Pure Heroin : The Untold Truth

VI

"Wake me up when this nightmare is over," one of the most common phrases we use all around the world.

But little do we know, we are awake.

Our brain is functioning at a high compacity, it's just that our bodies stay in paralysis.

Think about the irony. We have to face our fears. We can't run from them.

Cliché. I know. But really think about it. We control our every movement, our every thought, what we say with our mind. I mean, it even digs deep into our temporal lobe, and creates remarkable replications of reality.

But it's all involuntary. We have no control over waking up, what we dream, how we say it or how we do it, once we are asleep.

So, I'm sure you're asking how is that ironic.

Here it is, when your "living a nightmare", face it, you're screwed.

Two days after I turned 13, I remember waking up to severe stomach pains.

Not like a bowel movement.

Not like I was gunna vomit.

More like twinges. Aches that would come and go. Starting in my back and making it's way towards my pelvis. I could feel the slight pull and shortly after I would duffel over my legs as I rocked myself until it passed.

A wetness saturated my pajama bottoms, with no warning.

Curiously I looked, and it was blood.

"How could this be?"

Immediately, my breathing gets heavy, and my speech is hindered.

My mind racing, as I shoved my face into my pillow and let out a scream.

"I hate him, I have to kill him before he kills me." I mumbled before putting my face back in the pillow, to let out another bellow.

I was disgusted with myself, as my panties pooled with blood,

How was I going to tell my mom, her boyfriend raped me, and now I'm bleeding to death?

He threatened to kill me if I ever mentioned his name.

Little did he know I wanted to die.

He would sneak in my room and tell me everything was okay. He would start by unzipping his pants, then leaning towards me to unzip mine. He played on the fact I didn't have a dad. Never had one. He would tell me, "all daddy's do this, its okay."

I wanted to die.

He would demand I tell him I enjoyed it. Then tell me "I'll be okay."

I wanted to die.

Then he would threaten to kill me.

But, I wanted to die.

Then he would threaten to kill my mom.

She was worth saving.

For whatever odd reason, I saved her every time. Even though, she didn't deserve to be alive.

"Mom," I stood there, in the hallway, my chin quivered. "I have something to tell you."

"What now, Kate?" She sounded agitated.  

"Mom.." I couldn't get the words out. She would hate me, if she knew he chose me most nights.

"Oh, dear God, Kate. What do you have all over you?"

"Blood. I think it's from.." I said before she cut me off.

"Oh, what the hell Kate. Go get a bath. You got your period. Stop crying, you'll be fine."