Pocketful of Sand

“When that week was over, I knew I had to tell Lucy. I thought she would help me. She had to help me. When I came home from school that Monday, I waited for her. I didn’t know she was working late. Ryan brought takeout, like he was this caring, doting uncle. We watched a movie. He even made popcorn. It was so…normal in the sickest, most twisted way in the world. But it was always there underneath–the knowledge of what was coming. Like a clock ticking away the minutes. Or a bomb counting down to explosion. I was so afraid to go to bed, I fell asleep on the couch that night. I didn’t wake up until he was carrying me up the stairs.

“I pretended to be asleep, but that didn’t stop him. I didn’t fight him. I knew it would be no use. I just wanted it to be over so I could go to sleep. And then tell Lucy in the morning. Only there was no need.” I pause, reliving that sinking moment like it happened only seconds ago rather than years. “I didn’t see her standing in the doorway until Ryan rolled me over onto my stomach. I don’t know how long she’d been watching. Or how many nights she’d stood in that doorway. I think probably most of them.”

My heart squeezes painfully at the memory of how hopeless that moment felt. I’d never felt so alone, so afraid. But I had no idea how much worse it would get.

“I guess once I saw her, she stopped trying to pretend that she didn’t know. Or that she didn’t enjoy it. I remember watching her walk to the bed that night. Her eyes on mine. I thought for just a second that she was going to stop him. I hoped against hope that she would. Prayed that she would. Only she didn’t. She just stood at the end of the bed, looking up at me for a long time before she started undressing.”

Bile rises in the back of my throat like acid, bubbling up from a corroded wound, long hidden and neglected. “Lucy had it all. Had her act together. Or so everyone thought. But no one knew. Not really. As smart as she was, though, even she didn’t stop to think about birth control. That or Ryan lied to her. I’m not sure which. Either way, I think he wanted me to get pregnant. Sometimes after he’d…” I trail off. I can’t even force the words past my lips. “Afterward, he would push it all back up in me and tell me to stay curled up on my side. He’d wrap his arms around me to make sure I stayed still.” A small whimper moves into my chest and I force it back down. “And if that was what he was after, he got it. It worked. I found out four weeks later that I was pregnant. Not quite sixteen years old and pregnant by my guardian’s husband.”

I continue, trying to be matter-of-fact. And probably not succeeding.

“Lucy didn’t say much other than that she was pulling me out of school. She said Ryan could homeschool me since we were there together all day. I hadn’t been there that long, so I had no friends that I could go to, I couldn’t reach my parents. I was just stuck. I kept thinking to myself that as soon as I had the baby, I’d run away. I knew I couldn’t make it until after that. At the time, I didn’t even want the baby. I thought maybe they’d keep it and let me go. Not even look for me. And if they wouldn’t, I was going to kill myself. I even had it planned out, just in case. But that was before I met Emmy.”

Even in the midst of such painful, humiliating memories, I feel a peace come over me just speaking her name. Emmy saved my life. “The minute I saw her, I knew I could never leave her. That I could never live without her. Somehow, she became my whole world the moment she drew breath. She became my reason for living, for surviving. But they knew that. Lucy and Ryan, they both knew. They knew all they had to do was threaten me with her–threaten to take her away, threaten to hurt her, threaten to have me declared an unfit mother–and I’d do whatever they wanted. And so they got their way. They got a sex toy when they were bored with their underground parties and I kept my mouth shut as long as they left Emmy alone. They knew I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her. I’d be a slave for her. I’d give up everything I am for her. She was the only reason I stayed and they knew it. They knew I wouldn’t risk not being able to care for her. Or losing her to Ryan, if he ever chose to try to take her. I was just a kid, all alone with a child of my own. A kid with nothing.”

I gulp, my mouth dry as a bone. My heart races at a sickening pace as I prepare myself for the rest of the story. For the worst part. For the part that scares me the most.

Finally, I glance up at Cole. I wonder if he can see the blood and the tissue as someone tears into my chest with a butcher knife, ripping tendon from muscle, flesh from bone. Because that’s what it feels like is happening. Every time I think about it, I’m shredded, all the way to my soul.

Cole shakes his head. “No. Don’t tell me…”

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