“You’re right. We will do that on my next day off. I love you. I’m going to try to get some more sleep before I go into the OR later.”
“Of course. Oh, where is Eric? I brought him a piece of that molten lava cake he loves so much. I wanted to give him a treat for getting such a good grade on his test. A B, Douglas! He is so smart.”
I silently weep into the pillow as I hear my mother’s love, happiness, support, and belief in me. I’m here. I’m right here, Mom. Your husband is a monster. Help me!
I can’t find the strength to say the words. I’m growing too tired.
“I think he went on a quick bike ride. He’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” she says happily, and I hear a quick smack of lips. She’d hate herself if she knew the monster she shared herself with.
My dad closes the door, then locks it after he hears Mom’s footsteps get far enough away. “Stupid, gullible bitch. The woman is so annoying.” He sighs, scratching his head. “If it wasn’t for that hot piece of ass secretary I have, I don’t know what the hell I’d do for sex. You mom is a fucking drag.” He saunters over and eyes my bleeding ass and smirks. “Maybe since you like to be on bottom so much, I’ll just take what you freely give to others too.” He undoes his belt, and my eyes widen in fear. I pull against the straps and try to get free.
There’s no way he’ll do that to me. It goes against everything he believes in.
I won’t be able to survive this.
The door crashes against the wall, and a piece of wood flies through the air, hitting Dad in the face.
A cock of the gun sounds, and Mom steps over the ruins of the door. “You get your filthy fucking hands away from my son, you sick, twisted bastard. I fucking knew it. I knew it!” she chokes. Her eyes fall to me, and her lips part in horror, but the gun remains steady. “I had to catch you. I needed proof, and I have it. I have it!”
Dad lifts his hands and shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Rachel. He’s a horrible boy. He has to be punished.”
“He’s my son!” she screams and pulls the trigger. The gunshot isn’t loud like I expect. It’s quiet. That’s when I see a silencer on the barrel. Dad stumbles back and presses his hand against his shoulder. He’s dumbfounded.
His hand shakes as he brings it up from the hole dripping blood, and he stares at his fingers, rubbing them together. “You shot me,” he states with wide eyes.
“I’m going to do more than just shoot you for laying one hand on Eric. I trusted you. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew it. I felt it. My gut told me something was wrong, for years, but I ignored it because part of me couldn’t believe that you’d do this to him.” She cries as she stares at the massacre on my back. “How long?” she asks me. “How long has he done this to you?”
“Eric…” Dad’s voice deepens, threatening me not to say anything else.
“Shut up! Don’t you fucking talk to him. You don’t get to talk to him ever again; do you hear me?”
“How long, Eric?”
“Seven years,” I wheeze, barely able to keep my eyes open.
“Seven—” She clasps her hand over her mouth and aims the gun at Dad again. “Seven years you’ve abused him? Our son? What is wrong with you? Seven—” She pulls the trigger, and it pierces his other shoulder. Then, she aims the barrel at his knee.
Again, at his other knee.
Dad cries out and crashes to the ground, both his knees shot out. “Stop, Rachel. Stop. Let me explain. I’ll…”
“You think I give a damn about what you have to say? No reason, explanation, or excuse can calm me down. There’s no reason for this abuse! Look at him!” She shoves the gun in his face.
But he doesn’t.
“I said look at him!” She pushes the gun against his head, and his eyes meet mine.
He gives me a once-over, and a smirk tips his lips. He’s satisfied with what he did to me. “And he’s still as pathetic as he was before I dug my scalpel into his skin.”
Mom presses her foot against his back and shoves him to the floor. “And you know what?” She grips his wrist and aligns