one of them.
“How many times do I have to tell you that real men don’t fucking cry! You will grow up to be just like me. Just like your father—that I can promise you!”
I didn’t want to grow up and be like him. I didn’t want to be anything like the man behind me. He was evil. I hated him, and in that moment, at ten years old, I learned the true meaning of the word.
“DO IT! NOW!”
I closed my eyes, praying that it would all go away. I silently prayed to God that he wouldn’t make me do this. That he would stop time or that this was just a bad dream. That it wasn’t real. But when I turned to face her, and he ordered me to open my eyes and hit her, I learned in that second, in that moment, that there was no God, or if there was, that he didn’t listen or care about my mother and me.
If he did … what followed next would have never happened.
“When you aim a cat o’ nine tails at someone, you make damn sure that you make them bleed. Do you understand, Donovan?”
My mama’s face would forever haunt my dreams. She didn’t look sad or terrified … nothing of what I imagined she would. Not that I thought about this ever, but sometimes in my dreams, I’d see her in front of me, saying goodbye. The expression on her face was always devastated; she didn’t want to leave.
Though here, she looked relieved as if I were setting her free.
Letting her go.
I didn’t want her to leave… What would happen to me if she were gone?
“No, Sir!” I screamed, not caring about the repercussions. “Please don’t make me do this, please, Sir, please,” I mercifully pleaded.
“DO. IT!”
“Please, Master, please don’t make him do this… Have mercy… God … please don’t do this…” She came out of the daze she was in seconds before.
But he didn’t wait any longer, and the first slap fell across her back. My hand was pinned beneath his, and even though I wasn’t the one inflicting the pain, I still felt it in every inch of my body.
He didn’t stop.
He never stopped.
He made me hit her until she wasn’t moving.
Until she wasn’t breathing.
Until all I could see…
Was her bloody and lifeless body.
I was crying, petrified, knowing nothing would be the same after this.
I knew that like I knew his name, Sir.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I’m so sorry,” I openly bawled, barely containing my shaking body and voice as I tried to move her.
The next thing I knew, he backhanded me across the face so hard that I flew across the room. I hit the floor with a thud and immediately hurt all over.
My head was throbbing, and the room was spinning.
It was only just the beginning.
I wanted her arms around me.
Her comfort.
Her warmth.
Her love.
He crudely grabbed my chin, making me look into his dark eyes. “Look what you did, Donovan. You finally proved your worth!”
It didn’t matter how many times I had this nightmare play out from my memory; I will never forget what he said next.
It was what made me who I am today.
In my harsh reality, he made me look into his devious glare.
“You’re going to be just like me, and one day, you’re going to thank me for it.”
“NOOOO!” I screamed, gasping for air, sitting straight up in bed.
I was sweating profusely, my mind disoriented, and my bed soaked beneath me. I couldn’t tell the difference between my dream and reality. I was shaking all over, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Are you okay?”
My gaze locked with Juliet’s. I must have passed out in her bed with her in my arms.
“What happened?” she whispered, her lips trembling. Reminding me of my mother. “What happened to you? Who is Sir?”
My eyes widened. “My, my, pet. What big ears you have.”
“You were screaming.”
I was right back in that room with him. It didn’t matter that Juliet was in front of me; all I could see.
Hear.
Feel.
Was him.
“Please tell me your name?”
There was something about the way she requested that broke me out of the trancelike state, but I couldn’t confess my sins.
At least not right now.
Juliet
I could see the shift in his stare.
I was playing with fire, and that didn’t for one second stop me from wanting to know the truth about him. Especially his name.
“Please don’t make me do this, please, Sir, please.”
His terrified tone reminded me so much of my own.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I’m