Page 22 of The Dirty Saint

She holds up her broken finger and grins.

“I’m also presuming he’s dead by the way you’re talking about him.”

I make my way over to her.

“And you’re sure that that’s all,” I ask.

“Oh,” she perks up. “I must have left out the part where he has a small cock, just like the four of you.”

5

Chapter Five

Before/After

EZRA

January 6th, 2018

Dear Diary,

I have been waking up every morning, screaming, sweating, feeling Caleb deep inside me. It is a haunting feeling. I hate it. I keep hoping it will go away with time, but it’s been two weeks, and the pain is still lingering.

I haven’t told anyone. Not my friends. Or family. I feel like if I keep it a secret, then somehow it will be like it never happened.

Caleb and I haven’t had contact since that day. I see him in school, passing by in the hallway, but we avoid eye contact at all costs. I don’t even knowwhat we would talk about anymore. He fucking ruined everything.

I feel so dirty. I shower every day, trying to scrub his whole body and scent off my skin. But I still feel so gross. Hideous. I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror.

He touched me. I had never been touched by a man like that before. It was gentle. Tender. And sweet. How could it have gone so horribly wrong?

A few days ago, I started cutting myself. I’m not suicidal; at least, I don’t think I am. I guess I just needed something to help relieve all the pain and angst. I don’t know if it’s been working, but it’s something to keep me distracted. Suck up my time.

I know I probably shouldn’t feel bad for myself. Far worse things have happened to people. But still. It isn’t fair.

One day, I will make sure Caleb Santo pays for what he did to me. And one day, I plan on hurting him just like he hurt me.

Present Day

I stand naked in front of the mirror, examining all the parts of my body. My towel has dropped to the floor, and I didn’t care enough to pick it up, so here I am, exposed fully to myself.

I trace a finger over my C-section scar. God, what a special day that was.

Next to it lies the aftermath of what I was forced to survive.

I don’t regret how I kept myself alive because, for whatever reason, my ways worked. I made it out. Maybe not with all my previous pieces intact, but at least I’m not sharing hell with Caleb Santo.

I take another glance at my stomach.Noah. I should have been smarter for my son.Thatis the only guilt I will grow with as the years go on.

Deciding to head into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, I wrap a towel around myself. I hear Noah playing with his toys.

“Hey, bud, what are you—”

I immediately freeze in place when he and I lock eyes. My heart suddenly bursts into a screaming fit.

The man grins.

“Hi, Ez. How’ve you been?”

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