by Cerys du Lys
I tell Angeline, and I feel like a fucking asshole after. Hey, love, I can't come see you for a few days. Sorry.
What the fuck am I supposed to do, though? It's either help my dad or help her, and I feel like if I don't help my own family to make sure we actually have a fucking home, I won't be able to help her after, either. One thing at a time. One fucking step forward, then another, and you keep going like that.
I'm gone. I left her. I help my dad and every fucking second I can't stop thinking about her. It's sad, like I miss her, but it's also sad because I don't know what the fuck they're doing to her. I feel like if I'm not there, they'll do even worse shit, except even when I'm there they do bad shit. It's not like me being there stops them from hurting her. I don't fucking matter. I never fucking mattered. I'm useless.
Days pass, and things work out, and then I go back there. My dad gives me a little extra money for the help, since we're all set now. We've got things settled. He'll be able to start his new job and we won't have to worry for a few more months. Life is good.
No, it's not. Fuck you, life isn't good.
Angeline is even worse when I go back. I walk in to a bunch of fucking assholes pounding away at her. Mostly they just use her for sex, then they hurt her after. It's good to separate that shit, I guess? Nothing's more of a turn off than some bitch bleeding on you when you're trying to get off. I don't know. That shit doesn't interest me.
She's laying there, though. Just taking it. That's how it usually is, but her eyes are dead. More dead than usual. I almost think that there's something seriously wrong at first. I mean, fuck, the whole situation is seriously wrong, but more wrong, you know? From bad to worse, whatever you want to call it.
They leave. I don't know how the fuck I did it, but I'm like some badass alpha male or some shit and they give me my space with her. I guess it's because I'm quiet. I don't talk a lot, I just say what I think needs saying. I get Angeline to myself. It's like they think I give her to them first, then I take my time with her after. I guess that's how it is, but it's not what they think. They don't matter to me, anyways. Their entire existence is a bunch of bullshit to me. They're meaningless. I fucking hate them.
They leave, and now I'm here with her. I go to lock the door like I usually do, then I sit down near her feet. I reach out to help her up, but she doesn't take my hand. She just lays there, crying.
Guess what I do? I ask the stupidest fucking question anyone's ever ask. Hold on and listen to this, then laugh, alright? It's that fucking funny.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She's still crying. It's not a flat out bawl, no loud fucking sobs, but it's silent, steady tears. I can't stand it. I don't want her to cry.
I move to her side and I wipe away her tears as best I can. She flinches at first, but when she realizes it's me, she stops. I guess she didn't recognize me? I've only been gone for a few days, but how long is that for her? Must seem like an eternity.
"Noah?" she says. Her eyes blink and a slight haze lifts, then she's looking at me.
"Hey," I say. Yeah, that's it. Just hey. I'm real fucking magniloquent, alright? Fuck you.
She reaches up to scratch her nose, but something's wrong. She keeps trying. I don't get it. She starts to cry even more. It takes me a second, but then I see it. She doesn't have fingernails. There's dried skin like leather where her nails used to be. She can't scratch her nose. It's literally impossible.
I don't know why this specific thing pisses me off more than all the other things, but it does. What the fuck did you do, you fucking assholes? You kick her, you hurt her, you rape her, and now this? Won't even let her fucking scratch an itch? I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I saw scratch marks under her arms, too. I tried not to think about it later, but somewhere deep down I realized she must have done it herself. Why? Was she trying to kill herself? I wouldn't blame her, but I don't want to think of it. I don't want her to die.
I scratch her nose for her. I keep scratching until she takes my hand and pulls it away.
We hold hands like that for awhile, her laying there, me sitting at her side. We're just holding hands. It's real fucking sweet. She's naked, covered with some sick fucking bastards cum, missing her fingernails, and I'm fully clothed and mostly regular. We're the picture perfect couple. We should be on a fucking magazine cover, that's how fucking perfect we look right then.
We don't look perfect, we probably look disgusting and like shit. I don't care. Fuck you.
"I brought you some food," I say.
Finally she lets me help her up. She sits and I sit next to her. Usually we sit facing each other, but I want to sit next to her today. It feels closer, I guess. I don't fucking know. I reach for my coat and pull out what I brought her.
It's toast, like usual, with some red fucking raspberry jam, but there's also one of those shitty plastic-wrapped sandwiches you can buy at the gas station and a couple of fruit-filled breakfast bars. It's like a goddamn fucking Thanksgiving Feast or some shit, especially to her. Usually I can only bring toast.
She devours the toast, along with the napkin. While she's eating that, I open the sandwich for her. It's egg salad. I figured it'd be easier for her to eat. She destroys that, too, just fucking swallowing it whole. Then one breakfast bar, and the other. Now for the food finale. I planned this shit out perfectly.
It's water. It's just a bottle of fucking water, but I know she doesn't get a lot to drink. It's one of those small ones, not even a full twenty ounces. Ten ounces? I don't know how much fucking water it is. It's small but it's the best I could do.
She drinks it, but she sips slowly.
"You can drink it faster if you want," I say.
"No," she says. "Please, I want to sip it."
That's fine. Whatever she wants. I don't care.
"What happened to your nails?" I ask.
She doesn't answer me. I'm not sure if she heard me, so I repeat myself.
"I don't want to answer," she says. "Please, don't make me tell you."
Look, love. Just fucking listen right here. Let's get one fucking thing straight, alright?
I'll never make you do anything. I won't force you. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I love you.
I don't tell her that, but I wish I had. I don't actually say anything. I just let her sip at her water.
We're sitting side by side, hip to hip. I can feel her warmth pressing against me. She's so frail and fucking small, but she's warm. If she had food, if she could get the fuck out of here, I think she would be better. Stronger, not as small, normal at the very fucking least. She used to be that way. I hate that she's this way now. It's not her fault. I don't hate her for being this way, I hate them for making her this way.
"I'd give you my nails if I could," I say.
I say this, but I don't have one fucking clue how much that shit hurts. I know now, but I didn't know back then. It wouldn't have mattered, because I still would have done it, but yeah, fuck, that shit hurts.
I smile and reach up and scratch her nose again. She tries not to, but something makes her smile.
I lied before, love. I never said it, so maybe it's not a lie, but I lied. Sorry. I'll make you do a lot of shit whether you want to or not. I'll make you smile, I'll make you happy. I'll make you warm. You will be the fucking warmest, happiest, smiliest fucking bitch on the planet. Smile for me. Be happy for me.
She nuzzles against my hand like a cat, then she pushes my hand away and leans her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and hold her close.
"Can I lay in your lap, Noah?" she asks. "Can I put my head in your lap and will you tell me a story?"
"Yeah," I say.
She scrambles to get into a good position. Her head's in my lap and the rest of her body is curled up close against mine. I reach down and cover her as much as I can with my arms and my hands and my upper body. I'm probably touching her thigh or something. Maybe her ass. If you saw it, you might think it's sexual. It's not sexual, you fuckin
g asshole, it's just me trying to keep her warm.
Belatedly, I realize I've got my coat with me, so I cover her with that, too, but I'm still holding her and keeping her warm that way, as well. We're just real fucking close.
I tell her a story. I don't remember which one. Some stupid fucking fairytale. Cinderella or some shit. Who gives a fuck?
I don't finish it, though. I don't want to. The end sounds real fucking depressing right now. It's not supposed to be depressing, but it is.
Angeline says it for me. "And they lived happily ever after."
I don't want to tell her that I don't know if happily ever after exists. I don't want to tell her that I'm starting to think it's the biggest fucking lie anyone's ever said.
*** Noah
We have phones. I just want you to know that it's not like we're entirely backwoods over here. I mean, we don't have cellphones or shit like that, but we've got landlines. You can call people. I don't know who the fuck you would call, but you can do it. The church has a phone, my parents have a phone, the schoolhouse has a phone. There's phones.
If you're sick from school, you can call the teacher. That's really it. Maybe people's parents call each other or some shit. I don't fucking know. There's phones. Not used that often, but they exist.
I hear the priest talking on the phone one day when I show up. He's in his office in the back. It's strange, so I go to wait around nearby before going down to Angeline. It's hard to watch them fucking her, anyways, so if I can hold off, that's better.
Maybe that's an asshole thing to say, because it's probably real fucking hard for her to get fucked, too, but it's just hard to watch. I feel like I can do some good by hanging around during this phone call, anyways.
He's talking to someone, smiling it up, looking like a real fucking happy and smug bastard. I fucking hate him. For a second, I contemplate walking over and strangling him with the telephone cord, but I don't know if that'd work. He's not weak or anything. He could fight me. And then what the fuck happens?
I'm no use to anyone if I die. Even if I don't die, if I attack the fucker he's not just going to let me hang out around the church anymore. I'm not going to leave Angeline like that.
He sees me standing in the door, but he just kind of ignores me. Gives a little wave, kind of a shitty hello, and that's it. I mull around, then step towards his desk. It's not like I can't or anything. Remember, I'm like the trusted fucking alpha male or some shit. He's more important than me, but I guess that makes me second in command?
There's some papers on his desk. I don't intentionally make a point of flipping through them, but I don't have to, either, because I can see exactly what's on them. It's some contract, transfer of ownership, what the fuck ever. Seems like the kind of thing you see when people sell their cars, except the price tag on this is a whole fucking lot higher than that.
A million dollars? Holy fucking shit.
He hangs up the phone, then smiles at me.
"I do God's work here, you know that, right Noah?" he asks.
I shrug and nod. He likes to say shit like that, but it doesn't mean much. Not in the way that you think. It's not God specifically, but just religious shit. Probably more like "I help out the community."
He doesn't help anyone, because he's a sick fucking bastard, but obviously I can't say that.
"The cost of divinity is high," he says. "Not only because of what we must do in the name of the Lord, but there are other costs, as well. Maintaining this building is expensive. We receive tax benefits, but it's not always enough. I could do a lot more good if I had more money, don't you think?"
I don't know where he's going with this, except for the million dollar contract sitting on his desk.
"I'm going to transfer ownership of Angeline," he says. He picks up the contract, holding it up for me to see for a second. "She'll receive the same treatment she receives here, and I believe that in time she'll be able to find salvation without us. She'll also be providing us with some much needed money in order to further help everyone. Isn't that wonderful?"
I just fucking stare at him. I don't know what to say. No, it's not? Fuck you? I want to fucking beat you senseless with a broom and then snap off the handle and shove the sharp end up your ass?
If I look strange, he doesn't notice. He puts the contract back.
"I believe your time with her this afternoon is soon. Please make sure that you punish her well. She won't be here for much longer."
"How long?" I ask. Yeah, well, fuck, I finally manage to say something.
"A little more than a month. We'll keep the preparations for our summer solstice event the same, but shortly after that, someone will be coming for her."
Fuck.
"Let's keep her transfer between us, alright? You've been a big help. The others aren't as understanding as you. We need to work to remove their sin and show them the light, but I don't think they'll accept losing our precious Angel. That's not to say we can't find someone else to replace her, but it will take time. God works in mysterious ways, Noah."
Fucking hell. I want to fucking kill him. I need to do something.
*** Noah
I'm useless. I'm an idiot. I'm fucking useless and I'm a fucking idiot. There you go. That's it. I said it. What the fuck do you want me to do about it?
I can't even save one fucking girl. Maybe you can't comprehend that shit. I couldn't comprehend it before, either. Who the fuck was I supposed to save? This isn't fucking princesses and castles and knights riding on huge fucking battle steeds, you know? It's real life.
Apparently real life is worse than all of that. At least knights had honor and chivalry or whatever the fuck, right? Maybe that's a lie, too. Maybe they made it all up just to make it look better. I don't know. I don't give a fuck.
I don't know what I want to be, but I never wanted to be useless.
I've spent months now just sitting back and doing nothing, though. Not sure how else to explain this shit. What the fuck would you have done if you were in my situation? Please, tell me, because I don't know what to do. I thought I'd wait and figure shit out as I went, because I didn't think I could do anything on my own. I still don't think I can do a whole lot, but I've got to do something.
If I don't do anything, she's gone forever.
Maybe it's better that way. Maybe it's for the best. I hate when people say that. I hated it then and I hate it now. Oh, maybe it's for the best. Yeah, go fuck yourself. Maybe it's not for the best, too. How the fuck would you know? I don't want your stupid useless answers. I'm already useless enough as it is. I don't need your help becoming even more useless.
I sat back and waited, hoping I'd have a chance to do... what? I don't even fucking know anymore. To save her, I guess. That's it. How? Never crossed my mind. I was doing what I could, bringing her food, giving her a chance, giving her a goddamn fucking break from the rape and abuse and torture. Isn't that enough?
No, fuck you, it's not. It's never enough. That's not a nice fucking thing to do for someone. The nice fucking thing to do would be to save them and make sure it doesn't happen again.
How?
Well, let me just fucking tell you how. It's a shitty idea, and I don't know what else to say about it besides that, so let's just live in the goddamn fucking moment.
I've saved up some money so I could make this special. It's like my first date, but I never thought about going on a first date before. Not a lot of people to go on first dates with here, and if you'll remember I spent most of my time in the middle of the woods. What the fuck do you want me to do, date a goddamn grizzly bear? That's probably easier than what I'm about to do, so maybe I should have done it.
I know he doesn't keep Angeline chained up anymore. There's nothing she can do, anyways. Where's she going to go? She doesn't have anything. She barely has clothes. If she manages to get out of the church and go to someone's house, they'll just send her back. Oh, it's just that Angeline girl at the door, dear. She must have gotten confused. Night terror
s, maybe. Let's walk her back to the church...
If you walk her back to the church I'll fucking kill you, do you hear me? I will fucking murder you in your sleep, slit your fucking throat, watch the blood gather on your fluffy fucking pillow until it soaks in and becomes heavy like a rock, and then I'll drag you outside and throw your dead body in the lake.
Go to fucking hell.
This is a bad idea, but I'm going to the church. It's the middle of the night. I've got a flashlight with me just in case, but I can't risk using it right now. It's bright enough, anyways. The moon leaves a shining path of divinity for me. I don't know if I believe in divinity. It's easier to believe in it existing far away, high up on the moon. I can't believe it exists here. There's a church down here, but there's nothing holy there.
I bet it's nice on the moon, though. I bet they're real nice people there. I know there's no such thing, but if there was, I bet it's great. I bet they truly believe in doing good and helping others, and all that fucking shit. I just think it must be nice.
I get to the church and the door is unlocked. No reason to lock it, I guess. Who's going to break in? It's a church, and we're in the middle of the woods.
Yeah, fuck you, I'm breaking in. I open the door a crack and slip inside, then close it behind me just in case. I plan on making this quick, but I don't want some random fucking asshole wandering by out front and seeing the door open and wondering what the fuck is going on.
Nothing. Nothing's going on. I'm doing what I should have done a long fucking time ago, alright? Just get the fuck out of here.
I tiptoe past the pews towards the lectern and the head of the church, then take a left towards the stairs leading down. It's light enough up top, but once I get to the stairs it gets a ton darker. It's fine. I know where I'm going. Wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if I tripped down the stairs, broke my neck, and killed myself, though?
No, it wouldn't. Shut the fuck up.
I make it down to the basement fine. I keep going, quiet, and listening for sounds. I don't know what the fuck is going on, you know? What if he's down here with her, some fucked up midnight tryst or some shit? I don't know. The asshole is fucking crazy.