On my first night in Edward's house, Edward had his turn with me. Next came John. He was huge and rough and as terrifying and every bit as awful as I had feared he would be. But, after that I went to Benny. He refused to have me handed over to the runners, and instead took me to the bathroom that was just down the hall from his room. I was sobbing with pain and humiliation (I hadn't yet learned to never let John see me cry) and when he offered me a hot bath it seemed like paradise in the midst of hell. I slid into the steamy water and let my aches and pains subside. I'd be sore for a few days to come, but wasn't truly injured. His big hands came into the water and washed me tenderly. Next I knew he was washing my long hair with a gentle touch. Finally, he pulled the stopper and wrapped me in a towel. I followed him down the hall to his room and he shut the door. He rolled us a joint and offered me a line of coke which I declined. I was scared of hard drugs then. More scared of that than this man who was being so gentle. After he snorted and we smoked things were much calmer and less intense. He got me a brush and I brushed out my wet curls before they could become hopeless snarls. Finally he asked if I was ready to go to bed and I said that I was. I steeled myself to be brutalized again. But, Benny's hands were clever and he was patient. Before long I wanted him and I rocked my hips up to rub against him. We came together hard and fast and although i didn't get anywhere near my peak, it wasn't so horrible and it wasn't terrifying. When he was done he told me I was good and that I'd be okay. That I had to get a grip on crying in front of John and the other men but that it was okay to cry in front of him. He told me he wouldn't hurt me. I used my hand to bring him to orgasm again and then we slept, curled together, his strong shoulders holding off the other men who would have brutalized me, and my trust making him feel better about himself than he had since Loni had died.
i don't know what to do with myself now. This blog has been the most therapeutic tool of my life and now i have effectively ended it. What's left to tell? Repetitive stories of abuse. i can tell you again and again how i was used and hurt and about the other girls i saw used and hurt. But, honestly, i don't see the point. Isn't that just flogging a dead horse? If you read what is here, you get the point. i still have flashbacks and nightmares, but i feel silly putting them here. Like an amputee complaining about splinters. What happened happened. It really sucked. But, i'm trying hard to pick up the pieces of my life. i take the handful of pills everyday. i see the shrink. i'm going to be writing about all my little craziness on my Live Journal. Some of it will be locked. Mostly the stuff that deals with my Dissociative Identity Disorder because people don't understand it and they get all squicked out. But, dealing with that is a huge part of my life. i spend a hell of a lot of energy pretending to be normal. i don't know yet what i'm going to do with this page. i know for sure i'll never take it down. Well, unless someone makes me take it down. This is my story. This is what happened to the little girl that i was. She deserves for someone to hear her screams. Now people can and do. But, as for new posts... i don't know. i don't know what to say. Do you really want me to flog the dead horse? i can always lock it away on my LJ and no one need hear about that time with the bat, or the other things that i've held back. i just don't know. The story seems complete.
The next day, i broke up with Jackson. i figured if i was going to be free, i had to really be free. Getting rid of Edward was the tough part, getting rid of Jackson should have been easy. It wasn't. He beat me up and raped me right there at school. People walked around us like it was nothing. When he was done, i repeated what i had said, that i was done with him, and that nothing could make me stay. i pulled my skirt back over my ass, and limped away from him. Fuck him, he couldn't make me go back. This happened at least a dozen more times. With flowers, chocolate, and poems in between. i took the beatings, i withstood the rapes, i threw the gifts away. i was determined not to bend. Finally i bit him on the dick so bad i got a mouth full of blood. After that he was a bit more cautious. i'd like to say it all ended when something or the other happened. But it never really ended. Gradually he gave up beating and raping me. But he called and harassed me right up until my mother died. i guess that's when it stopped. Over ten years from when it started, it stopped with my mother's death. i saw Jackson a couple of years back. It scared me to death. He scares me to death still. But, he is finally out of my life. Except in my nightmares.
i stood on the porch shivering in the cool night air, shocked by what had just happened. i couldn't believe i was alive. i couldn't comprehend that i was free. Just to test this, i unzipped the hated boots one by one. i peeled them away from my thighs and pulled them off my feet. i left them sitting on Edward's porch. Symbols of a girl he'd created and i'd just destroyed. Suddenly the weight of what i'd just done came crashing down on me and i sagged under it. i leaned against Edward's door and wished that i could go in. Go back to the life i knew and understood. But, i knew certain death lay behind that door. And so i pulled myself together as best i could, and i ran. i ran barefoot through the streets away from that house. The next time i'd see it, it would be deserted.
With aching slowness i slid the gun down over his heart. "I'm in with Raven." He called. "Come back in about an hour." i nodded at him as the footsteps retreated down the hall. "Good. Now. Do you plan on letting me go, or do i kill you and they kill me?" He eyed me steadily. "You aren't scared of me anymore are you?" "Nope." "Are you scared of John?" "Nope." "Are you afraid we'll kill Benny?" "Nope." And, i pulled it off without the hesitation that i felt. His shoulders sagged. i slid the silencer into his mouth. "Do you remember that first night? Do you remember bringing me here when i was so scared?" i used the gun to fuck his mouth lightly, letting my hatred and pain bubble over and spew all over him. "Do you remember that little girl? You killed her! You fucking killed her. Now let me go goddammit. Let me go!" He gagged on the silencer. i got a grip on myself and backed away from him. i took aim on the man now on his knees crying. The man who had destroyed my life. i had decided to kill him. When his broken voice reached my ears. "Just go. You're free. Just leave. No one will follow you. Just go."
Outside the door i braced to shoot whoever opened the door. i knew it would likely be someone that i had no reason to kill and that it would bother me. i also knew if i didn't kill them they would simply kill me and there would be no chance of killing Edward. And, i badly wanted to take him with me. i thought there was a good chance that if i even managed to wound Edward that at least some of the girls might go free. And, then my life would have some purpose. And, oh fuck that. i just wanted to hurt him. i couldn't bring myself to hate John because he had worn the chains i wore as a kid. But, Edward i hated with a passion. i wanted him dead. i would settle for injured. i knew i'd probably die before he got a scrape, but, i couldn't resist. i've always been dramatic. i knocked. And to my utter amazement Edward opened the door himself with a curt, "What the fuck?" He was alone. i could smell the sex and quickly realized he had been training the new girl only a short time before. That was probably why Marty hadn't fought me about my lie. i brushed the considerations away as soon as i ascertained she wasn't in the room and jammed the gun against the base of his throat, clicking the safety off with one smooth motion. "Who is coming and when are they coming?" He reached for the gun. i pulled the hammer back. "Go ahead," his fingers froze. He stared at me in horror, "mother fucker. After i'm done blowing out your brains, i'm going to go down the hall and fuck {his daughter} with this gun. i'm going to walk out of here with her, and you know they'll let me go if i have the gun to her head. Do you think she's a virgin? She won't be for long, cause i'm gonna take her to Sugar's with me. And, she can go to that fucking warehouse! She can fucking go to that hell on earth. Everything you've done to me, i've already done to her. i've already done it, you son of a bitch!" i realized my voice was rising and i kicked the door closed. He stared at me like he had never seen such a creature as me. i suppose he hadn't. i'm sure no girl of his had ever threatened his daughter. i knew i was dead, but i didn't care one whit. It was worth it to see the genuine fear in his eyes. "Raven, please. What do you want? What do you want, for fuck's sake?" i considered telling him i wanted the last two years of my life back. That i wanted my son back. That i wanted April and Ebony and all the other girls back. Impossible things. i considered telling him that because i really wanted to kill him and i was pretty far gone in not caring about my life. But, some part of me wanted to survive and so i said, "Freedom. i want you to let me walk out of here. i want to be Suzy High School." Just then there was a knock at the door.
Benny kept two massive hand guns loaded and in good working order in his room. i had never laid a finger on them but i had watched him operate them many times. He target shot and took me along. i knew what the recoil would be and that my skinny ass had best hang on for dear life. i knew how to screw the silencer down on them. i chose a day when Benny had fixed, for i desperately didn't want to kill him, but there was no guarantee if he rushed to the scene. Best to keep things as quiet as possible. i gazed down at his sleeping face and wondered what hell he'd pay after they'd killed me. After all, he let me get my hands on his gun. i wavered but then looked at his damned works. He loved that poison better than me. Fuck him. i brushed a kiss on his cheek and stole from the room. It was quiet, about 5 am. All the girls were in and John was down for the night. Marty raised an eyebrow at me when i appeared, fully dressed and in a jacket (to conceal the gun tucked in the back of my skirt)but didn't argue when i said Edward had wanted me up early for an appointment. That i was to meet him in his office. He was high, they were always high. i crept up the backstairs. To my surprise the light was actually on in Edward's office. i turned that way and mentally whispered goodbye to Iris and Jenny and Franklin. my sisters. The mama and daddy who had no idea where i was.
After a month straight of listening to how Benny couldn't leave his drugs and a progressively worse stream of clients from John i was at a breaking point. my fear of death was gone. If things got too hairy and i had to bail, i had a place to go. my rage was at an ultimate peak. i decided to die on a Sunny day in October.
i was angry and sullen. The lesson John had set out to teach me had backfired. He wanted me to learn that i was powerless and worthless. i had learned i wasn't afraid to die. That there were things worse than death. i was no longer much afraid of John. Or pain. Or being degraded. There wasn't much i was afraid of. John picked up on this right away of course, and was infuriated even farther. He expected me to come back and lick his boots. He expected me broken. Instead i had snapped. i was a loose cannon and ordinarily i would have been put down. But, Mr. Cattlet paid them so much money.
Edward had me to the doc, and i had to have a back tooth pulled due to malnutrition but otherwise there were no lasting physical effects from my time spent "away." That's how they referred to it. As though i had been on a goddamn trip to the fucking Bahamas or something. Edward got a new girl while i was away. John broke Lindy's arm while i was away. April died while i was away. In other words the cocksucking bastards went on being cocksucking bastards while i was dying by inches elsewhere without thought that i was dying by inches elsewhere. And, somehow, even though i had known this would be the case... it rubbed my fur the wrong way. Scrubbed it good and hard in the wrong direction.
i've been thinking a lot lately about how i always seemed to bring out the worst in people. What was it in me that made people howl at the moon? my Granddaddy, JH, Jackson, clients. These people were worse with me than the rest of the world. What was it about me? It bugs the hell out of me. i'm looking for a story to tell. Something that doesn't make me feel too nutty but that has a purpose in telling. i just... seem to be saying a lot of nothing lately. Have i run out of things to say? Maybe its time to force out that last night. Or maybe beyond that, the last couple of times Jackson raped me. He was determined, but i wasn't having it. i've tried to write about the basement every way i know how. i just don't think its going to happen. There was once a little girl who was dragged into a basement, tied up by the neck and then tortured. Bottles stuck in her, animals killed, cuts, beatings, chemicals to make her sick and take away her breath and scar her lungs, poisoned food. She lived but she went insane. Maybe she lived because she went insane. It sucks a nut, but its how it played out. Maybe some day i'll be able to tell more. For now, i know i can't. i've tried. It doesn't work. A wise lady i know said some things aren't meant to be written. At this point, this is one of those things. So i'll finish Edward's as much as i can.
