Death

by C. M. Radcliff

  I didn’t see the dried cum until I sat up farther and had to peel my cock from my stomach. There was a dried, semi-sticky coating my skin and it was white like the globs of cum stuck in my pubes.

  What the fuck?

  My mind was a mess and my brain fucking hurt. I couldn’t come up with any answers, any explanations. None of it made sense.

  I stood up, pulling my pants back up and stumbled to the bathroom on legs that felt like wet noodles. I used the wall to brace myself, as I pulled my dick back out and pissed.

  It wasn’t until afterward that I had a flashback. I pulled my zipper up and froze as the noise stung my ears.

  “Mama’s gonna take care of you now.”

  The color drained from my face as the entire room shifted, swaying from side to side. The acid burned my chest and my throat as I bent over and hung onto the toilet bowl as my body purged all of the toxins inside.

  I couldn’t purge the toxins within my mind. They were written in stone, cemented to me forever.

  A hard kick in my side brought me back as I lifted my head from the side of the toilet bowl. I must have passed out from exhaustion.

  “Get up, I gotta fuckin’ piss,” my father barked and pushed me onto my side with the toe of his boot. I toppled over easily before sitting back up and eased myself onto my feet. I stared at the back of his head and waited for him to say something.

  He had to know.

  He had to know.

  “The fuck you waitin’ for in here?” he demanded, barely looking over his shoulder. I quickly scurried out of the bathroom without another word to him.

  My mouth was so dry, I could barely move my tongue and my throat was on fire. I heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, so I knew there was no going in there for a drink. It was silent downstairs so I headed down to the kitchen.

  I reached the bottom of the steps, keeping my eyes on the floor and sped into the kitchen. I quickly grabbed a glass and filled it up with water and chugged it a few times.

  “Is that what you were doin’ with my vodka last night?”

  I hadn’t heard her when she walked up and I choked on a mouthful of water at the sound of her voice. The room did a three-sixty as my eyes flew over to the doorway where she was leaning against the door jam in her underwear and a tiny tank top.

  My throat was thick with disgust as I swallowed a mouthful of vomit. She smirked at me as she watched me through narrowed eyes.

  “What did you give me?” I asked her quietly, making sure my father wouldn’t hear me.

  She stuck out a long bony finger and waved it in my direction before turning it toward herself and motioning for me to come to her.

  “Come give your mama a kiss first,” she commanded, her harsh voice as sweet and fake as artificial honey.

  I shook my head, backing up until I was against the fridge. She followed after me and her dead eyes bored holes in mine. She pinned me up against the fridge, standing on her tiptoes.

  We both knew I couldn’t touch her. She’d cry wolf and I’d get my ass beat.

  “You open your fuckin’ mouth to anyone, you got another thing comin’,” she breathed in my ear. “I already got your cum inside me, all I need is a rape kit and your ass is fuckin’ done.”

  My body stilled and I felt the vomit come rushing up my throat.

  “Aww, you forgot,” she cooed and nuzzled my neck. “That’s okay, honey.”

  The urge to shove her off of me and run was strong. I wanted to rip off every inch of my skin. I wanted to be anywhere but there, with her.

  Her tongue darted out as she slid it up the side of my neck to my ear, leaving a trail of her saliva. “You’ll remember how much you liked that pussy when Mama shows you how to fuck again.”

  I stopped breathing. I couldn’t breathe. She sucked all of the oxygen out of the room with her tainted words.

  “Candy!” My father’s voice boomed from upstairs, causing her to still against me. “Get the fuck up here and make me come.”

  My mother leaned up and planted a wet kiss on the side of my cheek. “I’ll take care of you later,” she whispered as she fell onto flat feet and winked.

  She quickly left the room and ran upstairs to my father. My body lurched forward, and I made it to the sink just in time for all of the water and stomach acid to come rushing up.

  That was the first time I ever felt anything close to a mother’s love.

  chapter fifteen

  PRESENT

  The silence is heavy as it surrounds us, filling the room. Staring down at the cool metal table, I count the scratches etched into the smooth metallic surface.

  Avoiding Christine’s gaze, my eyes don’t stray from the scratches as I hear her pen hit the notepad.

  The blinking red light on the tape recorder mocks me from the corner of my eye. My secrets have been exposed, with my scars on full display. I clench my jaw, restraining myself from smashing the recorder into broken shards of plastic.

  I’m ashamed and embarrassed. My voice betrayed me and regret fills me to the brim.

  Christine.

  Christine… she’s who I should be pissed off at.

  She’s a master at what she does and how she does it. With her sweet voice and soft eyes, she reaches deep inside and wraps her delicate hands around your deepest, darkest secrets and rips them from you.

  I trusted her enough to tell her and let her record it. I didn’t worry about what the world would think of this.

  No one will believe me anyway.

  “Hey,” Christine says gently, reaching her hand out to mine. “Curtis?”

  Clenching my jaw, I sit back, my eyes meeting hers in a hard stare and I slide my hand out from underneath hers. A wave of confusion and hurt passes through her eyes, but she recovers quickly.

  “You gettin’ the juicy details you wanted?” I sneer, leaning back in my chair. “You wanted my story, right?”

  She pauses before nodding thoughtfully. “I did ask for that, but I want you to know that if there is anything you want me to leave out, I can and I will.”

  I cut my eyes to her.

  I don’t trust this bitch.

  “Why should I believe you?” I question her. “You’re a reporter, exploiting people is what you assholes do.”

  She rolls her eyes, showing a new side of herself. The soft-spoken innocent Christine is long gone.

  “Believe what you want.” She shrugs and folds her arms in front of her. “Why do you care anyway? About being exploited.”

  “Excuse me?” I snarl, my voice harsh, but she pays me no mind.

  She shakes her head lightly. “You care about what people think of you. Why?”

  Letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, it’s my moment of truth. She’s asking a question that no one once bothered to ask. And it’s one that I never wanted to answer.

  I’m an inmate on death row. You don’t wind up here, in line for the needle, by stealing some bubble gum from the gas station.

  One thing I’ve learned in prison are vulnerabilities and weaknesses are a hazard. You either get rid of them altogether or you lock them away, deep inside and throw away the key.

  Christine went digging and found it.

  “I shouldn’t care what people think,” I admit to the two of us. “I know I shouldn’t, not after the things that I’ve done and for the fact that I’ll never see the outside world again. Look at you,” I say, gesturing toward her appearance. “Tell me you weren’t bullied in school by the popular kids.”

  “This isn’t my interview, Curtis,” she reminds me, pursing her lips.

  “You would think someone would get used to the countless names they were called all throughout their life, but sometimes they don’t. I’ve racked up quite the list, but Mommy Fucker isn’t one I’m ready to add to that list.”

  She takes a deep breath and nods. “I understand that, I really do, but you did not do that. She took advantage of you, Curtis. She raped you.”

  I chuckle lightly to
myself, shaking my head in disbelief. “You really expect society to believe that? When do you ever read or hear about women being the sexual predators?”

  “Well,” she starts and wrings her hands together. “Statistically, men are more commonly the perpetrator in those situations.”

  “But, statistically, it does still happen,” I counter.

  “Unfortunately, it does,” she nods. Taking a deep breath, she folds her hands together and rests them on the table in front of her. “Did you tell anyone?” she asks quietly.

  Slowly nodding, I take a deep breath. “I told my grandma because she was the only one who would believe me. She called CPS again, but because I was legally in my father’s custody, they chalked it up as a false accusation and never investigated it. Too much paperwork,” I tell her with a shrug.

  “But your mother, she was sexually abusing you,” she utters. “How could they overlook something like that? There’s nothing to be gained by you fabricating it.””

  I shrug indifferently. “If it’s a fucked-up home to start with and CPS gets multiple calls, unless the kids are dead or near death, they don’t give a shit. I would be willing to bet all the money in the world that if they knew my mother was forcing me to fuck her, they would have turned it around on me or looked the other way.”

  A small gasp slips from Christine’s lips as she covers her mouth with her hand. Her eyes become glossy, fully of pity and I loathe it.

  “They already think I’m a monster, which isn’t a lie either.”

  “I have yet to see this monster you speak of,” she retorts.

  “Soon enough,” I mutter under my breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

  I thought I could handle it. I could. But I don’t know if I can handle what’s to come.

  “Of course.” She gives me a small smile and grabs her pen and notepad. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “You wanted my story,” I point out. “So, we’ll visit every dark corner of my mind and I’ll take you back in time; I’ll tell you all of my secrets.”

  “If there’s anything you want to avoid talking about, like your mother, we can avoid that. The last thing I want to do is upset you or have your thoughts consumed by your past,” she says, carefully placing her hands on her lap.

  Chuckling lightly, I scratch the side of my head and rest my elbows on the cold metal table. “Trust me, when you’re in here for as long as I’ve been in here, you have plenty of time for your thoughts to run wild. I’ll be good.”

  My past doesn’t consume me, not on the outside.

  “Okay.” She nods thoughtfully. “I’ll let you lead the rest of this then.”

  Placing my forearms on the table, I circle my thumbs around one another, watching the fluid movement. Neither of us have time to go over every day of my childhood, but there were specific moments that slowly had me spiraling downward.

  A memory floats into my mind and my thumbs fall still.

  Where we’re headed, the sun doesn’t shine, the skies are black, and death hangs heavily in the air.

  I don’t retrace my steps back down this road very often.

  I hate it here.

  chapter sixteen

  PAST

  Freshman year came and went faster than I expected. It was rough, but I trudged down the hallways every day and passed all of my classes with my head down.

  I stayed out of everyone’s way and by my sophomore year, I became a wallflower. Blending in with the rusted lockers was natural and eventually, everyone forgot I existed.

  I wish I could say it was the same at home too.

  I quickly went from being nonexistent to being the apple of my mother’s eye, that is when she and my father weren’t ganging up on me. She was never kind, she never had anything nice to say, but when she’d got bored or fucked up and my father didn’t want to play with her, she came to me.

  She took me in as her little plaything instead of as her son. She’d force me to fuck her or pleasure her and then turn around and call me a disgusting freak for having my dick get hard for her.

  She threatened and manipulated me into playing her little games. If I didn’t, she’d make sure I ended up in prison being someone’s bitch.

  I didn’t want that, yet here I am anyway.

  Every time the blood rushed to my cock and it grew hard, I wanted to cut it off. My body betrayed me every fucking time.

  Sure, I had to imagine that it wasn’t her, that it was anyone but her. That never made it any better. In the end, I still got an erection and fucked my mom until I came.

  I tried to avoid home as much as I could, but my father noticed because my mother did. He started to keep me on a tighter leash and never saw what was really happening right underneath his nose.

  He wouldn’t have cared even if he knew.

  Summer was upon us sooner than we anticipated, and it scared the shit out of me… that is until Greg came into the picture.

  Greg was some degenerate alcoholic my mom met at her GED classes. It started out with him giving her rides since she didn’t drive. Eventually, she started sucking his dick for cigarettes and booze.

  It went on until the beginning of summer, when Greg decided he wanted more. As soon as he threatened to cut her off, she bounced out of the house and onto his dick.

  Since she was gone, my father was either at work or shitfaced, so that left Carson and I to ourselves. I spent the greater part of my life taking care of him, so it was no different than normal.

  With our parents doing their own thing, Carson and I were finally able to see Grandma again. She took us in for the summer and made sure we were clothed and fed.

  I knew she wished she could do more for us, but she did more than anyone else ever did.

  Tiffany and her mother still lived across the street, but I didn’t see her all summer. She once had an effect on me, back when I was your typical teenage boy who would rather spend his time jerking off, but after I was introduced to the sexual world through force and incest, girls only made me feel uncomfortable.

  I refused to give in to the temptation and see them as sex objects. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to touch them or have them touch me. Physical contact became a hard limit for me, and I avoided it at all costs.

  I avoided people at all costs.

  I learned quickly to keep everyone at arm’s length, and no one could hurt me.

  There’s a difference between learning something and applying what you’ve learned. I thought that was what I was doing, but that was before I realized I had a weakness.

  Tiffany was a rattlesnake wearing an angel’s clothes. One look at her was enough to bring you to your knees. Her sharp fangs dripped with honey, concealing her deadly venom with its sweetness.

  Fuck me once, shame on you.

  Fuck me twice, shame on me.

  She fucked me the first time when she showed me her fangs in front of her new friends at school.

  It was an important lesson that I had learned that day, but the moment she showed up at my front door again, I fell right into her trap.

  Carson and I had spent most of the summer at Grandma’s house. There were only a few more weeks left until we went back to school, so we tried to enjoy our time away from home.

  Grandma left early that Saturday morning with a group of some of the ladies she played bingo with on a trip to the casino. She was coming back later that evening, so Carson and I were going to stay at her house while she was gone.

  The air conditioner in the window was on high, blasting semi-cold air over my half-naked body. I had ditched all of the blankets and stripped down to my boxers in the middle of the night.

  The row homes we lived in got hot as fuck and a window unit air conditioner can only do so much when it’s blazing hot outside.

  The sunlight shining in through the window was bright and burned my eyes. I rolled over, groaning and reached for the alarm clock. When the numbers came into focus and I saw it was already eleven am, I quickly jumped out of bed, threw
on a pair of shorts and sprinted out of the room.

  Carson was always up early and came to wake me up every single morning.

  Something was wrong.

  Why didn’t he wake me up?

  Carson’s room was empty, as was every other room on the second floor. I raced down the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time and landed in the empty living room. It was silent downstairs as I rushed through the small house. When I saw the back door open, my stomach dropped.

  Carson was my responsibility and I had no idea where he was.

  I kicked open the back door and sprinted through it onto the back porch.

  “Where’s the fire?” a voice chimed from the bench swing. I moved quickly, turning toward the sound and found Carson and Tiffany swinging together.

  I stared at her in disbelief, feeling slightly angry. “Why are you here?”

  She leaned forward and squeezed Carson’s knee before she walked over beside me.

  “I wanted to apologize, okay?” she told me quietly. “I shouldn’t have ditched you like that last year.”

  “You humiliated me,” I reminded her.

  “I didn’t mean to,” she said, convincingly. “Going to a new school isn’t easy and I was just trying to make friends.”

  “Okay, so you got into the inner circle of the popular kids… what do you want from me?” I questioned her suspiciously.

  “A second chance?” she said sweetly, giving me a bashful smile. “Please?”

  I stared down at her, the girl that I loved, who was looking at me like she had the same feelings.

  “Okay,” I told her hesitantly and smiled. I wanted her in my life, in my corner. I longed for the attention and affection, for someone with true feelings.

  I was wrong… snakes don’t have feelings.

  Every lie she told me was filled with pure malice.

  “Let’s play truth or dare,” Tiffany suggested as she plopped down onto the floor by my feet and pulled down on my hand.

  I looked around at all of her friends who watched me expectantly with taunting grins on their faces. Tiffany tugged on my hand again and watched me with a warm, sweet smile.