Shhh...Mack's Side (14 page)

“Let’s swim out to the dock,” Kyle suggested.

“No way. An alligator will eat us,” I teased, knowing I didn’t have to worry about an alligator in the Appalachian Mountains any more than Gia had to worry about a shark. Maybe a bear or a mountain lion.

“Come on
, you big chicken. Let’s go, Mark, I’ll race you,” Kyle tormented, knowing my father wouldn’t do it. I smiled at his sneakiness. I knew what he was up to.

“Um, No. Go to hell. I’m done.”

Watching my father walk out of the water and away from us, I turned to Kyle. “Now what?”

“Swim!”

“No. I was serious. I’m not swimming out there.”

“Yes you are. You’re going to swim out there, go to the other side of that slide
, lean against the dock, and wrap your legs around my waist.”

“What if I don’t want to do that?”

“You do. You’ve been begging for it all day. Swim.”

Of course I swam out, ducked behind the dock and wrapped my legs around his waist. We kissed, making out in the dark lake, hiding behind a big piece of wood. Kissing Kyle was magical. I didn’t find it disgusting at all, nothing about him made me feel
like less of a person because of his age. I could kiss him all day.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, sliding my suit to the side.

“You like it?”

“I think I love it. I need to see it.”

I laughed. “Remind me to let you do that.”

“I need to see it now. Pull yourself up on the dock.”

“No. Someone will see.”

“It’s pitch black out here. Move up.”

He didn’t really give me a choice. I pulled myself up and he stayed in the water, just in front of me. My breath caught in my throat when he slid my bottoms to the side. He couldn’t have been able to see much. It was so dark. Using his fingers like brail, he read the freshly nude skin on my lips.

“I fucking love this. When did you do this?” he asked, moving in and sucking on my already overactive clit. I grabbed a fistful of hair and grinded into his mouth. It had been a while, almost three weeks since we’d been able to get away. I didn’t
answer his question. I was sure explaining how Gia and I talked our mothers into laser hair removal would send him running in the opposite direction. I needed him to keep doing what he was doing. Feeling his finger slide inside me, I noted the warm feeling against the cool, wet skin as he moved it in and out. Noticing the way his thumb spread my ass cheeks and accidently on purpose rubbed up and down my puckered ass.

Neither of us said anything, and I didn’t protest when his mouthed sucked my pulsating nub and his finger penetrated my ass. I came so hard, he pulled me to the water to shut me up. Sliding down his body, he slid right into me. I rocked my hips and leaned back. Kyle ran his hand down my chest and held my hip
s, pulling me into his hardness.

“Come inside me,” I whispered to his lips, knowing he didn’t have a condom. I was on the pill. I just didn’t trust them. I couldn’t remember to take them.

Kyle fucked me for a few minutes, and then moved to the ladder. Standing just above me, he entered my mouth. I sucked him off, tasting the salty pre-come on my tongue. It awakened the arousal throbbing between my legs again. Kyle and I finished with my legs around his waist. I don’t know why I wanted him to come in me. I thought maybe it would intensify my orgasm. It
didn’t. I didn’t even feel it, but I knew he left a part of him inside me.

I yelped when I heard the car horn honk to get out of the road. Shaking off the memory of that hot day at the lake, I reminded myself that I was on my period and wouldn’t be touching anything for a few more days. I needed to stop thinking about Kyle.

Dragging my few groceries behind me back down
the hot, muggy road, I couldn’t wait to get back home to the cool mortuary my small house had become. Maybe I’d work on the puzzle some more. If I could just get that one swampy area done, the one that they all looked the same. I’d read through the TV Guide, too, find the depressing shows of the week, and maybe I’d even start the book I’d picked up from the drug store. Oh, and I did want to get that—

Where am I? What was that smell? Were my hands tied? I couldn’t move my legs. Why was it so dark? My eyes were covered. What was over my eyes? Carpet! I felt rough carpet on my cheek. Humming. I was in a car. Oh my god. A trunk. I was in a trunk. I could smell the fumes. That was the last thing I remembered. I was out cold.

That smell. My god. What is that god awful smell? There must be something in the trash, maybe something rotten. Trying to move, I realized I wasn’t in my apartment. I couldn’t move. Why couldn’t I move? My hands were bound together above my head. I could feel the cold bars. I was in a bed.
A small bed. Twin maybe. Where? What the hell was going on? I thought about how dark it was, and then realized my eyes were covered. Trying to move, I heard springs.

I knew what was going on. I knew it without a shadow of
a doubt. Now that I think about it, I think maybe I knew when I saw the car parked alongside the road. I was sure I’d been taken by Mr. Nichols. I followed the Shayla Harbor news. I knew he was out. I knew he’d just gotten released from his parole, was honored the request to move to Virginia, and was no longer being babysat. Is that where I was? Virginia? Not that it mattered. I could still smell the smell.

Gasping, I tried to sit up when the water was dripped between my legs. I was naked.
Why was I naked? Stiffening my legs, I felt the tampon being pulled from me. Figuring he had the box from my grocery bag, I held my breath, waiting for the insertion of the new one. It didn’t come.

I could feel the mattress being soaked below me. That’s what I was thinking about. I was grossed out by the blood being rinsed into the mattress that I laid on. Was he going to do that for three days? My OCD would have an anxiety attack
on top of the one I had for sure. I don’t think I ever screamed, not once. I felt…I felt reformed, as dumb as that sounds. Deserving.

He didn’t talk. Wishing I could get the gag out of my mouth, I wanted to say his name. I wanted him to know that I knew what was going on and I was okay with it. I couldn’t talk. All I could do was lay there, tied to a bed, an older bed, one with cold bars at the top and bottom. I felt it with my bare toes. I laid there as still as still could be. Silent, motionless, just waiting, waiting for something that never came. I heard him rustle across the floor, open the door, clos
e it, and lock it. What the hell? It wasn’t like I was going anywhere.

I managed to move the blindfold a bit with my shoulder, just a slit at the bottom. That
, too, was useless. The room was pitch black. Why did I need the blind fold if the room was dark? Why did I need it period? I knew I was being held by James Nichols. I’d even tell him I knew it was him if he’d take the gag out of my mouth. I realized then that was the smell. My own saliva, soaking into a dirty gag of some sort.

I jerked my body when I felt the fly land between my legs. The blood. Great. This was bad. This was so bad. That was what my mind had to focus on, the constant twisting of my hips, trying to keep the flies from wanting to eat the blood, dripping from between my legs. I wanted a shower. I wanted out of the disgusting bed that I could feel soaked beneath me. He couldn’t leave me there for three days. Not like this. I’d die.

I watched a documentary a few nights before, one of my sad choices to help keep me down. There was a soldier from Vietnam, a prisoner of war survivor. He spoke about being kept in a cage. He survived seventeen months of torture, starvation, and beatings, but the one thing that caught my attention most was the silence. He spoke of how the silence, being left alone in the dark for hours and hours was the best thing that ever happened to him. He said he found himself. I found him to be a little out there, wondering how on earth that could be good for anyone.

I was going crazy, constantly trying to keep the flies from my menstruating vagina while my mind raced with thoughts. Thoughts from everything. Early memories of Gia and me racing up and down the sidewalks in o
ur pink Barbie Jeeps. Birthday parties, cheer competitions, Christmases, vacations. I was left this way, becoming more and more disgusting. I felt absolutely repulsive. I could smell me. I could smell the stench in the mattress and the corners of my mouth hurt from the gag being wet and digging into my skin.

Medicine!

I needed my medicine. Did he get them? Did he know? I was panicking and it wasn’t even time for my second dosage yet, or was it? I wasn’t sure how long I had even been there. Panic set in at a rapid rate. My heart sped to an unhealthy beat while my legs twitched, eradicating the disease infested flies from my own body fluids. Fluids I was lying in. Where the hell was I?

Hours past, I was sure. There was no way for
me to tell the time. Everything was dark. I should have talked to my mom. I would be dead before she found me. I would never see my—my—my. Wait. There was no one. Not one person was going to care that I was missing, let alone dead. LILA! Lila would call my mom when she couldn’t reach me. How many days or weeks would it take before she worried?

I began screaming after hours of being tied to a bed in a pool of blood an
d water. I was freaking out and I needed not one but all of my prescriptions. I couldn’t live without them. I’d never been without them for more than a couple days. That was to my benefit. This wasn’t. This was bad. This was so bad. I couldn’t be tied down while being high. I had to move. I had to. I couldn’t stay like this.

The voices were starting. I could hear Gianna calling for me, the wind chimes, and the sound of my own cries, only they w
eren’t my cries. They were five-year-old McKenzie’s cries. Why was she crying
? It’s okay little, Mack. Don’t cry. Fish sticks and applesauce. Somebody get this girl some ice cream.
What the fuck? Calm down, Mack. Calm the hell down, and try to stay focused. I danced in the dark, tied to a bed. It was okay though. I didn’t need to move, or any light. I could see it all in my mind. I was a ballerina, dancing in a plethora of lights. Beautiful lights. I hummed, smiling around the gag in my mouth.

Hours passed while my body fidgeted, dancing away my happy life. “You’re so pretty,” I sang around the constricting material in my mouth. I held Cara’s little hands and we spun in circles, laughing, singing
, and dancing. Flip flops and ping pong for the birthday party in the tree house. What? No, not that. WTF? I mean she was such a little dancer. Her little tutu was adorable around her little waist.

The next time he came in, I screamed around the gag. The water being poured between my legs was ice cold. I tried to talk, desperately trying to get him to take the gag off. He ignored me, pouring the cold water around my mouth. I had no
choice but to swallow. Not only was my bare ass lying in a puddle of yuck, I could now feel it in my hair, running down my neck, soaking into the mattress beneath my head.

All I could think about was being clean. I wanted to be clean. Clean and untied. I needed up. I screamed, and thrashed my body again, not wanting him to leave me.
He couldn’t leave me like this. He did. He left me, locking the door without a word. I screamed around the gag, and then screamed some more.

I never heard him say one word. I didn’t understand what he was doing. Why he wouldn’t talk, or why he bothered to come in at all. The only thing he did was pour water
between my legs and down my throat. What if it wasn’t Mr. Nichols? What if it was someone else? I was very carless, and I hadn’t chosen the safest neighborhood to move to. I could be anywhere. With anyone.

I started thinking about what had happened. I was walking home from the store. No. Did I make it to the store? Yes. No. Did I have my cart? I did, but was it empty or full? I didn’t know how long I’d been in the trunk. How long was I out before we arrived here? I found that out pretty quick. It had to be a long drive. I was far away from my home. I knew this to be true because I was crashing. More time had passed than I thought. This is the time I would take my prescription and pass out for hours, only I didn’t have my prescription.

He had to give me something to counteract my normal high. This wasn’t how it worked. Why was I so exhausted? I was shaking. I don’t know why I was shaking. It was hot. Very hot. I couldn’t stop trembling. My entire body shuddered, even my teeth chattered. That’s the last thing I remembered. I crashed.

When I woke,
I finally understood what the POW had talked about. I found solace. There was nothing left to think about. I had thought about it all. Every last thing I could remember. I didn’t want to think anymore. That’s when it happened. That’s when my mind rested. I consciously meditated, ceasing every thought that crept into my mind. I never knew meditating was talent. It’s virtually impossible to stop all thoughts. I made it a game, while I lay there in silence, until I had to pee. Damnit. I screamed again. Twisting and turning until the blindfold was off. Having unrestricted eyes did nothing to help in freeing my arms or legs. It did little to help with my vision, too. It was still pitch black. My bladder hurt. I couldn’t hold it any longer.

Letting out a high pitched moan, I felt the warm
th run between my legs, into the mattress with the rest of the filth. I wanted to see. I needed to see. Observing the way I felt, I thought I was okay, other than I was a little hungry. I hadn’t had any food yet, maybe I’d just waste away to nothing. If I could train my mind to not think about it, I imagined I would go peacefully. I’d just drift off, never to return. It’s difficult to explain. Solitude is an interesting situation to be in. I didn’t do anything but lay there in silence.  

As crazy as it
sounds now, I found peace. I found peace while forcing myself not to think about the flies, the wet bed beneath my naked body, or the darkness. Becoming used to the idea of being blind, I rested, trying to turn off my brain and find serenity.

I think I would have gone berserk had I not learned how to look from within. Call me crazy, but I found a peace that I never knew existed in the most fucked up place I could have found it. I didn’t feel alone anymore. For the first time in my life I felt there was something bigger than me, bigger than anyone, a powerful force that told me none of us were alone. There
was a higher power out there. I felt it, or maybe I was just crazy and needed my meds. That was also a possibility.

I’m pretty sure it was the third day that I was finally moved from my position. Trying to keep the days straight in total darkness was virtually impossible.
The blindfold went back over my eyes and the gag was removed. My tongue darted out, licking my sore lips. They felt swollen, sore, and cracked. My hands were freed from above my head next, but not separated. He kept them tied together, fingers intertwined.

“I’m not mad at you,” I spoke. He froze. I felt his hands stop all movement on my bound feet. He didn’t answer, continuing to free me from the bed I hoped he wouldn’t tie me to again. The blindfold was kept on, but I wasn’t complaining. It felt good to sit up. I’d been laying on my back for three days, I think. His hand felt warm when he touched the back of my hand, placing a sandwich
between my tangled fingers. I didn’t feel hungry at all. I think I did the first day, but not really, nothing animalistic or anything.

I had to hold the sandwich between my thumbs. I lied. I was famished. The cold bologna and cheese sandwich was better than my favorite dish from
the food truck in NYC. I devoured it in seconds, wanting more. I didn’t get it. I was pulled to my feet and untied from my ankles. My legs felt weak, like the muscles had forgotten how to work, my mind felt fuzzy, like I might faint. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to walk when he pulled me forward.

Unsure of
what he wanted me to do, hoping he didn’t plan on me doing anything too overexerting, I walked. He pulled me by my arm and I shuffled my feet, steps in front of him. Although I was still blindfolded, I fought the urge to jerk from the sudden light beneath the material covering my eyes. I didn’t want him to fix the leak.

What the hell
?! We kept walking and walking. I was in a hallway, a long hallway. Where the hell was I? The wooden floor creaked below our feet. He was wearing work boots and jeans. I wished I had clothes. Why was I naked?

“Where are we going?” I asked. No answer. Just a shove to keep moving. I saw the steps before he stopped me. He didn’t know I could see a little. I
t didn’t help much. All I could see was the floor and the red rings from my ankle restraints. We were in a building. An old building, abandoned probably, but where. Feeling like I was in a hospital or something, I saw a wheelchair wheel. I knew this place was creepy and I couldn’t even see anything but the floor.

“I’m naked,” I protested when he opened a back door and led me to a patio. The concrete was barely visible from the years of neglect. Grass and weeds took over, leaving little concrete.
It reminded me of that show,
Life After People
. We were in an open field, I thought. That is until we kept walking. We were no doubt walking through the woods. I was walking to my death. This was it. All the pain and suffering would be over before long. I felt warm and cozy and a small smile found my lips. I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid at all. I was relieved. And then both little girls giggled and ran into the meadow. No. That didn’t happen. There were no little girls. Jesus. Stop it, Mack.