Glad You Came
By Kaytlin Hubbert
05-23-12
They were my friends; my best friends and they hurt me deeply. I thought I could trust them, that we had more things to worry about, that-that nobody would think about doing that. I was wrong; they were still men who had…needs. Nobody thought of it, nobody thought to consider how I had retreated into myself, became a shell of my self; with their taunting words haunting me in my head. Nobody noticed, how I was pale, thinner, shying away from their touches; nobody noticed how quiet I was.
It was possible that the reason they did it was because of my father. My father, a murderous raving lunatic leading the opposing side. It was possible that maybe they thought if they couldn't hurt them they could hurt me and they did. They broke me. The once confident, smart, and independent woman became a shy, quiet, sheltered little girl in an instant, and that's exactly what they aimed for.
The first time they did it they had both been drunk and I hadn't been too affected by it because they had apologized saying that they didn't know what they had done until it was too late to stop anything. I wanted to scream, shout, yell, and kick at them saying an apology couldn't bring it back to me; that they could have stopped at any time yet they didn't. Instead I was quiet and held back tears that I knew would come soon; instead of saying anything, I stood and went to my sanctuary. The library was my home, the only place that was safe, warm, and a good thing in my life. That soon changed later that night.
I had just gone to sleep for an hour it seems when they woke me up. They were leaning over me wearing hungry, lustful gazes that made me shiver in fear. When I tried to get up they pushed me to the floor and repeated what they did to me the day before. That was the last time I went to the library, or anyplace else that felt like home to me.
Two people out of the entire school found out about it. A professor and an enemy. My favorite professor had found me in the bathroom in a puddle of my own blood, my arms were wrapped around me and I was shivering from the cold. They had gotten me pregnant and when they found out they… killed him, torturing me, pounding into me until I bled and bled until I was lying on the wet floor covered in my own blood like a fallen angel. He wanted to tear them to shreds but I stopped him, protecting them like I always did in life.
The ferret found out in September, I was almost in the same position, except they had been over me in the process. When he found me he shouted and shot off curse after curse at them until they were both running out of the bathroom with their pants down at their ankles. I probably would have laughed if I hadn't been in pain. The ferret ran me to the infirmary and I had him swear not to tell anybody, and he didn't, but he did become a savior to me. Helping me whenever he could and getting them away from me at any possible minute.
We had ditched seventh year to look for the pieces of my father's soul and…it was pure hell for me. The one snatcher had found out, he saw it my eyes and had tried to save me, I had to give him props too, trying to sneak me out during the middle of the night, although it didn't go as planned and they had killed him, tortured him and then me. Laughing like wild dogs enjoying their master piece before leaving me in the cold snow with nothing but the warmth of my own skin. I suppose that was when my father found out about it. He had accidentally reached out to me in a dream as a twenty year old and comforted me in my head, and that made me stronger. My so called friends had left me with the soul piece, claiming they didn't want to be tainted by the darkness, and that tiny fragment of my father's soul was the only thing keeping me going at the time.
When we had been dragged to the ferret's home I had almost skipped for joy at being so close to my father. When the ferret saw my broken face, and the way I carried my self he became angry and instantly told his aunt it was who they thought they had. Both boys had glared at me at the accident, they knew he wouldn't sell out their secret, but they also knew he'd help me in anyway possible, and the sooner my father got there the better. Things however had not gone as I hoped they would have. One of the stupid snatchers had grabbed the sword I had in my beaded bag and the ferret's aunt decided she wanted to talk with me, 'girl to girl'. I already knew it would end badly, but at that moment all I could think about was how I was finally away from them. When we got to the cottage it had stopped, I thought I was free of it and things started working out again, life seemed to be back on track, besides the fact I was a shell of my former self.
It figures that, as soon as things started to look up for me, started to…even out, it would fall to peaces again and it did. It shattered into tiny little fragments before exploding into dust. I tried to…escape and they double teamed me two miles from the cottage we were at. They had been so patient; they knew I would try something and they waiting. They were the predator and I was the prey, the unexpected, shocked, and fearful prey that took off running as soon as I heard them. I did exactly what they wanted, but I was unaware and they beat me and left me lying again in my own blood.
I shut my emotions off after that, doing exactly like Ian Somerholder did when he played Damon Salvatore in one of my favorite television shows. It was like flipping a switch off, I didn't care, I didn't laugh, I didn't cry, and I didn't scream.
When it came time to fight for our lives, I did so willingly, killing anybody who got in my way and not caring who dropped. When it ended I rejoiced; I had killed my red headed friend in cold blood and watched in satisfaction as he dropped to the ground and my father, the leader of the other side had killed the boy-who-lived. He found me beside his body, I couldn't stop staring at it, all the torment and torture was done with, but the memories would always be with me. My father had taken his glamour off in front of me, returning to his former handsome body and embraced me in his arms. He was there, with me, mentally every time they had done it and he knew I needed comfort. So when I begged him to kill me, he didn't refuse. He knew I needed to be free of the memories, but he did not wish to ruin or modify my memories.
"Please." I whimpered hoarsely into his cloak and he nodded. With a smile on my face I dropped dead to the floor and arrived in paradise.
For three hundred and forty-two days out of that whole year I was raped and abused repeatedly by my own friends, my best friends, my only friends and on December twenty-ninth I was killed and sent to paradise where I no longer had to suffer from them. The fallen angel I had been referred to became an angel, and the horrors my so called friends were, became plaything for demons, I couldn't have been happier.