Seren's Story
folder
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
12,563
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
12,563
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Part 7
Unfortunately for me, the morning couldn’t last forever. Chase took me out to a late breakfast and dropped me off a block from my home. I walked in the front door, still happy, almost in a dreamlike state. I was finally going to leave this hell.
I was so encompassed in my happiness that I didn’t notice my father racing towards me at top speed with a cast iron skillet until it was too late. I sank to the floor and felt blood trickle down my face from just above my right ear. My head was spinning and my ears were filled with a loud roaring. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. It took all the energy I had to stay awake.
I looked at my father, completely unsure of what was happening. His face was red, sweat beading on his furious brow, and he was screaming at me. Hard. It took a minute or two before I could figure out how to talk again.
“STOP!!!” I screamed. “STOP HURTING ME!”
He quit yelling, looking thoroughly confused before the rage spiked drastically in him again. “You don’t tell me what to do!” He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the wall near the front door. I struggled to breath as he pushed me for details of where I had been all night, and what gave me the right to smile without his permission. Then he loosened his grip and a look of realization passed over his face. “You were with that boy again, weren’t you??!” He pressed for me to answer. I remained silent, trying to catch my breath. “Answer me, you little whore!”
“Yes…” I managed to answer between gasping breaths.
“You had sex with him again, didn’t you?”
“No…” I lied again. He tightened his grip around my throat. “Yes…” I finally admitted.
“I can’t believe you!” He spat and threw me on the ground. “You disrespect me by running around with that boy, and then you lie to me about it?!” there was a momentary pause. “After everything I’ve done for you… I’ve fed you, clothed you, kept a roof over your head, loved you… for the last 17 years… and this is what you do to me?!” He seethed through clenched teeth, his face inches from mine. “You’re never going to see him again, you ungrateful little whore!” He grabbed me by the back of my neck and shoved me down the basement stairs. The door closed, and he locked it with the key. “The only time you’re getting out of this house again is to go to work! You will eat down there, you will sleep down there, and you will do whatever the fuck I want you to do down there! Do You Understand Me?!”
I lay at the bottom of the stairs, my head spinning, my ears roaring, and my left arm throbbing, and I cried. I buried my face in the cold, dusty, moldy smelling shag carpet and I sobbed.
Later that afternoon I lifted my head to the sound of the door opening and closing. Best I could figure was that he had put food at the top of the stairs for me. I wasn’t hungry. I sat up and felt my body ache. The blood on the side of my head had dried and caked, pulling at my hair and skin. My left arm was swollen, I could hardly move it, and my guess was that it was broken.
I slowly and painfully stood up and moved into a dark corner. There were no window, and only the one door at the top of the stairs. My head ached and I didn’t want to think about what was happening to me. Hours passed… or maybe days passed before I heard his footsteps stomping down the dusty wood staircase. I pulled away like I frightened animal when he reached out to touch me.
The look on his face was gentle, but my fear was almost animalistic. “Baby bird…” he said softly as he brushed my stringy, dirty hair from my tear-stained face. “Oh, baby bird.” My whole body stiffened defensively as he pulled me into a hug. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He rubbed my back as he held me warmly. “I know it’s hard for you to understand why I’m doing this, but it’s all because I love you.” He kissed my forehead in a gentle, fatherly manner. He lifted my chin gently with his finger. “Can you forgive me?” He stood me up and kissed me deeply with tongue.
My entire body went limp. I couldn’t comprehend it anymore. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t be sad that that was what my life consisted of. Worst of all, I couldn’t remember the happiness I felt before he had attacked me. He carried me in his arms, laid me on the bed, and undressed me. I felt numb. I didn’t move, I didn’t fight, I didn’t say a single word, and I didn’t make a sound. I just lie there, like a rag doll, and let him do whatever he wanted.
He must have stayed quite a long time. He came in me more times than I cared to count. I just didn’t care. He flipped me over and entered me from behind, and I didn’t fight. He bent me into whatever position he wanted, he did whatever he wanted, and I didn’t make a squeak. Eventually he carried my naked body up my bedroom and covered me. He sat on the edge of my bed for several minutes stroking my hair in a loving way. My stomach turned when he entered me again. At some point, I drifted off to sleep.
The sun shone brightly through my window when I woke up. I heard the phone ring, and my father shout. “If you ever call here again, you stupid Australian son-of-a-bitch, I will have you killed!” And he slammed the phone down audibly.
My heart broke at that moment, when I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. But I’d still had that glimmer of hope of leaving with Chase at the end of the week. Now that glimmer had gone completely dark.
Life went on in the same manner for several months. I pushed my broken heart down into the undiscovered recesses of myself, and I didn’t leave the house except to go to work. I checked my mail folder one slow evening at the hospital and was surprised to find an airmail letter in it. I held it in my hands for just a moment before I truly realized what it was. A letter from Chase. I gasped and fought back tears. That little light started to shine again, ever so dimly.
I quickly stuffed the letter in my pocket and went about my duties. I took my last break and was relieved that the staff lounge was empty. I pulled the letter out of my pocket, as if it was the most fragile crystal known to man and I was afraid to break it. I must have stared at it for five minutes before I could bring myself to break the seal and read the letter inside.
“Dear Seren,
Everyone keeps telling me to give up on you, that I shouldn’t write this letter. They say that you’re too flighty, and that you used me to get something you want.
But I don’t believe them. I see something in you that they don’t, I guess.
Something that I know you can’t fake. And I can’t seem to convince myself that the last night we spent together wasn’t real… that you didn’t mean it when you said that you would marry me…
I called you before my plane left. I guess I still hoped you would come with me. I can’t help but think there’s something much deeper than you let on. Something darker than the unknown father of the baby. But maybe it’s none of my business… or maybe it is… I don’t know. It’s hard to tell with you.
It’s finally starting to warm up here down under, but I still wish you were here to keep me warm at night.
I hope you’ll write me soon, I hope you’re doing okay, and that you’re happy wherever you are in life.
With Love,
Chase”
My heart seemed to break with every word he wrote, and I read it over and over again until I had to go back to work. The next day I spent both of my breaks and my lunch writing a reply.
“Dear Chase,
I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to go home with you, but you’re right. There is a lot more to me than anybody knows. I hope you still haven’t given up on me, because you are what I need right now. You can be sure that I did not use you, and when I said “I Love You” I meant every bit of it. That night we spent together is my most cherished moment, and when I start to get down, I go back to it and I can almost smile again.
I heard my father answer the phone when you called, and I’m sorry for how he acted and what he said. I would tell you where I was, but I’m afraid that you would hate me if you knew. I would have rather been anywhere else… most of all, though, I would have rather been with you.
I miss you more than you will ever know.
I Love You,
Seren”
I posted the letter on my long walk home and hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him to reply.
My father celebrated my birthday again by bringing his friends home to rape me. I had finally learned not to fight. My life was easier that way. By Christmas, I had found out that I was pregnant again. At least I caught it early enough to have an abortion.
After the New Year, work offered me a scholarship to go to nursing school in addition to a 20/40 program. I accepted without a second’s hesitation. I wrote a letter to chase about it and he replied with congratulations, but he wanted me to stop avoiding his questions about why he couldn’t call me, and why I hadn’t left with him. “I know there’s something that you’re not telling me…” he would write in every letter.
I was so encompassed in my happiness that I didn’t notice my father racing towards me at top speed with a cast iron skillet until it was too late. I sank to the floor and felt blood trickle down my face from just above my right ear. My head was spinning and my ears were filled with a loud roaring. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. It took all the energy I had to stay awake.
I looked at my father, completely unsure of what was happening. His face was red, sweat beading on his furious brow, and he was screaming at me. Hard. It took a minute or two before I could figure out how to talk again.
“STOP!!!” I screamed. “STOP HURTING ME!”
He quit yelling, looking thoroughly confused before the rage spiked drastically in him again. “You don’t tell me what to do!” He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the wall near the front door. I struggled to breath as he pushed me for details of where I had been all night, and what gave me the right to smile without his permission. Then he loosened his grip and a look of realization passed over his face. “You were with that boy again, weren’t you??!” He pressed for me to answer. I remained silent, trying to catch my breath. “Answer me, you little whore!”
“Yes…” I managed to answer between gasping breaths.
“You had sex with him again, didn’t you?”
“No…” I lied again. He tightened his grip around my throat. “Yes…” I finally admitted.
“I can’t believe you!” He spat and threw me on the ground. “You disrespect me by running around with that boy, and then you lie to me about it?!” there was a momentary pause. “After everything I’ve done for you… I’ve fed you, clothed you, kept a roof over your head, loved you… for the last 17 years… and this is what you do to me?!” He seethed through clenched teeth, his face inches from mine. “You’re never going to see him again, you ungrateful little whore!” He grabbed me by the back of my neck and shoved me down the basement stairs. The door closed, and he locked it with the key. “The only time you’re getting out of this house again is to go to work! You will eat down there, you will sleep down there, and you will do whatever the fuck I want you to do down there! Do You Understand Me?!”
I lay at the bottom of the stairs, my head spinning, my ears roaring, and my left arm throbbing, and I cried. I buried my face in the cold, dusty, moldy smelling shag carpet and I sobbed.
Later that afternoon I lifted my head to the sound of the door opening and closing. Best I could figure was that he had put food at the top of the stairs for me. I wasn’t hungry. I sat up and felt my body ache. The blood on the side of my head had dried and caked, pulling at my hair and skin. My left arm was swollen, I could hardly move it, and my guess was that it was broken.
I slowly and painfully stood up and moved into a dark corner. There were no window, and only the one door at the top of the stairs. My head ached and I didn’t want to think about what was happening to me. Hours passed… or maybe days passed before I heard his footsteps stomping down the dusty wood staircase. I pulled away like I frightened animal when he reached out to touch me.
The look on his face was gentle, but my fear was almost animalistic. “Baby bird…” he said softly as he brushed my stringy, dirty hair from my tear-stained face. “Oh, baby bird.” My whole body stiffened defensively as he pulled me into a hug. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He rubbed my back as he held me warmly. “I know it’s hard for you to understand why I’m doing this, but it’s all because I love you.” He kissed my forehead in a gentle, fatherly manner. He lifted my chin gently with his finger. “Can you forgive me?” He stood me up and kissed me deeply with tongue.
My entire body went limp. I couldn’t comprehend it anymore. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t be sad that that was what my life consisted of. Worst of all, I couldn’t remember the happiness I felt before he had attacked me. He carried me in his arms, laid me on the bed, and undressed me. I felt numb. I didn’t move, I didn’t fight, I didn’t say a single word, and I didn’t make a sound. I just lie there, like a rag doll, and let him do whatever he wanted.
He must have stayed quite a long time. He came in me more times than I cared to count. I just didn’t care. He flipped me over and entered me from behind, and I didn’t fight. He bent me into whatever position he wanted, he did whatever he wanted, and I didn’t make a squeak. Eventually he carried my naked body up my bedroom and covered me. He sat on the edge of my bed for several minutes stroking my hair in a loving way. My stomach turned when he entered me again. At some point, I drifted off to sleep.
The sun shone brightly through my window when I woke up. I heard the phone ring, and my father shout. “If you ever call here again, you stupid Australian son-of-a-bitch, I will have you killed!” And he slammed the phone down audibly.
My heart broke at that moment, when I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. But I’d still had that glimmer of hope of leaving with Chase at the end of the week. Now that glimmer had gone completely dark.
Life went on in the same manner for several months. I pushed my broken heart down into the undiscovered recesses of myself, and I didn’t leave the house except to go to work. I checked my mail folder one slow evening at the hospital and was surprised to find an airmail letter in it. I held it in my hands for just a moment before I truly realized what it was. A letter from Chase. I gasped and fought back tears. That little light started to shine again, ever so dimly.
I quickly stuffed the letter in my pocket and went about my duties. I took my last break and was relieved that the staff lounge was empty. I pulled the letter out of my pocket, as if it was the most fragile crystal known to man and I was afraid to break it. I must have stared at it for five minutes before I could bring myself to break the seal and read the letter inside.
“Dear Seren,
Everyone keeps telling me to give up on you, that I shouldn’t write this letter. They say that you’re too flighty, and that you used me to get something you want.
But I don’t believe them. I see something in you that they don’t, I guess.
Something that I know you can’t fake. And I can’t seem to convince myself that the last night we spent together wasn’t real… that you didn’t mean it when you said that you would marry me…
I called you before my plane left. I guess I still hoped you would come with me. I can’t help but think there’s something much deeper than you let on. Something darker than the unknown father of the baby. But maybe it’s none of my business… or maybe it is… I don’t know. It’s hard to tell with you.
It’s finally starting to warm up here down under, but I still wish you were here to keep me warm at night.
I hope you’ll write me soon, I hope you’re doing okay, and that you’re happy wherever you are in life.
With Love,
Chase”
My heart seemed to break with every word he wrote, and I read it over and over again until I had to go back to work. The next day I spent both of my breaks and my lunch writing a reply.
“Dear Chase,
I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to go home with you, but you’re right. There is a lot more to me than anybody knows. I hope you still haven’t given up on me, because you are what I need right now. You can be sure that I did not use you, and when I said “I Love You” I meant every bit of it. That night we spent together is my most cherished moment, and when I start to get down, I go back to it and I can almost smile again.
I heard my father answer the phone when you called, and I’m sorry for how he acted and what he said. I would tell you where I was, but I’m afraid that you would hate me if you knew. I would have rather been anywhere else… most of all, though, I would have rather been with you.
I miss you more than you will ever know.
I Love You,
Seren”
I posted the letter on my long walk home and hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him to reply.
My father celebrated my birthday again by bringing his friends home to rape me. I had finally learned not to fight. My life was easier that way. By Christmas, I had found out that I was pregnant again. At least I caught it early enough to have an abortion.
After the New Year, work offered me a scholarship to go to nursing school in addition to a 20/40 program. I accepted without a second’s hesitation. I wrote a letter to chase about it and he replied with congratulations, but he wanted me to stop avoiding his questions about why he couldn’t call me, and why I hadn’t left with him. “I know there’s something that you’re not telling me…” he would write in every letter.