A slick, black ink smothered everything. The moonlight shrouded the world in ominous shadows like an overexposed negative. There were no hopeful, vibrant colors, just shades of black and gray, that fit my mood perfectly. Allowing the velvety dead of night to envelope and obscure me from everyone’s prying eyes, I was finally alone with my thoughts.
Frigid that night, I enjoyed the tingly sensation of the beginnings of frostbite; it reminded me that, despite all I had endured, I was still amongst the living. Before me, I saw nothing but my breath dancing in a shapeless, ghostly mist. It dispersed quickly, leaving me solitary once again. It was the kind of evening where one could stray into the forest and never be heard from again. No one would miss me if I slipped away into the icy nothingness. Finishing my third drink, I effortlessly poured another; then, smiling at the idea of finally out-running my demons, I contemplated if I had the courage to just shut up and do it.
On the fringe of the pitch black woods that surrounded the desolate junkyard, I anonymously sat, cloistered from my peers. Trapped, my legs were like roots buried deep in the ground. Eventually I’d have to return to the barren wasteland that had become my teenage existence, but- for now- I relished the quiet calm before the next approaching storm’s arrival.
Closing my eyes, I took a slug of the stiff rum punch clasped in my trembling hand. When I threw my head back to swallow, I lost my balance, clumsily tumbling off the fallen log where I’d been perched all night. Giggling like a Japanese-game-show contestant who’d just won a prize, I climbed slightly lightheaded and disoriented back up on the damp, rough bark.
Staying focused was very important, as, passing out and freezing to death was not part of the plan. I didn’t aspire to die like that. Or did I? Succumbing to the cold might have been the answer to my prayers. Hypothermia would be an uncomplicated, peaceful escape and completely out-of-my-hands.
As I swallowed another sip, the acrid fluid burned like hell. Like an old friend that had come to care for me, the fire traveled all the way to the pit of my stomach before it was extinguished. I knew the burn well. It felt good, too good. Painstakingly, I let my mind wander while enduring the countless minutes before the imminent sedation of my disheartened spirit.
There was another late-winter storm coming; I could feel in the air that it would be the last before spring’s rebirth. Soon, the clearing would be blanketed in pure white snow; once again, it would be as clean and untainted as I had been not-so-long ago. Silently, I questioned how long it had been since that fateful night. I honestly didn’t want to think about any of that. I never wished to remember that night again as long as I lived, but that was impossible. Obviously, it hadn’t been long enough to forget his disgusting hands all over me; I could still feel their grabbing. The vulgar event would be etched into my memory for all of eternity. He had desecrated my soul with his immoral act. I would never be the same. That innocent girl was dead, I was dead.
The woods began to spin around me, not fast like a merry-go-round but slowly, like a panning movie camera, showing me what I had missed while I fantasized about getting lost. Tall, ancient, leafless trees towered above me illuminated by only the moon’s muted, silver beams of light. Appearing forbidding and unearthly, the crooked branches seemed to be pointing wretched, long, arthritic fingers at me, passing judgment and condemning me for my sins. A chill migrated down my spine as fear engulfed me.
Looking towards the small group of my peers that had assembled near the fire’s warmth and glow I hugged myself to fight the goose bumps that instantly covered my exposed flesh. Everyone knew monsters couldn’t hide out in the open because the light wards off evil. Disastrously, I had already invited the monster into the sanctity of my soul. After deliberating the possibility of joining them, I instead settled for voluntary exile.
Thankfully, the alcohol’s gratifying anesthesia-like qualities had begun surging through my bloodstream. Courageously, I had waited for the numbness to arrive. Not disappointed, I welcomed it with open arms. Booze was the one thing I could count on, because it never let me down. I had always found solace in being intoxicated, like a lover’s heart-warming embrace, it was a security blanket that kept me safe and sheltered from the outside world’s harsh realities. Self preservation was tangled up in the drunken haze that I desperately thirsted for every minute of every day. It had become a sacred haven where I didn’t have to constantly look over my shoulder for him.
Sitting stoically, I reflected on the last few months and on how much I’d depended on alcohol to eradicate the growing antagonisms in my life. I never considered how horrible my hangover would be in the morning; as, the brief moments free-of-torment were always worth the throbbing headache. When I was wasted, I could almost forget the unforgettable, even if just for an hour or two. I could almost erase the memory of what his vile eyes had looked like that disgraceful future altering night.
Arguing with myself about the reasons behind my drinking, I foolishly rationalized that I didn’t have any other choice if I were to remain among the living. Drunk, I had the tenacity to handle anything; without inebriation, I would surely lose my mind. Unfortunately, I’d have to come up with a new coping mechanism. Undoubtedly, people would notice if I were trashed all the time. Already pushing it, I couldn’t allow my parents to know about my flourishing addiction; as, they would demand I quit. My love affair with the bottle was just another skeleton I’d have to keep locked up. My closet was beginning to overflow with them like an earthen levee after a category five hurricane.
With my thriving intoxication, my fears sluggishly faded away and melted into the void of space. Hastily, I became defiant, selfishly not giving a shit what other people thought. Not another living soul knew what had happened that fucked up night in my not-so-distant past. No one knew what I had dealt with every day because of what he did to me- what I let him do to me. I would take the truth to my grave. It was a story I dared not share, a malignant tumor of knowledge that slowly killed me. There was no cure for my agony, just temporary remedies that dulled the pain.
Discovering what I’d been searching for at the bottom of a bottle, I was okay; this was my being okay. When the alcohol penetrated the deep recesses of my mind, I didn’t feel like a dirty whore anymore. It was nice to drop my guard and be able to breathe deeply without flashes of pain bombarding me like rapid gunfire. Freed from the guilt and shame I’d been carrying with me for weeks, I was just shy of delirious. Giddy and light all of a sudden- for a change, I wasn’t crying. I couldn’t shed another tear because there weren’t any left. My soul had become a dusty, infertile desert.
Startled by voices beckoning me to go to them, I believed people were just being polite. If they were really worried about me, they could have found me. Waiting like a child in an orphanage on Christmas Eve, I wasn’t surprised when no one came bearing love’s gifts. The echoes drifted away on the whispering wind like fog over the cold ocean, and the night’s eerie silence returned. All I heard was the sound of my heartbeat, like a clock keeping time, even though time had stopped for me weeks ago.
Reasoning if I were capable of moving on, I easily made out the faces of people I knew in the distance. In the soft flicker of the fire, I saw that they were laughing and enjoying life. For a brief, fleeting second, I yearned to be with them. Held captive by my thoughts, fears and insecurities, I was a shadow of my former self. A sinister changeling that was evolving into something grotesque, I didn’t want them to see me like that. They couldn’t ever know the unspeakable truth. In a few minutes, I’d rejoin them and play the part of the party girl. It was becoming second-nature.
For a fleeting moment, I couldn’t remember why I was so damn depressed. Then it all rushed back to me and assaulted my repose. He was why I was afflicted. It all went back to that stupid night; I had made a mistake so epic that I would never out-live it, escape it, or forget it. There wasn’t enough booze in the world to wash my slate clean. The horrific event was still so vivid. When I closed my eyes, I could smell and taste him on my lips. I felt him inside me.
My mind was still too clear. Leaning down, I picked up the bottle I’d hidden from my friends. Carelessly, I sloshed the dark rum into my plastic cup, gulping it down. On the edge of my peripheral vision, I focused only on the dancing orange flames and the brilliant sparks floating up into the heavens. Dreaming of being one of those embers, rising up above everything, I privately feared my dejected soul would never float up. In my heart, I speculated it would sink into the depths of hell and burn for eternity.
In my state of semi-consciousness, I sensed it was getting late. Remembering what waited for me at home, I didn’t want the night to end. Though nice while it lasted, it always came to an abrupt screeching halt once I was alone in my room. The emptiness always found me, like a ruthless bounty hunter, in the wee hours of the morning, proving my happiness was all a cruel illusion. Seeing my forsaken eyes staring back at me in the bathroom mirror as I brushed my teeth clearly showed what lay buried in the depths of my psyche. Pitifully, I was not fucking okay, not in any sense of the word. I would never be okay again. At only seventeen years old, I wished I were dead, but I didn’t have the guts to end it.
Glancing towards Heaven, I didn’t waste my time praying, but I did catch a glimpse of the stars for the first time. How had I missed them? The night sky was hauntingly beautiful and immense. There were millions of twinkling specks, like diamonds haphazardly cast across the velvet ebony of space by some jilted immortal Greek God who had fallen for a human. Like one of those distant stars way off in the corner of a never ending universe, I wasn’t the brightest one, not by a long shot. I possessed just enough sparkle to catch someone’s eye if they searched really hard but, most people only saw what they desired to see or what I dared to show them. Masterfully, I could be whatever or whoever they wanted me to be if I put my mind to it.
No one was eager to release my tarnished soul; it was caged up inside an elegant prison. Wait, that wasn’t entirely true; there was a gorgeous guy who had been watching me since he drove up in a bright shiny new pickup. I observed him on the other side of the blazing inferno where he stood alone like a sentinel. Smirking suggestively in my direction, he winked. Before looking away, I saw the lustful look in his eyes; I had seen that needful look before. In my heart, I knew that he just wanted to use my body. The men I met never cared about what lay beneath my sensual exterior.
Considering taking a chance and going over to him, I imagined he embodied the power to take my mind off my heartache. Not wanting to think anymore; I desired someone to think for me. Unable to be alone anymore, the incessant suffering was tediously consuming me. I desperately craved love and protection from the hungry, demonic wolves that had been snapping at my heels.
The stranger would obviously expect something in return for his guardianship. Men always did. I was unsure of what I had left to offer. The last thing of any value that I had owned was my virginity, and that was long gone. Not caring anymore, I‘d give him whatever he asked of me, no matter how great the risk.
At that instant, I would have sold my soul to Satan for a little salvation. The guy’s commanding, piercing eyes looked as though he could have been Lucifer himself incarnate. Unwilling to resist the temptation another second, I chose to go to him. On unsteady legs I seductively closed the distance between us. He watched, mesmerized by me, his attention never wavering.
God had given me one gift and I was forced to use it to get what I required. The powerful pull of his stare and his scintillating baby blues hypnotized me, luring me towards a new destiny. The closer I got, the more he smiled. Returning the gesture, I felt a flutter in the depths of my womanhood, catching me off guard. Thinking that part of me had been snuffed out forever, I reminded myself that the flesh was weak and the very thing that got me into the horrendous mess from which I currently tried to find refuge from.
There was no more time to think as he put his strong hand out, and I shyly reached for it without hesitation. He held my cold quivering fingers in his, introducing himself. Adam asked if I wanted to go sit in his truck, and I shook my head in agreement. Like a gallant knight in shining armor, he put his arm around my shoulders to shelter me from the cold. Childishly, I let him…
