Remission [H.S. MATURE AU]

11.

SCARLETT

Pretending to be asleep hadn't worked in the past but I'm not giving in just yet. Keeping my eyes closed is easier than facing the reality in front of my eyes. We all sometimes close our eyes hoping that whatever it is that we dislike so much will disappear on its own, but he never does.

I can hear his steps around the room and then the same song starts playing. The same words repeating over and over again and I have to brace myself, because I know what it's about to happen.

I will follow him wherever he may go
There isn't an ocean too deep
A mountain so high it can keep me away

I try to focus on the words of the song, trying to block out my fear of whatever he's about to do. I feel weak and hungry, I'm not sure I can take more of it.

I must follow him, ever since he touched my hand I knew
That near him I always must be
And nothing can keep him from me
He is my destiny

The female voice sings right after. It keeps me distracted for a few seconds, until the pungent smell of smoke slowly filling up the room hits my nostrils and the memory, the pain of last time immediately comes back to haunt me.

"I'm very hungry!" I say, hoping to distract him. To change his mind. I don't know how long it has been since the last time I've eaten a real meal. He feeds me through IV, but he hasn't changed the empty bag yet. He doesn't answer me, or move at all, so I decide to open my eyes. "Please... I need to eat something." I gulp, looking at him in front of me, with his cigarette between his fingers. He just looks at me, motionless. Only after a few seconds he walks toward me and raises his hand to my face. It's a slow movement, he just caresses my face and I find myself shivering, feeling completely disgusted even of his most harmless touch.

I've made him understand how much I despise it in the past, I've made it very clear. When I spat at him he hit me so many times I couldn't open my left eye for a whole week. When I kicked him on his knee, while he was closing again the chain around my ankles, he almost broke my ankle. Now I've just gave up.

"Please, don't..." I beg him, knowing perfectly what it's about to come. He moves his free hand from my face to my wrist and he holds it tight, exposing the inside of it. I try to fight him, but his strength, compared to my weakness, and the chain around it makes it very hard for me. I just shut my eyes, knowing that nothing I can say is going to stop what is about to happen. After a few seconds I feel the burning tip of the cigarette colliding with the skin of my wrist and my screams fill up the room.

I've learned to tolerate this kind of pain but I can't tell him that because if I don't scream he'll pass to the cattle prod and everything is better than the cattle prod. I've tried to fight him, avoiding to give him the satisfaction of seeing him in pain because my father has always told me that it tires a sadist, but he just goes on and on until he finds whatever is going to rip a scream off of me. So, now, I just give him what he wants. It doesn't mean it's any less painful, it still leaves a scar on my body and a even more permanent one in my mind.

"Honey, can you hear me?" My father's voice brings me back to reality. I'm not sure I can hear him, or anyone else around me right now. For a solid minute it seemed to be down there once again, like I had never truly escaped. It still feels so if I close my eyes. I just weakly nod my head at him.

"He used to play this song very often." I answer the previous question he had asked. "I remembered it only now, I'm sorry..." I whisper, rubbing my heavy eyes. I feel tired, but I'm not sure I want to close my eyes.