“So, when he came into my room the first night, I thought the intentions behind it were different. I thought at first, he was coming to kiss me goodnight. Or maybe I had a nightmare, and he was coming to check on me. Hell, I didn’t know. But what he did do never crossed my mind because I was only eight years old at the time and I didn’t know any better. I thought family was supposed to love and take care of you.
“But every night, after my parents fell asleep, and all the lights were turned off, and the house was so quiet you could hear every little noise its old age made, is when the monster came. Every night for over a year, he raped me.
“The first night I thought I was being punished, like I’d done something to deserve it. Like my father whooped me with the paddle, this was my uncle’s way of punishing me for dropping his beer the day before. Or maybe it was because I’d said something wrong at dinner time. I didn’t know, and I couldn’t understand. But each night after, he took a piece of me with him.
“For exactly three hundred and ninety-four nights I cried, and no one heard me. No one bothered to help me, and as each night passed, I slowly died inside until the point I was nothing. Every morning, the sunrise would remind me I was not physically dead when I wished so badly I was so I wouldn’t have to suffer through another night.”
I paused to take in a deep breath. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, and my vision blurred. I couldn’t look up. The room was silent, and my hands shook again. I dug my nails against my flesh to ease the pain in my heart and the shuddering in my breathing. The wave of the rage built back up as the sound of the gun firing echoed in my brain. The look on my uncle’s face flashed before my eyes and the tears finally fell.
“So, on the last night …” I wiped my tears with my trembling fingers “… I hid my father’s gun under my pillow. And when the door creaked open, and he leaned over me to see if my eyes were open, and he crawled in the bed beside me, and his fingers went under my nightgown to take off my panties, I pulled out the gun, and I shot him.”
I fought for air as I tried to get out the rest of the story. “I promised myself I would never cry again. I would never let anyone hurt me again. I never wanted to feel anything, ever, again. I didn’t want to feel pain, hurt, betrayal, not even love because it was all a lie. I wanted all of it gone.”
Through my strained and watery eyes, I saw Ollie. He hid his face in his hands, so I continued, “I had used up everything I had. For over a year, I used up all the tears, hope, prayers meant for a lifetime, and the moment I pulled the trigger, my mental switch flipped.
“So, no. It was my uncle I killed, not my mom, but I might as well have shot her, too. She took her own life, and the worst part is, I remembered thinking, ‘Good, you deserve it.’”
I shook my head as the truth came from my lips and tears soaked my cheeks. “Why couldn’t she see what he was doing to me? Why hadn’t she heard my crying out for her at night? Why didn’t anyone care enough to save me? Most of all, why was it her who got the easy way out? Why had death chosen her when I’m the one who deserved it? Every night for over a year, I prayed his rape would somehow kill me, yet she was the one who was dead, and I stood over her body, not sad, but fucking jealous.”
Ollie looked up from his hands with bloodshot eyes, and no one else was in the room anymore. No one bothered to interrupt me when I so badly needed someone to stop me from talking. My mouth kept going. “Trapped in my own head for almost ten years, and on the outside, sure, I looked fine, but my subconscious was always there, screaming to come out and deal with this, and I kept pushing her down. And still, no one heard me.
“Ten years ago, my uncle stole everything from me. He stole my innocence, my childhood, my dreams, my ability to love, to be happy, my mother, or maybe this is all my fault because I wasn’t strong enough. If I were strong enough, I could have fought him off. I could have had the courage to fight back. This was all my fault …”
I broke piece by piece in front of everyone. Every thought exited my mouth, and no one had the nerve to shut me up. “My dad won’t even look me in the eyes! He sees the same person I see when I look in the mirror: a waste. I’m the monster, and I was so afraid to tell you.” I was shouting to Ollie now, and he bent over with his head in his hands as his shoulders shook. “I was so scared once you knew the truth, that I killed someone … that I was capable of ending someone else’s life and spent the rest of mine doing the only thing I was meant to do, which is to fuck, you would never look at me the same.
“Because my uncle screwed me in every way for over a year, then I killed him. His life flashed before my eyes, and I couldn’t even feel bad about it. I’m the monster, Ollie!” As my testimony finally left me, I stood from the piano bench as my legs wobbled beneath me. “I don’t even deserve to be looked at by you.” I turned to Arty, who sat stunned. “Is this what you wanted, Arty? Does my story get you off?”
Arty stammered in shock at my long-winded confession. “Mia, that’s not what this is …”
My eyes darted around, and the entire circle couldn’t even look at me as they all turned their heads away. Then my eyes fell on Ollie. He pulled the neckline of his shirt over his eyes, still unable to see me.
“Just forget it,” I shouted, and walked through the circle and out of the room.
My mind raced as my feet moved involuntarily in front of me. I found my way back to my dorm, and as soon as my door closed, I fell against my padded wall and sunk into a fetal position on the floor. I couldn’t catch my breath as my chest ached for air. With no tears left to cry, my eyes burned for relief.
The door to my room swung open, and I looked up to see Ollie. He collapsed on his knees before me. “Mia … I’m so sorry,” he cried. His chin trembled as he tried to hold it together. “I’m trying, I really am. I’m trying to be strong for you.” I pulled his sweatshirt I was wearing over my head as I fought for air. My once dry and burning eyes found more tears as my nose ran into his hoodie. Hyperventilating, I pushed his hands away
“Go … go away. You don’t have to do this!” I choked out.
Ollie fought against me, and I soon surrendered as he pulled me close to his chest. My entire body went weak in his arms, and eventually, my breathing returned to normal as the rest of my tears drained. It felt like an hour had passed, but it could have easily been minutes in his arms.
“Look at me,” Ollie insisted. “Look into my eyes and tell me I don’t see you differently, because if you say otherwise, you’re wrong.”
His eyes—broken, green, and beautiful as ever—stared back at me as the rest of his face proved this was affecting him just as much as it had affected me. He held my wet face and continued, “I’ll never look at you differently, Mia. I love all of you. Fuck. If you didn’t kill that bastard, I would be swimming across the Atlantic right now to do it myself. You’re not a monster. Do you hear me?”