Shockwave

[Chapter One]

Waking up alone in a strange room, I couldn’t remember anything except darkness, hoping and praying for my pain and suffering to just end. But you can’t always get what you want.

I sat up looking around the room. Not five foot from my bed there was another. I stared at the man lying on the bed, seemingly unconscious. When a nurse walked in.

“What’s he in for?” I asked.

“Drug overdose. We are keeping him sedated as much as we can. Now onto the reason I’ve come, do you remember how you got here, more importantly what got you here?” She asked. Nodding my answer.

“You’re in here because you tried to commit suicide. And it’s not the first attempt according to the scars on your wrists, why?”

I shook. Keeping my head in down in shame. “I constantly have these nightmares, I’m back in that house. I’m being raped by my father, sometimes my father’s friends, even strangers. I gave up. I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t live like that. I don’t want to live, why couldn’t you just let me go? Just let me die.” I cried out. She looked shocked, speechless even.

“Sedate me. I don’t want to be awake. I can’t be awake. Because the second I fall asleep on my own, I’m thrown back into that house. The dark basement, where I’m tied to the mattress on the floor, stripped of my clothing, and taken over and over and over again. Sedate me please, I beg you” I begging. So she did, and minutes later my eyes begin to close. Bliss. It was peaceful silence.

Cason Jones

“Sedate me. I don’t want to be awake. I can’t be awake. Because the second I fall asleep on my own, I’m thrown back into that house. The dark basement, where I’m tied to the mattress on the floor, stripped of my clothing, and taken over and over and over again. Sedate me please, I beg you” I heard a soft voice plea. Then silence. “It will get better” Nancy Walker, the nurse, whispered as she kissed the girl’s forehead.

“What’s she in for?” I asked. Nancy looked over at me smiling, as she walked over. She took my hand in hers. “Severe depression. Attempted suicide. She’s been raped every day, since she turned 13. By her father, his friends, strangers even. Beaten to near death on multiple occasions. She didn’t want to live any long. In fact I don’t blame her really. She gave up. “ Nancy said as she sadly looked over to the girl unconscious in the bed next to me. “How old is she?” I asked. “19 years old” she answered.

“You know I have to sedate you now” she said. Looking at me.

“It’s out of my system Nancy. I can no longer feel the high. Please don’t “ I said. She looked conflicted. Before finally she gave in. “You better not try anything mister!” She pointed at me, raising one eyebrow. Before she left.

I looked over at the only other bed in the room. She laid there, so still. I slowly got out of bed. Took a minute for my legs to finally work again after 3 days of constantly being sedated. I walked over looking down at the sleeping girl.

I looked over my shoulder at the window. Thinking to myself, this must look weird for those looking in from the outside. Me standing over her still frame. I lifted my hand, slowly bringing it to her face. Where I proceeded to brush the strands of hair from her face. It was then I got a real look at her. I gasped. She was beautiful! Worst of all she looked so innocent! I couldn’t, for the life of me, imagine what I know really happened that got her in this position, begging to be sedated. To keep the nightmares away.

How does a father do that to his only daughter? And all this because her mother passed? Absolutely no excuse. What the fuck has this world come to where fathers are raping their daughters? I don’t know how long I stood there, before sitting, just staring. I just don’t understand.

“My step dad” her voice rang out through the hospital room. I jumped before, I looked down seeing her open her eyes.

“My birth father dumped my mother the second he found out she was pregnant. My step dad has been in the picture since I was 2. He was never like this you know. He cared, raised me, loved me. That all changed when my mother passed. He was the man, the one who raised me and ruined me. Ironic huh. The man I used to look up to and adore, broke me. Ruined me. I’ll never be the same again. “ she said.

“How did you last this long?” I asked quietly out of curiosity.

She sat up wincing as she did. She turned, to look out at the dark sky from the window across for her bed. She scoffed. “I didn’t last long at all. I gave up long before. I lost the fight after 3 weeks. I couldn’t protect myself, hell, at thirteen I didn’t think I needed to. At least not against him, he was my father, the man that raised me.” She said

“Each time I tried to escape the hell, I’d get caught. He’d take me down his room in the basement. There, he’d spray me with.. with this hose that he dragged in through a window. He’d spray me until my lips were almost blue and my teeth were chattering. He would then proceed to strip me of everything. He’s chain me, to the old mattress on the floor, where he would rape me for hours on end. When he finished, he left to the bar, where he’d drink for hours only to come back. It was that time that he was gone I got a few minutes of piece. He’s come back hours later drunk, only he wasn’t alone. I was 14, the first time he walked downstairs with 4 of his friends. The took turns. They didn’t care about the tears, or the blood, even the bruises, only cared that they had something to get their dick wet.” She said.

I gulped. “You don’t have to-” I was cut off.

“I need to get this out” she said softly. I nodded. Letting her continue as tears fell softly down her porcelain cheeks.

“2 years ago, I thought things were finally looking up. There was a week where I wasn’t touched, beaten, or raped. I got pregnant. There would be someone who’d always love me, no matter what. I didn’t know until I began to show. “ she said. She motioned me over. So I sat there on the bed next to her. She lifted her gown I immediately looked away.

“This is what he did when he found out.” She said. I looked over seeing the scars everywhere.

“He beat me, kicked me, stabbed me, doing everything in his power to take the one unconditional love I’d get. My baby. I didn’t think or care who’s it was just that I wouldn’t be alone anymore. I had a escape plan that night. Only it didn’t go to plan obviously. These scars are all from that night. The night I lost my baby. My father ripped that baby away from me. “ she said. More tears running down her red cheeks, eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying.

I went to wipe the tears she flinched. Immediately apologizing pulling my hand back. I looked down at the blankets, before looking up again.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Dead. I killed him” she said. I held in my gasped and just looked shocked. “It got too much for me. I didn’t something I should’ve a long damn time ago. I had the plan to escape. I had a pin I was able to get off one of the drunk men, which would help me pick the locks on the chains. I had a knife just in case. I didn’t even think about, what if he leaves the bar early and comes home, that was my mistake.” She said pausing. Taking a deep breath before continuing.

“When he seen me standing there in the living room, with a bag. He went ballistic, throwing things. Kicking me, even stabbed me in the shoulder with his broken beer bottle. He slammed me to the ground, my head bounces off the floor hard. He put his hands around my neck began strangling me. I was just able to get the knife in my hand. I stabbed him. Took him off guard enough to let go. I kept stabbing him screaming and crying each and every time he moved. Until eventually he stopped moving. I called the police. I didn’t care in that moment if I went to jail or not. I was finally free of him. But that wasn’t enough he already did his damage on me. I tried so many times to end it all. The last attempt the hospital by law was able to commit me into this rehab center. “ she said.

“What’s your story?” She asked.

I shrugged. “Don’t have one” I said.

“Everyone’s got a story.” She said.

Sighing. I began.

“Since I was ten, I knew that I was the black sheep in the family. I came from a wealthy family, who only cared about their image and reputation in the eyes of society. They didn’t care that I was working myself into the ground. Between the alcohol, drugs and the women, I gave up. I made enough money so I sat back not having a care. As my brother became the new CEO of my company. The company I built from the ground up in a way to please my family, maybe finally make them proud of me. My family didn’t care about me. Never did. It was always my younger siblings. Everything about them was perfect. I got into drugs at 17, last month was the worst month of my life. I was disowned by my family. So I wanted the high I knew the drugs could give me. I built up the tolerance for the drugs I regularly used. I took too much, I overdosed. It was the moments of silence before blackness, I felt at peace, I never wanted that time to end. “ I said.

I could see her struggling to keep her eyes open.

“I’m here nightmares won’t come” I said.

She smiled, well a hint of a smile. Before her eyes closed. I moved the chair close to her bed. She grabbed my hand, immediately turning on her side. I seen her wince before pulling my hand to her chest, where she fell asleep.

“Maybe just maybe she’ll help you as you help her” Nancy said.

I turned to look at her standing in the doorway. She smiled.

“Oh uh it’s not what you think” I said.

“You don’t know what I think boy” she said. Checking something before heading to the door again.

“Goodnight Cason “ she called over the shoulder as she left.

Leaving me alone in silence, staring at the sleeping beauty, who is holding my hand captive against her chest.