Page 24

THE DEVIL’S HOME…

I wake up alone, the sheets around me calm to the touch, telling me they’ve been gone for a while. I’m in a faded, worn T-shirt so large on me it falls to my knees, comforting me since I’ve also realised I’m completely naked underneath.

I get up from the bed, grab my knickers quickly, pull them on, and go downstairs.

The smell of butter, bacon, and pancakes roams through the cabin, making my stomach growl and my mouth water. Following the scent, I go to the living room and walk to the connected kitchen.

Sean smiles at me from where he is making breakfast. Jessie sits at the table reading a newspaper, but Tobias is nowhere to be seen.

I feel the pit in my stomach rise with sickness. I don’t know why I feel like this. Is it because he isn’t here, I lay in his arms all night, or he was right there, next to me, when I woke up from my nightmare, showing me compassion and tenderness?

They were all there for me when they heard me screaming, each getting comfy on the bed while I lay my head on Tobias, my legs on Sean, and my hands on Jessie. They took care of me.

Now and then, I awake screaming and sweating from nightmares of that place. I thought I had gotten rid of the scene as it had been months since I last had one, but I was wrong. I'm lucky I was curled up in bed with the three of them.

This one was the worst. I was reminded of the worst day of my life, and it wasn't when my father sold me.

The smell of aftershave awakens me from my rocky sleep, leaving me feeling uneasy. I take a minute to turn around, scared to see the horror that awaits me today.

As I turn around, I'm struck by a man who's taller than me, towering over me at the end of my bed, if I can even call it that.

My first move used to be to scream at the top of my lungs, waiting for someone, anyone to come and help me, but I learned very quickly that no one in this house is here to help; all they are here to do is destroy my life in every little detail they can.

They have damaged me too much in this place.

I'm moulded to act like they want me to.

Be submissive to every move.

My eyes are fully awake now as I look over the man's features. He isn't the same one who usually comes to my room, as he has for the past years like clockwork.

This man is taller, has broad shoulders, and is freshly shaved.

I make sure not to move a single muscle, not until I'm told to.

Another thing I learned is that men are in control, and you do whatever they say, no matter what they want.

“Get up and get dressed!” The man's voice burns right through me. They just want to see all of us. Which also means we're going to be in training.

Training on how to be submissive to our man when we are sold.

I can't imagine most girls make it very long before their bodies wash up on the shore.

Not that I've ever seen a body washed up but it's all I can imagine, and these men are powerful, people look the other way when they do this kind of shit.

You can’t change my mind that people don’t know what's going on. I bet they are covering it up. The last thing they want is the people who are supposed to make our country better, yet they are doing the opposite.

I stand in a line with the other girls, some I had met, some I had yet to meet, but most of us are shaking.

“I get it, you're scared, but acting scared and shaking will only make it worse,” I whisper to the girl standing next to me, looking like she might crumble at any given second.

My father walks over to me, yanking my arms toward him and pulling me out of the line, making me stand in front of everyone beside him.

“What part of standing and not opening your mouth do you not understand?” Don’t do it, Ash. Shut up is all I say to myself, but even I know I'm not capable of keeping my mouth shut.

“None of it.” I sneer at him, glaring. A crease forms above my eyebrows, and a firm hand slaps me across my face three times.

The fourth time, he slapped me so hard that I fell to the floor as he spat on me.

“Don't make me punish you. I wouldn't want you to enjoy it. Seeing a whore like you would.” Being called a whore by your father is a different kind of hurt and trauma. One that no girl wants to hear, but it was the only thing he ever called me.

I slide into one chair around the breakfast table, and Sean places a plate of bacon, another stacked high with pancakes, maple syrup, and a steaming hot cup of tea in front of me.

The smell of this food has me practically drooling. He fills a plate and hands it to me, doing the same for Jessie and himself.

“Thank you,” I say, stabbing my fork into a piece of bacon and pancake and bringing it to my lips.

I eat every bite of food. Leaving my empty plate by the sink, I leave the kitchen to sit on the couch with Jessie. We share the same black fleece blanket I was given last night.

“Where’s Tobias?” I ask, slightly concerned that he isn't here. He could be out looking for wood, but we rarely go there alone.

“Good question, no clue. I’m sure he's around here somewhere.” Sean says, coming over to the couch

A knock at the door has me going into flight or fight mode.

What if it's the police coming to take me away? Please don't be , I say over and over to myself.

I didn't have the police on my list of people to kill.

Yes, I have a list of people to kill. It's a very long list, and I'm going to set it as my New Year's Resolution.

Jessie gets up and opens the door. The curtains are drawn closed.

What the fuck?

My mouth is open wide, my face turning red, and then there it is.

Everything that keeps me up at night.

The devil, the person who will have me going right back to my fifteen-year-old self.

My father…

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Before my father can step in, Jessie stops his body, freezing as his eyes make contact with my father. Everything in me is kicking at myself for not having a gun on me at this very moment.

“Miss me? Daddy certainly missed you.” Those sour words have my stomach wanting to curdle at the sight of the grin on his face.

“Well, invite me in then. Surely, you wouldn't want your friend to die outside.” I don't even think about my subsequent actions; I'm launching myself toward the door, but before I can carry out whatever actions I had planned, my father pushes Jessie to the floor and steps inside.

The air around us changes to a hostile environment.

Rage.

Blood.

Vicious.

Vicious thoughts.

Tobias is harshly brought inside by his collar, dripping blood from multiple places. My father throws him to the floor as he groans in pain, unable to move.

“What the hell did you do?” I shout, running over to Tobias. Kneeling beside him, I check his pulse, shaking his body. I need him to wake up.

“Please wake up, I need you to wake up,” I plead, still rocking his body back and forth. Sean and Jessie don't help me; they just stand looking at me with disappointment.

“Fuck, why are you just standing there? Help me.” I turn him over so he's lying on his back as I go to start CPR. Jessie kneels beside me, taking my hands between his and rubbing them together.

“Angel, stop, he isn't here.” My eyes fill with tears falling down my face, Jessie catches them with his thumb.

“Stop it, he’s going to wake up. Jessie, please tell me he will.” I need him to tell me, even though I know he won't.

“Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes? He will wake up. I drugged him. Stop overreacting.” My father says, his eyes burning through the back of my head. I can feel him lingering around me.

“It’s me you want, so take me. Leave them out of it.” I lift my knees off the floor, walking over to stand in front of my father. It's been ages since I saw his face this close.

I hate him, but I also kind of want to feel something other than hate.

Is it normal that even though he put me through hell, I kind of wish he had turned toward a new way in life and could be my father?

What the hell, Ash, stupid, he could have your sister. I say to myself

My stomach hurt knowing they might have had to go through the same things as me, maybe even worse.

“Ash, what the fuck? You will not be going anywhere with him. Over my dead body,” Sean growls, coming up behind me and pulling my hair in his fist, harshly sliding me back toward the kitchen. All that does is make my father chuckle.

He pulls me to one side.

“Are you crazy?” I mean, if he's only just realising this, I worry he might be the crazy one

“You will not go back there. I won't let you, even if I have to take my life, so you're safe.”

Cute, real cute, just not the time.

“Okay, so as cute as that was, this isn't the time. My father will kill you and me.” I try to walk away, but I'm brought back into his hold, and my body is slammed against the back of the wall.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at me with all the fury one person could have.

“Let me make one thing straight. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“If I need to take a life to prove that, then I will. Ash, mark my words. I would go to hell and back for you. I would walk through fire a thousand times,” he growls, becoming angrier, squeezing his hands around my throat, stopping me from breathing.

“Want me to kneel for you and beg you to stay with us? Done.” He doesn't understand.

My father scares me; my skin is crawling in his presence, but my sisters mean more to me than any of them, and they don’t know the full extent of what happens in that place.

I have things burned into my mind that no person should have to see every day.

I've seen more horror in my thirty years on this earth than anyone would in their entire lifetime.

When I'm killing those men, I feel nothing, no rage, all I feel is safe.

When I say I do God’s work, it's just a saying.

I don't even believe in God because if I did, he wouldn't have done this to me.

So yes, some would say, how can you send souls to hell because I want to have my freedom to take them, and I sure as hell won't let another man take away my liberty and silence me, that includes my sisters.

“Stop it, Sean. If I go, I might be able to save my sisters.” He doesn't let go of his hold and looks at me as if I just insulted him.

“Ash,” he growls.

“I get it, you want to see your sisters, but how do you even know they are with him?” Okay, good point he has there, but why would I go back to the hellhole?

“Oh my God. Okay.”

“God won’t help you, the only God you cry out for is us. God can’t save you. No one can but us. We can save you and help you.”

“I won't go,” I say, looking at him.

“See how you listened to me? That’s because I am your God, and I worship you. I love you, Angel.”

He lets go of my hand as I turn around, and my father opens the door.

“The devil always saves his Angel.” My eyes shoot up, glancing at him. I'm no angel, but just for a second, I can pretend it's real. I don't even get to fight him before a woman walks in with two others who look younger.

All of our mouths drop wide open.

No, this can't happen. This isn’t her.

I saw her.

I k-k-k…

TO BE CONTINUED…