To Become

1:12am - Tears



It's almost 1. I can't sleep. The nyquil didn't make me drowsy. I cried. Greg was leaving to go upstairs, and he heard me. He unlocked the cell and sat next to me for a while. He stroked my hair. It felt nice and comforting. I don't know what happened but next I remember is that I was crying into his shirt. He just sat there and held me. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. An hour. I stopped crying, and he picked me up and took me to his office. He set me down on the table and told me to stay there. I did. He brought my journal in. He told me to write. That's what I'm doing.



Why was I crying? I haven't cried in so long. I hope Sara didn't hear me. I'd hate myself if she did.



It happened so suddenly. I sniffed and then there was a salty taste in my mouth. I reached up my hand and felt my cheek. It was wet. I was scared. I couldn't cry. I can't let them know that I'm crying. Too late for that.



Maybe I'm homesick. I can't go back. Once they're through with me, when I'm no longer of use to them, they'll dispose of me. My body will be chopped into pieces and then burned. All that is left will be ashes. They'll scatter them into the trees like I never existed at all. My existence will be worth nothing. I want to believe that they care about me and that that was why they abused me. When a father loves his daughter too much, he goes too far, but he still loves her right? The wrong kind of love. It doesn't matter that I'm just a toy to them to use how they please. I still feel the warmth of their arms around me, their body on top of mine. The touch of another human being when you've been taken away from all of those you love, brings happiness beyond reason no matter what sort of touch it is. I'm still alive. That's all that matters. Right?



Greg is sitting at his desk watching me. I hope he doesn't think I'm completely weak now that he's seen me fall. I swore to never show them that sort of satisfaction again. And yet, I did afterall.



I wish he would hold me again. I want to curl up in his arms and feel safe. Him protecting me like I know he will. Protect me from all the monsters in the night. I want to touch him, to feel him. I want him to kiss me like the others. I want him to touch me all over. I want him to know that I'm not frightened. I want him to know that I can be the best little girl, perfect.



I'll show him what I can do. Then he'll be proud of me.



Butterfly



I cried because I'm flawed

but I will never let him know why

Oh how I wish that I was you

so far away I'd fly



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1:24pm - Drugs



Ryan came downstairs to Greg's office this morning right after I stopped writing. He asked Greg what he was doing, and he nodded in my direction. Ryan walked over to me and asked why I was still awake. I told him that I couldn't sleep. He touched my face. "You've been crying." I told him that I was sorry and that I wouldn't do it again. He shook his head and said that it was alright to cry every once in a while.

He turned to Greg and told him that I needed to sleep. "Drug her." I let Ryan know that I didn't need it, but Greg reminded me that Ryan owned me, and what he says goes. I stayed still while Greg put the needle in my arm. When he removed it, Ryan picked me up and carried me to the cell. He laid me down on the cot and covered me up with the sheet, but by that time, I was already asleep.

Ryan owns me? I belong to him? It's like I'm a pet. It's like I'm their bitch. I am their bitch. I should be used to it. I get called that everyday. Most of the time anyway. I try to ignore it. I tell myself that I'm not. Is there really a way for me to believe that with the way that I'm treated?

I had a strange dream. Drugs must make people do crazy things. I dreamt that I was a butterfly. I was flying peacefully amongst the flowers. Suddenly the whole sky turned black and a hand reached out and grabbed me. That very same hand tore off my beautiful wings then dropped me on the ground to die. Without my wings, I had no reason to live anymore. Rain started falling from the clouds like the sky was crying the tears that I could not. All my hopes were ripped away. I was no longer beautiful. My life had no meaning anymore. I was meant to wander the cold ground, broken and torn. The ground suddenly began to shake with an earthquake that was rumbling down the hills. The ground beneath me began to crack, and I was falling. I screamed, but it was already over. I had woken up...

from one nightmare to the next.



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10:07pm - Night



I'm out for the night. I'm always out on Friday nights. Friday's we work nights. All night for men who want more than just the usual.

The door is locked. He knows I won't run. We've been doing this for three months now. I don't mind so much anymore. His name is Jack. He's a drug lord. Drug lords have many people that serve them. They have to give their underlings payment for a job well done. At first he gave me heroin. He said that it would help with the pain. I took it reluctantly. I've taken it ever since.

He said that he had business to attend to for the night. He had some fun earlier and left not too long ago. More will come in soon, I'm sure. He'll hand them the keys so they can claim their reward. I wish he would have stayed tonight. For once, I don't want to be left alone. He's never not been there when his men throw me around. It must be really important. Perhaps a trade went wrong. Drug lords are also murderous.

I'll be back in the morning when the dawn pokes through. Just another day of torture like every day before. Torture of the body and torture of the mind as we wait for Sunday to come so we can rest without fear of fault.

I wish to close my eyes right now and fall back on the soft mattress of the bed. I want to pull the comforter over my body and soak in it's warmth. If it wasn't for the horror I know will eventually come, this room would be the dreams of my heart. Spacious, comforting and warm. The smell of amber lingers in the air. A candle burning on the nightstand next to the large, opened window. I've always loved this room, when I first arrive. It's perfection is washed away when they enter.

Jack understands. It's why he always brings me to this location in the mansion. He wants me relaxed. I tell him I'm calm.

It's after 10, and I'm beginning to wonder if they're going to come at all. I know they will. I just want this peacefulness to last a little longer.