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I asked him, “I was gone for all that time, and
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you only called me when you wanted
something. None of you ever cared about me
otherwise.”
“Why should I go back?”
“Sarah, I’m telling you, you’ll never get rid of
me.”
It had been raining hard for days. I was
rushing home, carrying stacks of files. There
weren’t many pedestrians on the street that
night. It felt like most people were inside, safe
and dry.
But he was standing under the streetlight,
wearing a raincoat. I didn’t see his face. I
didn’t have time to wonder what he was
doing, I was too busy trying to stop my tears
as I thought of how to tell Ben that I was
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pregnant. Should I use this baby to force Ben
to leave me alone?
Perhaps my fight with Ben was what made
the killer decide I was his next target.
He came up behind me, covering my mouth
with his hand. He was so strong, I couldn’t
fight back. The faint smell of cigarettes
overwhelmed me, and in that moment, I was
brought back to the night when I was eight.
I was once again falling into that abyss.
I begged him to let me go. While he was
holding my throat, he was hitting me. My cries for mercy only made him more violent, until
the taste of blood filled my mouth and I gave
L
I so desperately wanted to live through this
moment like I had all those years ago.
They saw the killer behind the glass.
He was plain looking, average height. No one
would have guessed such an unassuming man
would be capable of something so horrible.
It was like he knew he was dying and wanted
everyone to suffer.
“Your daughter looks just like you. Too bad.
She was out to seduce people from such a
young age, right?”
He grinned at my mom. He then looked at my
stepdad and Ben, saying, “You’re a great
wife, a great mother.”
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“How could you not have known what was
happening to your daughter, day after day?”
He glanced at Josh, saying, “You’re a fool. She kept you on the top of her contacts list.”
“I saw the paperwork for the medical
appointment in her bag, I had planned on just
letting her go and hoping she’d be lucky for
once.”
“And then I saw her phone. Her sister
apparently hated her. She had sent her
messages calling her disgusting.”
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“I saw the photos on her phone. She looked
just like that woman who ruined my life when
she laughed.”
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“I decided since all of you hated her so much,
I would take care of it for you, so you
wouldn’t have to.”
“I guess the reason you hated her was her
face, so I peeled it off. She was unconscious
after, which was kind of disappointing.”
The police told him to stop upsetting the
family. He did and just started laughing.
I understood what he meant. He was going to
die soon, but they would still have to live.
I sat on the table, studying their faces, trying
to find a hint of remorse.
My mother was staring straight ahead, not
crying, just standing there, like she was just
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hearing a story. A story about someone
unfortunate.
Ashley was crying. I knew why she hated me,
but even though she bullied me at school, I
never hated her.
I stood in front of my mother, staring into her
eyes. She couldn’t see or hear me.
“Mom, the police won’t let him say it, but I
want to tell you what I went through.”
After his manic tirade, the killer got to his
feet and pulled a knife from his pocket. I
stared at it in fear, begging him not to do
anything. He crouched in front of me, tapping
my face with the blade, the cold metal
sending shivers all through me.
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He rifled through my bag, finding the paper
with the test result that revealed my
pregnancy. He put it back and then used my
ripped clothes to cover my body. I was so
relieved that it was over, that I was alive.
But then, just as he was about to leave, my
phone lit up. It was a message from Ashley:
“Sarah, you’re disgusting. Even your own
brother isn’t safe.”
He read the message, grabbed my hair, and
made me read it too, saying in a quiet voice
that he had been planning on letting me go.
The rain had finally stopped. I could smell the
fresh, wet earth, feel the gentle moonlight,
and the evening breeze.
I experienced the most intense, sharp pain
imaginable.
He used the knife to slice my fingers off, one
by one. Through my swollen eyes, I could see
the bone. When I thought I was dead, I felt
him slice open my face and tear off my skin,
leaving me with enough consciousness to feel
the ice that enveloped me.
The bitter cold of the freezer immediately
froze my bare face, causing sharp, piercing
pain.
“See, even your own sister thinks you’re
disgusting.” He said right before he left.
He had finished with me.
He knew Ashley was my sister because…..
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…because that’s how I always had her saved
in my contacts: “Sister.”
My relationship with my stepdad started to
sour when I turned ten.
That nightmare when I was eight had only
happened once. Afterward, when I saw how
nice my stepdad was, I started to doubt what
had happened that night. I was filled with
self-doubt. How could someone so good do
something like that?
Oh, it must have been my fault. I stopped
avoiding him, acting like I used to. But I also
felt a tinge of guilt, always doing what he
wanted.
Then, on my first day after turning ten, he
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told my mom he was going to take just me to
the amusement park to make up for not being
able to take me out on my birthday. He told
Ben and Ashley not to be jealous, that this
was a special birthday gift that everyone got
at their turn.
I happily took his hand, waving goodbye to
them from the car, promising I’d bring them
back presents.
After drinking the water he gave me, I grew
sleepier and sleepier, and the car kept driving
further and further away. The next time I
woke up, I was in a strange room, my hands
tied. Once again, I was surrounded by
darkness.
From the ages of ten to fourteen, which are
supposed to be some of the best years of
your life, I was trapped in that deep hole,
again and again.
I was afraid to wear dresses, or bright colors,
or to get too close to my friends. I thought
everyone was laughing at me, mocking
someone whose soul was so broken,
someone who didn’t deserve such pretty
things, or to breathe the same air. I was
convinced they could smell the rot coming
from within me.
I kept my distance from Ben and Ashley. They
had my stepdad’s blood running through their
veins. They terrified me.
It was one of the few times my house was
peaceful. Because of my distance, my
relationship with Ben and Ashley worsened.
Though they didn’t understand why, they
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respected my wishes. I became the outcast.
When did that peace get shattered?
When I turned fifteen, I guess. My stepdad
noticed Ben was upset after a breakup, so he
took me to a hotel. I struggled, trying to fight
back, but he just kept hitting me until Ben
found me with my hands tied and bruises all
over.
It was when Ashley was fourteen and saw me
leaving Ben’s room with my hair a mess and
tears running down my face. She also saw my
stepdad sneaking into my room one night.
I became the villain in their eyes.
But what had I done wrong?
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On the day that Ashley confronted me in the
bathroom for the first time, I went back to my
room and cut my skin with a small knife, the
dark red liquid dripping to the floor. It felt like
I was back in the afternoon when I was eight.
The dim room, the light coming in through the
gap in the curtains.
The thick cigarette smoke, and my suffocated
screams.
