to sleep through the night, I excuse myself despite Pauly’s protests, and head to my room.
I remove my beautiful red dress, and leave it crumpled in a heap on the floor.
I’ll never be able to look at that gown again.
I get into bed naked and pull the covers up to my chin.
Everything is spinning, so I try to ground myself by placing my hands on the headboard behind me.
Several minutes later, the dizziness subsides, and I feel myself start to doze off.
As soon as my eyes shutter closed, they spring back open at the sound of my door handle jiggling.
My heart rate doubles, and my palms sweat as I grip the mattress beneath me.
I get ready to scream, fight, and claw my way out of this room, terrified it will be my dad on the other end of that door.
A second later it cracks open, light from the hallway spills into my room and I’m able to make out the face of the man stepping inside.
Not my dad.
Randy.
He stares at me from the entrance of my room, our eyes connecting for several seconds before he turns away and closes the door behind him. Our eyes connect for another moment, and then he is removing his shirt.
His pants.
His boxers.
I don’t say anything. I don’t tell him no. I don’t call for help.
Help that won’t come anyway.
I don’t scream. I don’t even try to get up.
I just don’t care.
I lie there and stare at him as he walks toward me. I tilt my head, curious at what his plan is, but drunk enough that I don’t truly care.
I lost my protector. I lost the safety of his arms. The safety of his bed. There are much worse things that can happen to me at home, so I welcome this. I’d rather it be Randy in here than Pauly or my father.
He lowers the blanket covering my body and climbs on top of me.
I let him.
Letting him gives me the control. Would Randy force himself on me if I said no? I don’t know. I’d like to think he wouldn’t. But if I say no, and he doesn’t stop, what happens next is no longer my decision. It becomes his decision, and that is something I don’t think I can handle.
This…what’s happening right now? It helps me stay numb. I don’t want to feel. Or think. Or care. Randy is giving me an out, and I’m going to take it.
I don’t kiss him back when he kisses me.
I don’t touch him the way he touches me.
I just lay there and let him have what he wants. I let him take what he wants.
And I continue to let him take it for the next two years.