Page 24 of Lethal
My lips tremble, but I force the words through them, even though it feels like my mouth is filled with shards of glass. “I was eighteen, and Thomas was seventeen. Cecelia was only twelve. She used to cry all the time, and flinched whenever he entered a room. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, and attributed it to siblings who didn’t get along. Her eyes held nothing but fear when she looked at him, even though she tried to pretend otherwise. There were moments when I couldn’t deny my suspicions. Their behavior was too odd for just sibling rivalry. Then there were the locked doors, and bruises visible in places she couldn’t have hurt herself, but she never said anything. She lost her spark, and became so withdrawn that nothing seemed to make her happy, and she gave up all the things she had loved to do. She became sullen, withdrawn, and quiet. The change in her was dramatic, but her parents were too busy to ever notice. Plus,hewas their golden child, and could do no wrong in their eyes.”
Bash doesn’t utter a word, his eyes focused on me, urging me on, and Wren is silent for once, stilling inside of me, until I can still feel his presence stretching me, but he remains frozen, lost to my words. The room narrows to the size of my voice, and I force the next words out through gritted teeth. “I walked in on them once. He must have forgotten to lock the door in his eagerness. She was so still, so tiny, just lying there with tears pouring down her small face, and his hand covering her mouth, as he raped her.” I shake, the jacket tightening around me, like it knows what I’m finally admitting.
I force myself to swallow the sour bile that rises at the back of my throat. “I didn’t tell anyone. I... Icouldn’t. No one would believe me. Their father was a judge, and their mother was the beloved mayor. My father was a coward who had never stood foranything in his life, and my mother was the town drunk. They would have called me a liar, and it would have made it worse for Cecelia. I... I couldn’t bear that.”
“So what did you do?” Bash questions, his voice like glass embedding itself deep in my heart, cutting me open until all of me bleeds out. I close my eyes and take a shuddering breath, the scene replaying horrifically over in my mind. I could still smell his nauseating sweat, and her fear permeating the room. The way the dim lamp light casts shadows across the light gray walls. Her terrified green eyes, when they met mine, were filled with shame and fear, begging me to save her. The way he scrambled off of her, and tried to intimidate me with his larger size. How her small body scrunched into the fetal position, as she sobbed in desperation, shame, and pain.
“I got violent with him, hitting and punching him, but he didn’t even seem to feel it. I tried to stab him with a fragment of broken glass from a vase I threw at him, but he just pushed me away, as if I were nothing but a weak, annoying fly he could swat at. I told him I’d tell everyone, I said I’d go to the press, that I’d put it everywhere on the internet, and ruin his parents’ careers, ruin all their lives. That he would be exposed, and shunned as a pedophile, and his dreams of playing pro ball would be dust. He didn’t believe my threats, and he wasn’t intimidated at first. He tried to hurt her again.”
My lips press together in a tight line, unsure if I want to divulge any more of what I’ve kept locked deep inside of myself, but at Bash’s encouraging expression, I decide there is no point in holding anything back. I’ve already damned myself with my actions in this room. “I sent anonymous emails to his parents, hinting at what a monster he was, until they refused to leave him alone with Cecelia, and a nanny was hired, but still they allowed him to continue living there. I contacted child protective services anonymously, and told them what was happening withCecelia, and they removed her from the home for a few months, but then they brought her back into that pit of snakes. I claimed secretly to be the girl he raped, on the town forums, and on social media with fake profiles. I got him kicked off the football team permanently, and our school expelled him, ruining his chances of graduating, but still, I had to do more to hurt him. So I contacted university scouts, and told them he was a rapist, so no school would ever touch him. Even with all that, it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t broken yet, not fully like her. I turned all his friends and teammates against him, and made girls leery of being alone with him. He was shunned everywhere he went, and dived deeper and deeper into depression and rage.”
A deep breath leaves me, and with it, I feel some of the weight that I’ve carried all this time lifting. “I used sex to bribe an older man, one that I knew had ties to a motorcycle club, to run him off the road one day when he was on the way home from a party. Thomas hit a tree and totaled the car, and the guy made sure that Thomas reeked of alcohol, and that heroin was found in his system, and in the car, so he appeared under the influence. The police had no choice but to charge him with a DUI, and reckless driving, tarnishing his golden boy image, but that wasn’t enough for me. I needed to do more. I needed to destroy everything that he valued, just like he had done to Cecelia. He actually ended up getting hooked on the heroin, and I made sure he always had a steady supply, using my body as a weapon with the local drug dealers, to destroy him.”
A tear slides down the corner of my eye, as all the memories of my desperate moves roll through me. I was a child myself, not knowing how best to protect my cousin from a predator. I did everything I could think of, short of killing him, and even then, if I’m honest with myself, I wanted to. It all became a sick need inside of me; the more destruction I caused, the more I craved. “I got my new motorcycle friends to vandalize Thomas’ parents’house, and spray paint the word ‘rapist’ in large letters on the very front, so everyone in their prestigious neighborhood could see. Their neighbors all shunned them, and demanded that they leave their gated community. His mother lost her job, as her colleagues in the mayor’s office called for her resignation, until the suspicion surrounding her son was cleared up. His father was next on my target list. He refused to see the demon his son was, so I planted evidence that he was cheating on his wife with young escorts, and released them to the media, ripping their family apart. I did everything I could to make him feel like the world was closing in, and he had nowhere safe to run and hide. It was how Cecelia felt, how she had lived with her lack of innocence, thanks to him.”
Wren’s voice slithers forward, almost reverent, and his hand slides tenderly along the jacket’s back, grasping onto my confined arms and squeezing, as if he’s willing me some of his strength through his touch. “And?”
“I made sure the next hit of drugs the dealer sold him was so strong that it caused him hallucinations. He went on a rampage, and destroyed everything in his parents’ house. He slit his wrists, and hanged himself in the garage, when everyone was away. They found the smell before they found him, due to the heat.”
Thick silence fills the room, so dense that it’s choking me. My next words crack in my throat. “And the worst part? I was there, egging him on in person, feeding into his delusions, and telling him the only thing that would stop the pain, and being an embarrassment to his family, was if he died. I was morbidly happy, watching him self-destruct to the point of complete devastation. I...I was the one who hung the rope from the rafters in the garage, and left the knife for him.I wasglad he died.I... I wanted him to... suffer. I wanted him to feel the misery and pain he had put her through. I was almost jealous that I didn’tget to do it myself. I watched him hang there, his face turning purple, and his eyes bulging. There was a moment when he must have realized what he did, and tried to undo it, but he couldn’t. It was too late. His eyes met mine, and pleaded with me to save him, but instead, I just stood there in the doorway and watched him take his last ragged breath. I stepped forward, grabbing the bloody knife. I wanted to stab him, to carve him open and rip out his heart, like he did to her, but I had to stop myself. I needed it to be categorized as a suicide. I couldn’t bear to be away from Cecelia for good. I couldn’t risk being taken to jail for murder. I wanted... no, Ineededhis face to rot, to know he was under the ground once and for all, where he couldn’t hurt her anymore. I hadn’t thought it all through properly. I left him hanging there, and when Cecilia and her mother returned, she was the one who found him. I never intended for that to happen. I… I didn’t want to add to her trauma, but I failed her.”
My voice is shot, and all that’s left is just my breath, and tears now. They know now, they know what a dark, disgusting monster lives inside of me. The one who thoroughly enjoyed his pain and misery. The one that is just like them.“And I never told Cecelia what I had done. I never toldanyone, until now.”
I wait for their judgment, or acceptance, with bated breath. Everything in me is terrified that they won’t want me anymore, not because I’m tarnished, just like they are, but perhaps because I’m not enough, but Bash only leans closer, his lips brushing my temple. “There she is,my little toy.”
Wren breathes out a delighted hum behind me, and begins moving again inside my cunt. “Pretty little killer, hiding in a doctor’s coat.”
Bash touches my face, like he’s holding something holy and precious to him. “You don’t have to run from it anymore. You’re free now, little toy.”
“I can’t breathe,” I whimper as Wren picks up speed again, barreling into my body, seeking his own satisfaction. Bash brushes his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear.
“You can, for the first time. You belong to us now. Nothing but us can hurt you now.”
“Bash, can we fuck her ass now together? The voices are telling me to take my turn in that hole, but I don’t want you to be mad,” Wren grunts as he fills my pussy with his cum, and leans his body over me, crushing me to the desktop, and his teeth find my neck, biting down and making me scream.
“Of course, brother, we’ll fuck all her holes together. She belongs to us now.” Bash gets up and moves behind me, joining Wren, and I release a pent-up breath, feeling lighter than I have in years. It’s as if the weight of the sins I’ve carried, for so long, have been wiped clean, and I am reborn.
I don’t know what I am anymore, but I know what they see when they look at me now. One of them, and God help me… I want to be.
My mind is filled with a rancorous thunder of all the voices clashing, and shouting over one another to be heard. I stare between my brother and my sweet, broken porcelain doll.She said it, she let it out loud.She claimed her sins, the ones that pollute her like mine do me, covering her in a thick tar she will never be free from.
She’s one of us,theteenage boy crows.
She’s filth,the stern woman rebukes.
She’s beautiful,the young voice sings.
She’s a liar. A murderer. A dirty, depraved queen,the young woman whispers.
Take her. Bleed her. Hold her down until she takes her last breath,the clown urges.
Ours, she will never be able to escape us now,the gruff, angry male growls.
My brain hurts from all of their ferocity. I press my palms against my temples, and rock back and forth, trying to soothe myself. My skull is splitting open, too many thoughts oozing through the cracks. I want to laugh and scream. I want to kiss her so softly that she forgets the monster I am.
No, no, NO! She’ll take him from us. She’ll take Bash,the young woman calls out in fear. No, my brother would never leave me; we’re the same coin, just different sides. There is no me without him, and I know he feels the same, doesn’t he?
“Wren, look at me,” Bash’s voice attempts to penetrate through the fog, but it’s too thick.
