Reawakening old Scars

Long sleeve shirt, tattered jeans and a back pack swung over my shoulder I embark out into the chilled summer darkness through a cracked basement window. The entire house is hushed, lifeless to the night as the tenants are soundly snoozing with the dim whisper of snoring coming from the top floor. I leave the window with a slight slit and brace the screen up against it for looks and deceiving the eye of anyone who might pass by it. As I hop the four foot chain link fence and head towards the blue sedan parked across the street with its lights turned off and a trail of smoke flowing out of the openings, I feel a flash of exhilaration smash against my body. A man emerges from the vehicle and silently gestures for me to slide in, after doing so he then shoves himself into the seat next to me and squishes my figure against the jam packed backseat overfilled with strangers. I am greeted instantly by my boyfriend behind the wheel; well, the man I assume is my boyfriend considering he fucks me when he wants to, he shoots me up with the white creature and forces me into any sort of substance he can get his hands on, and he doesn’t let anyone else touch me or look at me for that matter. If they do, he takes it out on my tiny body with hits that could knock down The Rock himself. He is not the most rational person, but he is all that I have in my life. I crave his attention, I long for the words that drip out of his luscious smoke stained mouth, and most importantly I yearn for the delusion of being needed by him. He supplies the drugs as long I go out scavenging ways and money to get them and I put out for his needs, fulfilling all of his requests. My master, my love, my everything.

“Hey you, ya ready to go flying?” Josh says as he puffs on the cigarette and offers a devious smile through the rearview mirror. I glance around nervously at the other occupants of the car all gazing off expressionlessly into the black sky, eyes deterred away from me entirely, intentionally. I nod and offer a cautious smile towards Josh; without any words to say, being the obedient slave that I am to him. He accepts my wordless answer and jingles the keys in his hands. The car stirs to life as he cranks the ignition and pulls off down the street away from home.  “Let’s rock n roll boys.” And with that, we are off into the dark night.

We come to a halt outside a shady convenience store downtown crawling with homeless people and beggars of the strip. Josh turns to me and looks at my body from head to toe, scanning my entirety.

“You ready to get some goodies, so we can play?” His eyes burn into mine with intensity, he grabs my knee with his masculine hands, gripping tightly with possession. The entire car is quiet as he awaits my answer, his hand still gripping my skinny leg. “Yes of course, what do I have to do this time?” I reply, with eagerness and longing to get a taste of the white demon as it flies through my veins.

“The boys are gonna go break that truck open and you’re going to be the runner. You have to grab everything you can and rush back here. You know the deal; it’s the same shit every day. Keep your head straight and you will be rewarded. Don’t fuck this up….or you WILL be punished.” He lets out a deep sigh and withdraws his hand from me. I squirm at his removal and long for his touch back.

“Okay….I am ready.” I sound confident and controlled as I prepare to thrust myself from the sedan and towards the truck. The boys are already in position working on the lock while I am patiently waiting with Josh. He turns to me and grabs my head of hair forcing me towards his face; I cringe a little at the pain but follow his lead. He pushes his lips onto mine and then breathes words into my mouth.

“Do NOT fuck this up.” I try to respond with encouragement but he is holding my head with his constricted hold and he starts to say something else. “You are mine, only mine. Don’t make me unhappy or else….” Just then we hear the call of one of the strange men we arrived with and he drives my body towards the door screaming for me to get out and go. My legs feel like jelly but I power myself to sprint towards the truck where they are standing with the door wide open. They jog back to the sedan where Josh is sitting observing me as I climb into the truck and search for any valuables. I pick through every single pocket, compartment, and seat to find whatever I can. I know I can’t come up empty handed because who knows what part of my body will be corrupted with the hateful blows of Josh when he is angry and disappointed in me. Under the passenger seat I find a laptop and a couple of used DVD’s, I heave them into my back pack and explore the rest of the interior. I find the jack pot in the glove box where there is cold hard cash stashed, swiping it and tucking it into my jean pocket, I quickly grab small knick knacks from the dash and hastily run back to Josh to show off my findings. I climb into the Sedan and hand over the backpack to the front and slither into the back seat without saying a thing. He speeds off and hits the highway towards his trailer. When safely out of the city and descending towards his humble abode he has the guy sitting in front scan through my backpack to see what I came up with. When all is said and done and the backpack is empty he looks back at me asking why I did such an appalling job at getting decent loot. It’s not enough, and Josh is less than thrilled. I shrug and as I am about to pull out the forgotten money from my back pocket he turns off the freeway and orders for his friends occupying the backseat with me to open the door, they reluctantly do so and just as I start to process what is happening he commands them in a fuming tone to ‘Push the stupid bitch out’. The man sitting next to me mouths sorry as I scan around with hurt eyes and then chucks my petite carcass out of the moving vehicle and onto the coarse asphalt. My torso absorbs most of the blow, but my head bounces as I slide across the jagged black top. I can sense my skin being shredded off me as I develop road rash up and down my spine and limbs.  I am speechless and writhing in throbbing pain when I squint to see headlights whipping back toward me. I try to push myself up off the ground and out of the way but I can’t move, motionless and aching raging through my every limb and body part I lay in a heap in the middle of the road. The car slams on its brakes and out steps the driver with high beams shining into my weak eyes. Josh picks up my bloody, fragile, and damaged body and places me into the car, this time in the front seat right up against him. His eyes lock onto the cash that is still clinging to my jeans and he swipes it from me before I can even mutter a sentence. He then strikes my face with the back of his palm cursing me for withholding. I let out a slight whine of discomfort and he immediately grasps my head still dripping with crimson fluid into his hands; “I told you not to fuck this up.”

We finally arrive at his hole in the wall of a home, by this point my body is screaming as I attempt to act like I am fine. My ribs feel like they have splintered inside of me, my breath is superficial, my head is hammering, and my skin is still leaking blood, seeping my clothes with its oozing.  At this point I am begging for a taste of the creature to relieve me of all of the internal and external agony that is sweeping over me. Josh retires to his room momentarily and returns with all of the usual supplies for our devious habits.

“Since you scored some cash, I’ll still take you flying. Even though you are backstabbing bitch for not offering it up right away. But, you received your punishment and now baby’s gonna take away your pain. You want to go flying don’t you?” He spits at me, dangling a small white baggy in my face as I sit propped up against the wall for support. I nod impatiently with pleading eyes as he taunts me with its beauty. He squats next to me and I hold out my still bloody arm towards him, he slides my sleeve up my arm exposing past track marks from other “flying” experiences. I haven’t had my fix in over eight hours so my skin is crawling with unsteady shakes. He tightens the belt around my bicep and drives the needle into my clammy stained skin. I let out a profound euphoric moan and my structure relaxes. He removes the belt and starts to repeat the process on himself.

All of my symptoms dissolve away and I feel the room open up around me. I am climbing high above now, ignorant to the world around me. The creature is dancing through my bloodstream and my body is electrified at her presence. My attention coasts away from existence and I am off into my own realm now. Josh slips into his own oblivion beside me, giving himself into the pleasure of the creature as she too devours his troubled cranium.

 I’m safe, up high, nothing can get me.

Josh pulls me into his arms and caresses my wounds sustained, observing every single cut and marking with his fingertips lightly. “Oh baby, this is no good. I don’t like when you’re hurt. You need to listen better.” He whispers into my hair. The strangers we arrived with are off in various parts of the apartment lost into their own highs. Josh scoops me up and carries me to his bedroom where he proceeds to undress my tarnished clothing and drape my now nude and exposed body across the bed. He starts by kissing all of my wounds, my hero coming to my rescue. He then powerfully thrusts himself inside of me and begins his next rampage of discipline while I lay numb to his hateful crime. He eventually finishes and orders me to clean myself up in the bathroom while I am stumbling to hold upright. Upon doing so, he takes me into his arms once more and holds me close all the while whispering everything I need to hear to make it all alright again. And as always, it is….it’s alright….everything is O K A Y.

The sun crawls through the satin curtains dancing little rays of blond wash over my pale unrisen face as I come to from a bottomless coma. I peek out under my dense eyelids as I take in the surroundings of my frail and sprawled out body. My head lifts only a little from a vomit and crimson saturated pillow and I immediately feel nauseous. As I hoist myself up off the soiled bed which reeks of the nights prior endeavor’s and use my shaky hands to steady my spins, I squint around my disastrous bedroom. The floor is submerged in various pieces of clothing, my dresser drawers open with pools of objects spilling out of them, and my window is still faintly exposed from where I must have snuck back in early this morning. I rub my eyes and slap my cheeks with my hands as I try to free myself of the daze I seem to be stuck in. Again, withdrawals are setting in and my body can’t seem to operate, I have a gut pitted need for a quick fix. A faint voice comes calling from another room in the house, “Time to get your ass in gear, you’re going to be late for school!” I recognize it as my mother’s charming early-morning banter. I rise to my feet and maybe a little soon; I feel the wave of nausea really kick in as I wobble to and fro on my heels, struggling to stay upright. Using one of my bed posts to stable myself, I shrug off the feeling and start grabbing pieces of clothing from off my bedroom floor. I throw on something quick and casual but enough to disguise the injuries that still ache all over my skin and head for the bathroom to look myself over. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I read 7:00, which meant that I only sleep for an hour. That’s about the average time these days with the white creature running my life and Josh dictating when and where things will happen. I place my hands underneath the cold water of the faucet and splash my face erasing any dried blood and reminisces of last night; I run my fingers through my hair a couple of times and then return to my bedroom to grab my backpack.

It’s time to play the part, an actor to the outside world, hidden and tucked away from any feeling or meaning in life.  Time to put on a show; give em what they want, keep lying to them, including myself.

This went on for months, every single day I was using, entering a life of crime and addiction, and every single day I was being abused by someone who I thought loved me. I can’t exactly pin point when I misplaced myself, my sense of being, but at some point I became someone I no longer recognized.  The girl staring back at me in the mirror was a complete stranger. As my body thinned out and became malnourished, as my arms and feet were poked and defiled by so many needles which caused tracks of wear and tear, as my bones and flesh were being ripped and used as punching bags, and as my entire soul was being damned and taken over by dependence to these unstoppable habits I became a unknown person of no substantial place in this world. I was lost.

You wear a mask for so long you forget who you were underneath it. It wasn’t just this particular man who had broken me; I had many boyfriends/friends/family members who I let use me in some way or another. Emotional abuse, mental abuse, physical, sexual, you name it. I was a walking lifetime channel series, a poster child for therapists and addiction. I allowed these things to happen to me for years even after my rehabilitation at various different treatment centers, even after I cleaned up and rid myself of substance abuse. This was something I have dealt with my entire life.

On August 22^nd 2007 I rid myself of the drugs and continued on other paths of self-destruction and different kinds of compulsion. May 16^th 2012 I finally got an epiphany; I woke up from this dating nightmare and rebuilt my confidence. I remember the exact day because it’s when I broke up with my last ‘Josh’. I was in the desert for a training exercise with the military and headed towards a deployment to Afghanistan in the coming months. The moment I had liberated myself of this rotten man, I was a brand new person.  I took on this promise to myself to never ever again be with another Josh. Guess what? I never was. I decided I needed to let someone meet my standards instead of me lowering mine to meet theirs, I found my worth within. I have been in the same relationship for close to two years now, and I finally wised up and did well this time.  I still stumble occasionally with friends along the way, but I immediately weed out those who don’t make the cut and don’t treat me right. I found the courage to stand up for myself and to never let anyone walk all over me again. I was a fool to open up my heart to all that jealousy, that bitterness, that ridicule over the years. I try to be the best person that I can be now in hopes of rectifying who I was and what I have done in the past. I want to make better in my latter life for all of the things that I went through and inflicted in my earlier years.

When I think back on some of these memories, I am not disgusted on the actions that took place, I am curious. I am constantly trying to put together this giant puzzle of my life and figure out the reason behind everything. I want to have a better understanding, so I am uncovering all these secrets and poisons that consumed me in order to piece together who I really am. I am sick of being a prisoner of my past; I want to be an architect of my future. Part of that is locating these wounds internally and finally letting them heal like they were supposed to. I am not going to let my life waste away trying to get back what was taken away from me, I am just going to become at peace with what was and never will be again.

Bruised skin and blood stained shirt

Everything always hurts

Unmerciful fists, painful blows

Hiding all the marks, so they never show

Scars deeper than skin,

Why do I let these demons in?

Fractures of the mind, lost in thought

What if we get caught?

Damned soul, I think my body’s shot

Just one more time, maybe it’s not

Falling down, probably too deep

But fuck it, what’s life without taking a leap?

One moment I’m flying, soaring high above

Who cares, I never even needed your love.

And now I’m falling, deeper than planned

It’s time for the real me to take a stand.