I'm peeling you
from my skin
bit by bit
pausing at my tits
you from my exterior
to heal my interior
Hiding in the closet, small as I can be, my only company, my rag doll Polly. I imagine my heart exploding into little pieces and bursting out through my rib-cage. He is getting annoyed now I am getting used to the various tones of his calls. Some days he wheedles and coaxes no matter how long it takes, today his patience with me is thin, and it will get worse for me the longer it takes him to find me. Fear and loathing still make me stay, no matter how bad it gets I will never willingly hand myself over to him.
He is my big brother Andy, and I used to love him, that was before his special games. His first game was with my cat, he always called it pussy and made jokes I didn't get for a long time, I was too innocent, I get them only too well now. The tortuous treatment that cat had to endure I was relieved when she died. Polly is replacing her in my affections. Polly does not squeal or cry in pain so he has no interest in her. Polly's safe and she's all mine.
The hardest part of all this is that Mammy knows and does not give a toss. She talked to him after she first guessed something was not right when she found me pushing the sweeping brush in and out of my bottom until I bled. She asked me why was I doing that, slapped me, called me a tart, insinuated I was getting enjoyment out of this act. I told her I did it to make it sore. She said, "Why?" I said sometimes Andy does not put it in my bum if I am too sore or get blood all over him. Again, she slapped me and told me to stop lying, that I was a horrible, attention-seeking brat and just like my father. I would have loved to talk to her about my father but she has nothing good to say about him. He is a great excuse for her to call me names, Andy's father who died young is held up, as a good man, who could do no wrong.
I heard her ask Andy later what was going on and he says I love it and ask him for it, and that she better keep her mouth shut or she'd get a good hiding. She and I both know what he is capable off so she lets him away with it and does nothing to protect me, he is after all seventeen, over six foot and ever- ready with his fists. I would have some sympathy if I thought it was just fear on her part but the other night I was placed in Andy's bed by my mother in a t-shirt of his she had accidentally ruined in the wash, and nothing else, with a note, attached saying apologies and enjoy. She still was hit over the t-shirt but not as bad as usual. My Mother is the beast other Mothers protect their children from. She feels no need to hide under the guise of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Her hatred at home is out, loud and proud.
I look down at what I am wearing, nothing that should get him overly excited, fingers crossed today a handjob will do. Oh, he's gone quiet I can't guess now how near or far he is, it's been two days since last time and he was interrupted then by a friend of his calling for him. That friend stopped my abuse that day I was ordered to get dressed and come down and make them both something to eat, I am eleven, what the hell could I make them too eat that they couldn't do better themselves. That being said I was only too delighted to do it, it gave me a break at least for a while.
I have long since stopped looking at myself; I do not want to see. My mother says I am ugly that no one would want me except for her and Andy, that I am very lucky he gives me the time of day. She says if I stopped sticking out my ass and flirting with him that he would leave me alone, she says I learnt everything I know from Popsy. Popsy was my beloved cat, Andy killed her and that is the stick my mother beats me with.
I remember the time I ended up in the hospital with bleeding down below I think I was five. She told them I had fallen off my bike. The school reported my ailment, as I got blood on my uniform and the nurse became concerned. The hospital accepted my mother's story and I was given time off school, that felt like punishment to me, the school was my only escape. When I got home she beat me black and blue and didn't feed me for at least three days, my crime bleeding because I certainly didn't talk to anyone like she said I did, I think even then I was too ashamed.
Andy cried over me after that incident, said he was so sorry but it was just that he loved me so and at times lost control. He left me alone for what seemed like an eternity and I was happy for things to remain that way. I walked in one evening on him and mother playing the bottom game he likes to play which I hate and beg him not to do it, my mother was smiling, and asking for more. This didn't faze me in the slightest I went to sleep that night with the biggest smile thinking that's it, Andy will leave me along he's got mother to play with.
How wrong I was, he came back to me with new knowledge and more twisted games. Mother and he had more fights for a while and I often saw her black and blue. Did she try and protect me for once or was he only supposed to play with her?