Sins and Reborns

Chapter twenty

GRACE

Why do we let the innocent be harmed? Why don't we stop the horrors when we spot them? There must be some horrid psychology behind that, but still: why...

My hands moved over my face, tendons straining and the bruises tensing. The red goo that hurled out of the marks was repulsive. Whenever my back arched, the pain worsened, so I had to stop doing that. But how could I stop arching it when whenever the sharpness hit, it would arch back up? It was almost inevitable.

This time it hurt worse than all the other times.

Now, this had been a procedure since I turned about eleven. The weekly, Sunday procedure that stripped me of my identity and rights.

Yes, it was a Wednesday early morning, but that hadn't mattered to them. They saw how tousled I looked like, and how I reeked of filthy men (at least to them). This wouldn't have hurt as bad if it was Sunday, but today they were rougher for explained reasons.

The speculum hadn't been washed this morning, as wasn't the endoscope. There was no lubricant even used. I bit my lip to get through the pain. My hands were useless as they lay strapped to the table; my body lay on it in a spread-eagle way. The tool was stretched open too wide that it hurt.

"How many centimetres?"

"Three."

"Is there any... evidence?" the last word was so hushed. "I swear, Ray, what if there's –"

"Don't use that word," he barked back. "If there is, then our Grace knows what will be."

If my breathing had been even before, it surely wasn't anymore. My fear was outstretched and chaotic. The fear of my secrets being unravelled. But they had already gotten the hint from the stretch, the difference in the size from last week.

I forced myself to calm down to not have a panic attack that would disrupt the world. Right this minute, I wanted him to be there. I wanted him to make the fear and pain go away.

But he's the reason why you're in this position, to begin with, my subconscious cut in.

No no no. The twistedness in my ritualistic and praying family wasn't his fault. He had his faults, but his faults stopped there. They could never exceed the problems in this very basement.

If his faults were worse, then I might have blamed him. But because of his lack of knowledge about my home life, then how could I?

Mother was tapping her foot now. She was pacing the room. But I still spotted the hatred and disgust in her eyes.

I shut down then. I thought of him and our dance. He had twirled me like I was a star. He had held me like I was meant to be in this world. He had kissed me like he never wanted to lose me. And he had let me go like he never wanted to do that again.

Why did you have to leave, Connor?

"I cannot find any. Although this doesn't mean she didn't betray us, herself or God." Whenever they mentioned Him, it made me hurt. They were using God to better themselves, to justify their actions.

But I knew that if God was real, then He would never justify with them. He would banish them and make them plead for forgiveness.

But as the world is too unfair, then God cannot step in and magically make everything all right. If He could, then the world would be at peace, and no one would shed tears.

"Then how come she's so swollen? Huh, Ray? How does that make any –"

Smack! Mother cupped her cheek.