Author's Note: As you read on you will learn who "HE" is and the only reason "HE" is capitalized is because does not always register italics for my story. Also, if you listen in the first part of the game (the graveyard scene), Angela DOES say she has a brother so I didn't make that up though he is never mentioned again. This is only MY interpretation. I don't own anything of course.
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During the nights whenever my mama had gone and HE was too drunk to think straight, I took over the role of the wife. I cleaned HIM, fed HIM, and helped HIM get to the bathroom when he needed to throw up and HIS bed when HE was tired. HE was like a child. Adults are supposed to be responsible caregivers but this one was a baby with a diseased mind. It first happened in this way: HE stumbled in the house reeking of a smell unrecognizable to my nose (though that would soon change). Sweat bled through his shirt making me wonder if he'd walked. Under HIS breath HE shot a command at me that wasn't understandable. Naturally when I made no attempt to get up HE became enraged. "Get up and help me," HE repeated harshly (it sounded me like "G't uh an' heeelp me"). So I did as I was told and led HIM to HIS room. There HE collapsedon HIS bed. For a moment I thought HE'D died. Then HE spoke again. "Come here, Angela." ("C'm hheree, Annjulah"). The way HE said my name still frightens me to this day. Being a frightened child, I obeyed with no questions asked. HE grabbed a hold of my wrist tightly to pull me onto the bed. I remember being confused as HIS hand moved up my dress. Up until HE fell asleep, HIS fingers stroked against the outside of my underwear. Even after HE was out I was paralyzed. My older brother, David, had no idea at the time. I was seven.
Episodes similar to this occurred regularly at predictable times. I felt helpless and unsure of what to do. David didn't care. In fact anytime that man came home drunk, David hid. I had to deal with it all myself. Whatever HE asked for, I retrieved. Whatever HE requested, I obliged to. There was no other choice for me. Every night mama was gone her place was taken by me in their room, in their room, in their bed. She didn't know. The procedure remained the same until after the arrival eighth birthday. By then it had advanced: first to more touching then to kissing and then…
The biggest problem of all was not knowing or having anyone to ask. Maybe the teachers knew but they pretended not to. Just like mama did for years. The first time I felt the searing pain of HIM inside of me, mama found me hiding out in the bathroom. I was bleeding and unsure of how to make it stop. Mama panicked immediately. She put me in the bathtub and turned on the water as she cried. No tears ran from my own eyes. I found myself feeling empty like an abyss had grown inside of me. Maybe HE'D put it there. The water eased my pain. After mama pulled me out, she put me to bed. She was still crying at this point but had calmed down considerably. I remember her leaving just as I was falling asleep.
After that incident, mama started changing. She very gradually became meaner- at least toward me. It was bad enough David picked on me all the time. At first it was only little things like forgetting to make me lunch for school. Once in a while David would show me some pity and share a bit of his lunch with me. But that didn't happen very often. Then mama would deliberately ignore me each time I spoke to her. For a long time I didn't understand why. It made me feel bad, anyway, to be treated in such a way by her. It was even harder whenever I wanted to ask her about what HE had done. Inside I was still feeling empty. It became difficult to concentrate at school. My thoughts were always somewhere else though I never actually thought about anything.
"David, do you know why mama's mad at me?" I asked him one day.
"Because you're annoying," he said. "I heard her talking to dad and she's thinking about giving you away."
"Nah-uh!"
"Ya-ha! Go ask dad!" The only reason he'd said that was because he knew I would be too scared to do it. I knew he was lying but I was still hurt. My heart wrenched as though someone had just yanked it. For a minute I WAS going to ask HIM. I even played it through my mind: "Daddy, are you and mama really gonna give me away? That's what David said. He's being mean." Then HE would pick me up and say, "Of course not, honey. We love you." But this was completely unrealistic. HE would either A: ignore me, B: yell at me, or C: be too drunk to understand me. So instead I went off to my room.
The next tome mama left, she was gone for nearly two weeks and had left only four days after returning from the last time. From my bedroom window I watched her leave. "Good, go," I mumbled to myself. She left obediently like she'd heard me. A few minutes later HE decided to leave as well.
Downstairs David had already begun taking advantage of being left home alone. He was ten at the time (his eleventh birthday just around the corner) but he had already been smoking for two months. A common thing for families like us labeled as "trash" by the town. I didn't have to see him doing it to know. The smoke bled my eyes dry of tears as I reached the bottom of the steps. Cigarette smoke always bothered me. While he pretended he was "man of the house", I began cleaning. I foolishly thought if I cleaned up the house I'd be safe from whatever HE had planned for me. My hands were wrinkly by the time the dishes were finished. Dishes were the part I hated the most. Touching other people's gross, soggy food made me sick. I did everything I could- even dragged out the vacuum, which was really heavy. The only thing that didn't get done was the laundry.
"We don't get allowance, you know," David said when he noticed. There was more pity than malice in his voice. But I pretended not to hear him. He went upstairs with me following. At the end of the hall was mama's room. Normally we are not allowed in there but I've already been in it many times and David sneaks in whenever they're not home. I never really looked around the room before (considering the circumstances under which I was there) to figure out why. It was an ordinary room with bland carpet and dirty white walls. Maybe the walls weren't actually white at all. The bed was centered between two curtain-covered windows. Under those windows were nightstands with a single drawer in it. An empty dresser hid in the shadows on the left side and a closet on the right. Other than that the room was vacant. With no much in it, it was hard to understand why we weren't allowed in there.
"We're not supposed to be in here," I whispered as if someone had been there to hear.
"Then go on They're gone anyway." He pulled a drawer out from the nightstand on the left. I knew that was mama's side because that's the side I always had to lay on. Very few items hid in that drawer: a few barrettes, a scrunchie, old jewelry, and a comb. Nothing David was interested in. "Here, come clean this up." He rolled over to the other side while I did as I was told. The upside down picture frame caught my attention first. It was mama with HIM, both looking young and happy. Mama's brown hair was to her shoulders. Its waviness caught a hint of the sun. She was smiling and could probably have been a model with her flawless skin and beautiful features. It'd been a long time since I'd seen her so happy or beautiful. HE LOOKED like a nice young man, ready to do anything it took to properly care for his family. Too bad it's just a picture. Pictures carry false hopes. Even sadder, everyone said David was the "spitting image" of HIM. Unable to look at it anymore, I turned it over.
"What are you looking for?" I asked my brother. He'd been going through the drawer of the nightstand while I'd been lost in thought.
"None of your business. Go find something to clean and go away."
"There's nothing left to clean. I think I finished it all." He didn't say anything more so I sat on the end of the bed and watched him. His hands sifted through the contents of the drawer greedily. Finally he plucked something out- a fresh pack of cigarettes along with a lighter. "David, you really shouldn't-" The front door downstairs slammed shut. The two of us knew what that meant. HE was coming. David quickly hid in the closet. I shoved the drawer back in its place and was about to escape when I ran right into HIM.
HE looked down at me with cold eyes. My legs wouldn't move. It seemed my body had decided to go against my mind. The only thing I could do was put my hands over my head. HE just stared for an eternity. Since I wasn't looking at HIS eyes, I had no idea what he'd been thinking. Then a hand touched my head. "Angela," he said ('Anjulah'), "you're such a beautiful girl." Up in HIS arms HE took me and carried me to the dreaded spot only a few feet behind us.
The last thing I remember feeling- physically feeling- was the bottom of my skirt sliding up my belly button. After that I floated away. For a second I thought I had become a ghost, thinking maybe HE'D suffocated me. I saw myself lying there helplessly but still breathing. What HE was doing was hurting me- I could SEE that. But no physical pain could be felt. The abyss had consumed everything inside me. All my tears and emotions had fallen prey to the never-ending pit created by that man. That little girl under HIM was no longer me. There was no me. I no longer exist.
Until he had poked his head out for a brief moment, I had forgotten David was hiding in the closet. The look on his face bore confusion and fear. Quietly he shut the door again so I slipped through the cracks to see him. He crouched down behind some dresses that hung low enough to conceal him. His hands were over his head. What kind of thoughts was going through his head then? What had he been afraid of? I wanted so badly to tell him to sneak out but my mouth wouldn't open. The abyss had taken my voice and sewn my mouth shut. Before I could do anything more, something dragged me back to my shell.
I sat up choking. HE lay next to me either sleeping or passed out. At any rate I was able to make it to the bathroom. This glob of a disgusting unknown substance came out of my mouth. I wanted to throw up. What was it? HE must have made me eat something while I was "gone". It was out now though so it didn't really matter. Even if I had figured it out, what good would that possibly do me?
As soon as I opened the bathroom door I let out a surprised shriek. David stood right in front of the doorway. His eyes were vacant and dark. The abyss had slowly begun consuming him as well. "Are you hurt?" he finally asked. His voice had come out surprisingly soft. It kind of scared me. Even on the days he was nice to me he never sounded this way. I only shook my head to answer him. My voice was still a prisoner of the abyss. How long would it be trapped there? The concerned expression on David's face suddenly disappeared. He struck my face so fast that if I had not fallen to the floor I wouldn't have known he'd hit me (my ability to feel that type of physical pain had not yet returned either).
"Why did you let him do that to you? How could you just sit there? You should've run! You had a chance to get away! Why didn't you take it?"
'Why didn't you help me?' I shouted back in my head. 'Why didn't you try to stop him?' It didn't matter whether I'd stayed or left. If HE had done something to David I would've been in trouble for that.
"You're so stupid. No wonder mom hates you." Then he turned around and left. Mama didn't start saying similar things until a few years later.
I remember dragging myself out of that horrible room. It was difficult because my whole body felt like play-dough. I was starting to my room when a voice startled me. "Angela." I turned around and mama was there. She had emerged from the darkness. Her presence didn't feel the same. I didn't feel safe standing there with her. "You've been so much trouble, acting out at school and at home. What am I supposed to do with you?" At school, not long after the abyss stole my voice, the teachers had completely given up on me. They labeled me a bad kid and did what they could to get me out of there. Mama heard about this at the only conference she'd ever attended. How could I explain to them what had happened? Inside I knew they wouldn't believe me anyway. They had mama convinced I was "trouble".
I was "trouble" when I wore dresses. HE liked it when I wore dresses. It made it easier for HIM to get at me so I stopped. I started wearing pants instead. While that idea did help a little, it just delayed the inevitable. It was "trouble" when the newly labeled "troublemaker" didn't clean the house. Because I always had it done in the past, HE started expecting everything to be perfect when HE came home. There were consequences to face if this task wasn't accomplished. The first time I disobeyed I had decided to try to find a way to hide from HIM. In my small closet, I had made a hiding spot under a low shelf using clothes that had fallen from their hangers. A book (of fairy tales) and a flashlight waited there too in case I had to be there a while. I had been so busy preparing my hiding place I hadn't cleaned the house at all. When HE yelled at me in that slurred voice tears sprang to my eyes.
"Angela," HE repeated just as loud ('Anjulah'). "Get down here now!" David's room door shut and locked quietly. Mama had left earlier after yelling at us. No one was going to help me. "You've been lazy. Look at this mess." When I didn't say anything, HE grabbed my wrist and twisted it behind my back. HIS cheek was against the side of my head. HIS sweat was now on my skin. It made me feel disgusting. "Look at that fucking mess!" Since I cleaned the house almost everyday, it hadn't actually been very messy. Only a few things were on the floor. HE spun me around. HIS face was still close to mine. "I work all day to take care of you and you can't clean the fucking house? It's a simple fucking task, you lazy shit!"
"I'm sorry," I finally breathed out in a quiet voice. It had returned from the abyss but t hurt to speak.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." It was escaping again.
"Not sorry enough." He hoisted me over HIS shoulder. The sudden jolt made me yelp. From my position, I watched the floor go by underneath us. I was going to die I just knew it. We went into the kitchen where HE dropped me. My body hit the floor hard and the way I was dropped caused my elbow to smack against the floor, which made my arm tingle. HE stood above me, staring down at me with HIS furious gaze. 'You're going to die. No one will even notice when you're gone,' a voice in my head shouted. The next hit was to my face. I felt my brain hit the surrounding bones so hard I thought it'd make a hole in my head. One after the other the blows continued until tears started falling. This satisfied HIM greatly. "Next time maybe you'll do what you're told." Finally HE left me alone.
Blood dripped from my mouth and everything ached. Upstairs a door slammed. HE was finally going to bed. I tried to say something- call for someone- but nothing came out. HE'D taken it again and put it back in the pit. It seemed my voice only came when HE wanted me to speak. Would I ever be able to talk normally again? I had other things to worry about at that moment. I wanted to get out of the kitchen. Slowly I managed to drag myself to the living room. My body now pulsated with pain in tune with my heart. David came downstairs once. But he simply stepped over me and continued on his way.
In the morning David awakened me. He'd delivered a kick to the ribs hard enough to get the pain going again. "Get up, stupid. Dad wants you to clean up your mess off the floor before you go to school," he told me. 'Dear God,' I thought, 'How can he call that evil man dad?' My head bobbed up and down to indicate I would do as told. David left without me. Smeared on the floor in the kitchen was a spot of dried blood. I grabbed a sponge from the sink and scrubbed away. By the time it disappeared I was already late for school.
The teacher just sighed at the sight of me, "Take a seat, Angela." Everyone sneered as I walked by. Their thoughts made no difference. The abyss was still growing.
During recess I hid in the field behind a tree. Usually no one noticed me except for the occasional joke or shove. But that day David happened to be playing nearby with his friends. His friends always made their own comments and told David how much they pitied him for being related to me. On bad days they would physically attack me. It was great fun for them to cause me pain- David included. But on that particular day one of the boys came by me. His face twisted into this disgusted expression. "Don't you ever take a bath?" he asked. "Didn't you wear those clothes yesterday?"
It was true. I had been wearing the same clothes for a couple of days. I had been too exhausted to change before taking off to school. It'd been early a month since I took a proper bath. None of the others even stopped to take a glance at me. That one little comment made me hang my head in shame. David's friend had given me something else to worry about for the rest of the day.
A few times when I became desperate clothes (mama wasn't there to wash them, HE certainly wasn't going to do it and neither I nor David knew how to wash clothes) I would take David's. All the dresses were in the garbage. There was no way I would put those on again. David got angry about it. In front of his friends he would make a scene over it. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he'd yell. "I don't want YOU in my clothes!" He said 'you' as though he were addressing an insect. Sometimes he didn't say anything at all, but he would always strike me for it. Once he ratted me out to HIM and HE made sure I paid for it. Mama merely shook her head when she heard about it.
"Angela, what am I going to do with you?" she said. "You need to learn, girl. All of this has to stop. You don't even answer when someone talks to you. And this acting out…" That's what she called it: 'acting out'. Apparently every time HE was touching me I was 'acting out'Every time HE was making me do disgusting things to HIM, I was 'acting out'. Every time the abyss received more power, I was 'acting out' Mama's approval really mattered in my book. I wanted to be worthy of her love. I did everything I could to gain her approval but there was always something wrong with the tasks I completed. Didn't anyone care? Could I not make anyone happy?