"How ridiculous and what a stranger he is who is surprised at anything which happens in life"
(Marcus Aurelius)
Have you ever wondered what it means to be happy? Not just any normal everyone has a happy moment happy, but a joyous bliss, dandelions and sun showers, marigolds and rainbows, a fairytale is ending happy, happily ever after, you know? Sometimes I do, I wonder how life would be if everyday I woke up more than just content with the mundane, the repugnant, but glad to open my eyes for another day, to see the world and find magnificent beauty. I think I used to be happy like that, when mom and dad were alive, a sweet childish smile on my face everywhere we went, laughter and giddiness bubbling within my soul. It was so long ago I can't remember much, but I think I was, I can feel that I was, the sun always shined, and the sky was always blue, but after the accident my sun was gone and my sky was an ugly shade of gray. I suppose only children are lucky enough to be so happy, their fragile hearts only able to process the good times, and they easily reject the bad. Its kind of like a movie you hate to love because the good guy dies at the end, you try your hardest to forget about the end, and only think about the beginning, the time that you enjoyed the most. Yeah... maybe life is like a movie, a good movie, with a bad ending, if you think dying is bad that is, personally I think it's the best part, but maybe my pessimism obscures my vision.
My movie ended when their lives ended, my good guys died and I rejected it, it just didn't quite soak in, I was a sponge filled to the core with to much happiness, a five year old blissfully ignorant to the atrocities of life. Then my Aunt took me by the hand and we walked away from their coffins, I struggled a little, saying wait, and they're gonna wake up soon, but they didn't, the lids were closed and they stayed that way. It never occurred to me to cry, I didn't know it was over, they were never coming back, so I skipped away believing it was all a game. Happiness faded a few years after the accident, like a film reel that gets to hot, it burns and the image distorts and fades to white, a lonely white, a silent white. I figured out what death was somewhere along my shattered time line, I was alone, no family-well at least one that cared for me much-and no friends, I was so different from everyone else that they didn't bother to welcome me. I was so pale compared to the rest of the children, so they made fun of the color of my hair and my bright blue eyes, and they ostracized me as if I was some sort of leper. Some invisible disease showed clear on my face, cyst or boils creating an imagae of a monster, and they avoided me for fear that they would catch it. At first I was sad, always crying to my aunt about the mean kids in school, but she didn't care, she was to high on some cocktail of drugs to even notice I was alive, so I turned to my older cousin Hiro. He was sweet sometimes, he would listen intently at my complaints and tell me that the other kids were just jealous because I was so much more beautiful than they were, his compliment to my beauty kept me a tad more enthusiastic. I figured his complements were just empty self-esteem boosters, but I soon learned otherwise. I confided in him as much as I could, I would sleep in his room because I was lonely at night, and slowly I attached myself to his hip, desperate for someone to hold onto.
One day I was in my room crying, just crying for no reason in particular, tears just found their escape, a river of salty emotions streamed down my cheeks. I was silent, afraid that any noise would bring attention to myself, but it wasn't long before I began whimpering, and then slowly whining, the emotional pain too much to bare. The walls were thin and my cousin heard me, his footsteps echoed down the hallway and he opened my door, his voice was so smooth, like velvet wrapping around my body, warming my entire being. The smell of liquor was all over him, it was revolting, but his cologne mingled with it and together it was intoxicating. I couldn't understand what he was saying, his words were slurred and he hiccuped often, but his presence soothed me and I felt safe, happy if only for a brief moment. He tussled my hair, and I welcomed his touch, but it was too rough and uncomfortable, the liquor removed his sense of gentleness and he forced my head back against the pillows, his eyes were glossed over and they seemed distant, like he was looking through me, not at me. His lips slammed down against mine, the few drops of liquor made their way into my mouth and made me want to vomit, I struggled against his weight, but his body was to heavy to move. His tongue brushed against my lips the heat odd and unpleasant, I tried to say something but only a whimper escaped. My nails clawed at his bare shoulders and back, I was trying to pry him off of me, but his grip would only tighten the more I struggled. His teeth bit down against my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to scream, but in an instant his tongue had plummeted down my throat and no sounds would release, his forcefulness was so apparent with his movements. His free hand began lifting my shirt and he squeezed against my torso, then my ribs and chest, his violence grew as I fought against him. He muttered "scream and I'll choke you" into my mouth, the sound of his voice was still smooth, like velvet, blood red velvet, a dangerous cloth that once was used for comfort had to turned a destructive hand.
He licked down my ear and neck until he found my nipples, his mouth consuming them and he sucked revealing a dark purple bruise. When both of my nipples were unintentionally erect he smiled a hideous smile I had never seen before; it was a smile that would cause emotional and painful dreams for nights through my already destroyed timeline of life. His mouth placed butterfly kisses down my abdomen, the sensation was arousing, but I felt disgusted as he forced him self upon me. My stomach churned, and bile rose in my throat, I swallowed it down willing myself to keep control, I thought if I stayed still he'd eventually stop and leave, but I was sadly mistaken, much to my chagrin. He unzipped my pants and pulled them off, tears running down my face once again that night, my savior had turned on me and was now destroying my body with his touch, at nine years old I knew what he was doing was wrong and I wanted him to stop. I stuttered please through my sobs, but his advances only quickened at my discomfort, my body shook violently as he positioned himself in front of me, his eyes were so dark and invisible, and that smile was… His hand covered my mouth muffling the scream that ensued from his invasion into my body, the pain rippled through my whole body, it reverberated through my core, like a pebble sinking into water, my stomach knotted and my bottom tightened against his thrust. Over and over again he pushed deeper into me, and the sounds of his moans slowly etching themselves into my brain. After what felt like an eternity he came, his warm juice filled my insides, and he pulled out and left the room. I cried for hours lying in a mess of my own blood and his filth, before the tears drowned my consciousness into a dark oblivious slumber, nightmares of smiles and moans filled me with fear and disgust, and I lived as a hostage to my own humanity then after.
Night after night Hiro would steal into my room and rape me; his smile eventually faded leaving only an ugly callused face. My body had grown accustomed to the feeling and it was less painful, but the taste of his lips became more and more disgusting, I hated his touch, and his smell; my hatred burned against his body and he could tell so he fucked me harder. I stopped fighting after the first few weeks; my body was only a shell, unfeeling, and uninvolved, it was my mind and soul that took most of the damage. My everyday life continued as normal, I never dared to tell anyone what Hiro did to me for fear that I'd get into trouble, or no one would believe me. Between home and school I was slowly being killed, my heart, and my body were deteriorating, dust blowing in the wind. Every morning was like waking to a million stabs in the back and heart, each one more painful then the last, leaving emotional scars that would never heal; year after year was the same. The day before I turned 14 my aunt died, the doctor said she over dosed on heroine, I couldn't muster up any sympathy for her, hell if anything I hated her even more, the wench found her release from this taking world. The courts awarded custody to Hiro since he was already 21 and the only family I had left, he was such a wonderful actor, he cried and promised the judge that he would take care of me in the name of our parents, what a load of crap.
He rented out a small two bedroom apartment with only a bathroom and kitchen, and one large window in the master bedroom. The atmosphere that the house radiated was depressing, the walls were mud brown, and the floor was gray and had either missing or broken tiles showing cracked cement. My room only had a twin sized bed covered by a sheet and one pillow, and a lonely looking closet, water pipes hung precariously from the ceiling, rusted and leaking water droplets to the floor. It smelled sweetly of mold and must causing my nose to run and hide into my face, from my unclean, brittle mattress I watched a mouse as it scurried underneath the closet door, motionless I mechanically mapped out the malnourished and mistreated apartment drawing up mental blueprints. As I aged I learned that I had a photographic memory, a rather useful coping mechanism, a way to find light in the darkness, safety in the danger. If I was in danger and incapable of protecting myself I would sort through a file in my mind and find the image of the faces that I missed so much, Minato Kamikaze and Kushina Uzumaki the last sunshine that I believed in. I laid on the uncomfortable inner spring mattress for hours blankly staring at nothing and everything that mattered, for an instant I forgot I was substantial, It was like an out of body experience. I stared at an unfamiliar battered and bruised blonde boy, his muscles tense and body stoic, I wished I could help him, pick him up and fly far away, instead I simply stared, tears rolling down our cheeks in sync. The splintered door to my room sung creakily as it opened and revealed a drunken Hiro, I didn't bother to hide my tears, he's seen them countless times already, a liquor bottle hung lazily from his hand and he beckoned me with the other.
I followed obediently, accepting my seemingly predetermined fate; I assumed I was an absolute villain in a past life to deserve the horrors of this life. There was a man standing in the threshold of the house and hallway, his black hair long and covered most of his face and one eye, an unkempt beard was visibly obscuring his mouth, but when his lone eye spotted me a smile erupted showing hideously distorted teeth. His smile was worse than Hiro's, there was a visible viciousness that Hiro's lacked and it sent a series of shivers up my vertebra, I instinctively backed away from him, there was no where for me to escape to, but it was human nature to preserve ones self from harm. The idea of another man taking me the way Hiro did was to much for me to handle, I turned to run into my dank room, but he was quick, his hand wrapped around my lower body and he caressed my face with his other. I fought against him but his massive size impeded my escape, he and Hiro spoke in a language I couldn't understand and exchanged money, I was being sold to a stranger by my own cousin.
His savagery knew no extent as he ripped my shirt in half, I kicked and screamed, but he didn't stop, saliva spewed from his lips as he told me to shut up in Japanese, but I didn't, I screamed and cried, and cried and screamed. His open hand met my mouth; the force spilt my lip and the only real substance the kept me alive leaked down my face. Obediently I did as I was told acting out his revolting and malicious request, the pain he caused while thrusting his dick down my throat was excruciating to say the least, and I choked on nearly every inch. When he was satisfied he tossed me against the bed and stripped the rest of my clothing off; he licked his lips amused at my facial expressions of pain and discomfort. Hiro's room was much larger than mine was and better furnished, his bed was queen size and had silk sheets and pillows, and a velvet comforter hugged the bed snuggly and felt nice under my back, I thought it was fitting. Red velvet, slightly comfortable, yet dangerously smothering. My mind avoided the current situation and I stared at everything but the brute of a man preparing to take me, I imagined he wasn't there, that I wasn't there, instead I imagined I was at Kegon Falls.
Mother and Father took me once, I remember it well because the ride from Tokyo to Chu-zenji Onsen was so long, but it was worth it, the magnificence of the waterfalls were breath taking, the colors of the trees in the fall accented the sight perfectly. White water fell from an unimaginable height swiftly, and twelve smaller waterfalls breathed behind it. We took an elevator down to the base of the waterfall, it disappointed me because I thought we would stand at its top and look down, but father told me it was much to dangerous. I found myself crying at the images of beauty, both in my parent's eyes and the scenery, but my vision was destroyed as the Behemoth above me thrust into my anus. Over the years I believed that I gained a resilience to the intrusion, but his size was much more than I had grown accustomed to. His grunts of pleasure echoed of the walls of the room taunting me, salted sweat dripped of his face and body falling into my mouth mingling with the iron taste of blood.
His movements were quick and precise, and I hated the fact that after sometime the feeling was oddly pleasant, sensations of ecstasy crawled along my body, and I moved in rhythm with his thrust. My habitual hatred for the torment that I had endured over years decayed and I found myself smiling devilishly, but empty tears still feel, my nervous system knew nothing of pain nor pleasure any longer, only a sick shock of something unrecognizable and I succumbed to his desires. By this man's hands everything was being broken, common sense, my body, my heart, everything, I no longer knew who I was, a man made sexual deviant, a nymphomaniac. After I was raped by the dark haired behemoth I craved the feeling everyday, every moment I was awake, and my cousin would oblige my feelings with new clients. I was destroyed, Naruto Uzumaki was dead never to live again, and I was made anew, I named myself Troy, after the Roman city that feel, I feel as did the city trusting a gift from an enemy.