Page 18 of Control

“I won’t ask that of you,” I said to Reyna, still stroking her hair and rubbing her ears for her. “I’m not like that. I don’t abuse my subs.” With that, Reyna turned her head toward my body so she could look up to me. I took my hand from her ear and began lightly caressing her cheek with my thumb, a small amount of powder from her makeup rubbing off on it.

“Why,” she asked me in a light and almost loving voice. “It’s OK if you do. I’m used to it.”

My God…why did you have to say that?

“No,” I said. “ I won’t ever do that. It’s…it’s not right. No one should be used in that way against their will.” I didn’t even realize at the time that I had made the assumption that Reyna had been used to being abused. My mind was already entering that dark place. I could see him there again. I could see the bathroom floor and the shower behind me.

“Are you alright?” Reyna asked, noticing that I’d started to stare off into nothing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I said as I felt my eyes leaving her and looking over to a blank space on the wall. I could hear his voice again. His scowl was bearing down on me as I crawled on the floor, the tile wet and a bath towel barely covering my body. I could feel my skin burning and my eyes were red and swollen from the tears he’d forced out of me. “I’m…fine.”

I was losing control.

“I….” I felt myself begin to shake as if I were back in the real world. “I can’t.”

“Ana?” Reyna said as I pulled myself out from under her. “Ana, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I felt the tears welling in my eyes. “I can’t do this.” I walked through the dining room and into my bedroom and covered my face. I could feel the visions coming back to me and they were all just as clear to me as the day they happened. I could feel another presence with us in my suite, but couldn’t see anyone else there. I could hear that song again…that god damn song.

“Ana!” Reyna called out. “Ana, wait. Stop! What’s happening?” I could feel my breathing getting heavier as the flashback took hold of me. I couldn’t stop it. I’d never had one in Aurora before. I’d had dozens of them in real life, but never there. I’d always known everything in Aurora was hyper realistic, but this was as if I were reliving it moment by moment. I could feel him getting closer to me. I could see him pulling the slide back on the gun and pointing it to my head. I remembered my hair sticking to my cheeks and getting caught in my mouth. As the first tears fell from my reddened eyes, I finally saw the presence that I’d felt just moments before. It wasn’t really him, but my trauma-filled mind subconsciously creating something all on its’ own that only I could see. It looked exactly as he did on that day, the day he showed me the monster he really was. It was a sort of living memory, a ghost. A “phantom.”

I could hear Reyna’s shoes shuffling toward me as I went down to my knees in the corner of my bedroom. That was the last I heard of her before I began to hear his voice again. I could hear him calling out to me, mocking me. The Xanax and jealousy was talking for him.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” he said to me, raising his voice and following my head movement with the gun barrel.

“Please, Will!” I said as I moved backward along the white bathroom tile. I could feel myself getting closer to the bath tub where he’d, just minutes earlier, forced me to shower in front of him to wash the stench of those “other men” from my body. I broke eye contact with him and caught a glimpse of my arm. My skin was bright red from having been forced to shower in the scalding hot water.

“Is this what you want me to do?” he said to me, his eyes wild and full of anger.

“Please stop!” I somehow managed to get out. I was barely able to form words, my fear reaching a critical point and my breathing almost uncontrollable. The distinct feeling I might go into cardiac arrest from my heart beating so hard was firmly entrenched in my mind.

“Say it with me!” he said, referring to the lyrics of one of my favorite Deftones songs. “I pulled off your wings! Sing it with me!” I shook my head and cried harder than I’d ever cried in my life as my husband, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, threatened to end me. He’d become hooked on Xanax, a prescription drug he’d gotten from his primary care doctor. His doses started out fine at first, but within two weeks he was taking far too many pills and was becoming unstable.

Since before we were married, he’d gotten it in his head that I had been sleeping with other men. Some would say that my previous real life profession of being an exotic dancer isn’t too dissimilar from what I did in Aurora for a time as an escort. While I’d agree they both involve me being a sex worker, I had never slept with any of my clients when I was dancing. Men often feel that if they have a wife or girlfriend that dances for a living that they would be able to handle it. I would learn the hard way as many of my former co-workers did that no, most men cannot handle knowing that their significant other is at work sitting on the laps of horny men, offering them companionship and a sensual show for money. They may be able to temper their jealousy for a time, but it eventually boils over and when it does, it can be extreme. I’d heard of marriages ending and women being beaten and even killed over their work by a jealous husband or boyfriend. I’d never thought in my life that I would become one of them.

“Why won’t you sing!” Will screamed at me as I bumped my head against the side of the bathtub. I looked down and away from his face as he shouted, hoping that he just might realize what he was doing and stop. I remember seeing his bare feet as they slid across the floor, inching ever closer and causing me to back up until I had my shoulders against the tub and my bath towel was barely on my body. He forcefully took my long, black locks in his left hand. “Are you all clean now?”

Lowering the gun, Will pulled me by the hair and dragged me across the soaking wet tile and out of the bathroom. He yanked me into the bedroom where he set the gun down on the dresser and lifted me by the hair onto the mattress. I could feel some of my hair ripping from my scalp which caused me to grab onto his arm with both hands in hopes of lessening the pain. My towel, no longer clinging to my burned and bruised body, was left hanging off the edge of the mattress. He pulled me further onto the bed and turned me onto my belly, pinning me down with his body weight.

Wrapping his left hand around my neck, Will pulled down his silver basketball shorts with his right and forced himself on me, having been convince the scalding hot water had rinsed away the stench of those “other men.” He ravaged my body with a ferocity I’d never seen from him before. He tore at my skin with his free hand as he held me in place with his other. I closed my eyes and with each thrust from him, I prayed for it to end and hoped that it was all just a horrible nightmare. After for what felt like an eternity, he lifted himself off of me, slide off the bed, and stood up. He then grabbed me by my ankle and yanked me off from on top of the mattress.

“You’re not even good enough to cum in!” he shouted as pulled me to the floor. “Get off my fucking bed.” My head bounced onto the carpeted floor as I fell which dazed me. After a moment, I turned my body over only to see him still standing above me. I met his eyes for a brief moment before instinctively crawling away from him and into the corner of the room which wasn’t far from where I was. I covered my upper body with my arms and used my hands to shield my face in case any other attacks were to come. My eyes covered and almost swollen shut with tears and a beating the likes of which I’d never felt before, I heard him grab his clothes and walk out of the room and back into the bathroom where he slammed the door shut.

I stayed in the corner, my hands still covering most of my face when my survival instinct kicked in.

Go! Get out now! Run!

I hesitated. I don’t know why. I felt paralyzed. It was as if my legs weren’t a part of my body anymore.

You must go! Run! Just run!

Something deep inside of me took hold and before I knew it, I was up on my feet and pulling the sheet from the bed where I was just violated. I ran out of the bedroom and to the living room, grabbing my phone and wrapping the sheet around my body, not caring if he heard me. I flung the front door open without thinking, causing it to slam against the inside wall which alerted Will that I was running. As I ran outside and down the corridor of our apartment complex, I could hear his voice yelling out and the slapping of his bare feet on the concrete as she chased me. I didn’t look back. All I knew was I had to run. I had to get away.

I’d managed to get to next apartment building over and hid on the second floor corridor, hiding behind a makeshift wall that had been erected while they completed some major repairs on the building. My body fell back against the wall and I slid down. The sheet, now wet from my hair and stained with spots of blood from the many wounds Will had given me, stuck to my body. I instinctively called 911 from my phone and gave all of my information to the operator. I told them my husband was having a mental break from reality and that he had a gun. Within a minute, I could the siren from a police car. I peeked around the corner of the wall and saw the first squad car arrive, slamming on their brakes and screeching to a halt not far from my apartment door which was among the first you could access from the curb.

With no other thought in my head but survival, I forced myself onto my feet and sprinted down the stairs and to the cop car as the officer got out. He turned to me and did a double take, realizing that the victim in all this was running toward him looking for rescue. He reached his hands out and stopped me just before I barreled into him. Putting his arm around my shoulder, he led me around to the back of the cop car and instructed me to get down, knowing that Will had a gun inside with him and not sure if he would try to use it. The officer stayed there with me for a minute until another car, sirens blaring and lights flashing, pulled up in front of the first car to offer us additional cover.

“Stay here!” the officer said to me. “He has a gun, right?” I nodded my head as my body shook and my phone fell out of my hand, the 911 operator still on the other end. “OK, just stay here and stay down until we figure out what’s happening.” I nodded my head again. He then left me there to lean against the squad car bumper while he joined the other officer at his car. A third car pulled up and again offered more cover. This time a female officer got out and ran to me.

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