Page 141 of Voices

“You know you like it!”

“You feel so tight!”

“Be good for me!”

“Such a good boy!”

There’s so much pressure.

It hurts.

Can’t.

Breathe.

Igasp awake with Shane’s hands on my shoulders. He’s saying something, but my heart is beating so loud in my ears that I can’t hear anything. Sweat drips down my temples and into my hair that’s sticking to my skin.

“You’re okay, Charlie….bad dream.” His words fade in and out.

I try to swallow but my throat is raw, and it feels like sandpaper. Shane helps me sit up and then hands me a bottle of water. I chug the whole thing, feeling like I haven’t drunk in days.

“What,” I rasp. I clear my throat and try again. “What happened?”

Shane takes the empty bottle from me and places it next to him. He pushes my sweaty hair off my forehead, looking exhausted.

“I’m not sure. I was sleeping when I felt your body jerk then you started whimpering. When I tried to wake you up, you screamed. Every time I touched you, you thrashed and cried out like it hurt.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob on a rough swallow. “I couldn’t wake you up, so I laid across your chest until you calmed.”

Shit. I haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while.

“Sorry.” I lower my head in shame.

Shane’s hands come up to cradle my face. He waits until I meet his eyes before he speaks. “You have nothing to apologize for. You can’t control your mind while you’re asleep. I just don’t like not being able to wake you sooner.” He strokes his thumbs across my cheekbones. “Do you remember what it was about?”

“Yeah,” I whisper with a shaky breath.

“Can you tell me about it? You know I’d never leave you, no matter what you say. I can’t sit by and watch you battle with yourself and not do anything. Maybe if you talk about it, get it off your chest, you’ll feel lighter and won’t have those voices in your head anymore.”

My eyes well with tears as his face becomes distorted. I can’t keep this from him any longer but speaking it out loud terrifies me. If Shane gets the wrong idea, not only would he be disgusted with me, but he’d do something that would alert my father. Then he’ll disappear.

Like the few before him who tried to help.

I decided to give him part of the truth.

I take his hands from my face and place them on my lap. Gripping them in my hands, I take a deep breath.

“I’ve never had a good relationship with my father. The earliest memory I have of him is him yelling at me when I was six because I couldn’t read as well as Benji. He called me stupid and said that I embarrassed him because I couldn’t read. I tried as hard as I could, but the words never made sense.It wasn’t untilI was in third grade that my teacher figured out that I was having concentration issues. He called my mother to let her know that I’ll be receiving different paperwork to help me and that she should look into getting a tutor for me. I didn’t think anything of it until I got home.

“Both of my parents met me in the foyer with anger in their eyes.My mother screamed at me, her voice full of rage, all because she was embarrassed by the phone call. She was furious that it interrupted her lunch with her friends, and when a few of them overheard, it only made it worse. I could feel her anger, not for what had happened, but because of how it madeherlook. She then refused to do anything my teacher suggested because she thought that I was faking and that I just wanted attention. It was the first of many times she disregarded any of my needs as a child.

“But somehow, I became friends with one of the smartest kids in class. He never made me feel less than. He just quietly shared tips and tricks that made reading a little less overwhelming.”

I pause, feeling my heart rate pick up at what I’m about to tell him. He squeezes my hands and nods for me to continue.

“At that point, my father never laid a hand on me, just used his words as weapons. When he motioned for me to follow him to his office, I thought I was going to get a verbal beat down, b-but he used m-my body as a p-punching bag instead.” My lower lip shakes as I fight back the tears that want to escape.

I blow out a steadying breath and tighten my hold on Shane’s hands. He blinks a few times but doesn’t say anything, so I use it as my cue to keep going.

“He kept all his hits below my neck, turning my stomach black and blue. When he was finished, he asked for my teacher’s name and then left me crumpled in a ball on his office floor. I called out for Benji, but he never came. When I made it to myroom, I cried myself to sleep. I never told Benji because I’m technically the oldest and I had to protect him. But that was my first mistake. No child should have to protect their sibling from their parents.

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