“I think that inside all of us…is a devil just dying to break out. Most of us, we know how to keep him penned up. We lock him away in a personal jail with bars of morality. But sometimes, he’s able to pry those bars apart, just enough to slip out. And if he’s been in there for a long time, when he does get out, he wants to make up for lost time.” – Linwood Barclay, A Noise Downstairs (2018).
They always come at night. Those echoes and footsteps that endlessly disturb me as I try to sleep in my 100-square foot room. They are stuck on my head, keeping me awake all night. It’s good I never go to work. My guardians are happy when I stay in my room most of the time, except to take my pills and eat my meals. I am one of the crazies locked here forever. They let us roam around freely once in a while and socialize with one another. They call it social day. But most of us don’t take advantage of it. We just talk to ourselves and laugh at our jokes, whatever that may be. If we misbehave, we are sent to our room immediately. And if we become more troublesome, four people will strong-arm us until a straitjacket is secured. The outside world doesn’t know how abusive this place can be.
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Once I was happy child. I loved to tell stories. My family called them fairy tales. But they knew in their hearts there were half-truths laced in my stories. I was the fourth child of five. They told me I craved attention so much, I needed to tell a lie a lot to shock them and grab their attention. That could be the truth, but still I loved them and wished they could believe me.
I told them one day at dinner time that I saw Johnny hiding in a blanket. I told him to keep still if he’s playing hide-and-seek. His jerking movement would reveal him right away. When I removed the blanket, I saw him holding a magazine with a naked woman in the front cover. He immediately shoved me and covered himself with a pillow. He screamed at me to get out. Everybody was laughing so it must be a great joke.
Another time I told them about Christine sneaking out of the house late at night. It was so dark I could only see her shadow approach what seemed to be a leafless, man-like tree trunk which was a little bit taller than her. She embraced it tightly and then I heard slurping sound of desire. Christine was flabbergasted. She was grounded for a week.
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I turned sixteen this year and my body started to have a womanly shape, not to boast, but it could make any man lost his mind in a lustful way. Every time I smiled at the boys who were hanging around the front entrance of our school, I noticed the front of their pants getting bulgier below the waistline. I once kidded one of them when I said: “Hey, Nathan, don’t hold your pee.”
Everybody in my family was excited, especially my dad. His brother from California arrived to stay with us till the duration of his allowed work vacation. They hadn’t seen each other for ten years. My dad was beyond himself with joy. He embraced his brother like a lover. And when my uncle gave him several bottles of Johnnie Walker Green and Blue labels, Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey and 12-year old Chivas Regal, my dad was speechless.
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He waited two weeks before he revealed his evil intention. He sneaked quietly into my room when all were soundly asleep. I didn’t hear him until he pinned me and covered my mouth so I could not make a noise of some kind. He worked through his uncontrolled desire in less than fifteen minutes. Before he left my room, he warned me ominously and in no uncertain terms to keep my mouth shut about what happened lest I wanted him to harm me and my family.
He came again after three days. I heard his silent footsteps immediately. I froze with fear. I saw his smirking face when he opened the door to my room. He attacked me crazily and constantly whispering in my ear how much he loved me. “You smell of fresh-cut lilies. I’m blown away. How lucky I am to have you all by myself, my sweet niece. I’m preparing you when you get a man to marry you. You will have the experience and your husband will prefer that ‘cause you’ll know the sensations that will make him happy. You have me to thank for as you realize what a passionate sex can do to your marriage. Remember, don’t say a word about this. It will be our little secret. I won’t hesitate to harm all of you, starting with your parents. You love your parents, don’t you?”
On and on it went with a lull in between for caution and safety. The same words he echoed; the same familiar footsteps he took towards my room. There’s no escaping this evil man. Even during suppertime when everybody was present to partake the sumptuous meal my mom lovingly made, his devilish laughs brought chills and scares in my entire body. I was so quiet that my family noticed. I heard dad say, “You know, Meaghan is a good storyteller. Why don’t you entertain your uncle Devin with one of your fairy tales?” I obliged.
“Once upon a time, a stranger who came from an undisclosed place knocked at the door of a happy family. He told them he was lost and looking for a place to stay. Because the father was a trusting person, the stranger was taken in wholeheartedly. The family welcomed him as if he was a long-lost relative from the United States. He made himself comfortable, gave the father gifts and entertained the rest of the family with his adventures. No one suspected his evil intentions. He hid them with charms and sweet lies. But at night, when everybody had their deepest dreams, he prowled the city to look for young girls to victimize. He scouted the victim carefully and methodically. Then he attacked at a lightning speed and bit her neck with his sharp fangs. Before the girl realized what happened, she’s weakened and paralyzed by losing too much blood. All the girls survived but in a diminished capacity. They all walked around with catatonic expression. News of the serial prowler spread in the city like wildfire. Every house was on alert, except the house where the stranger got his safe haven. They laughed and sang and ate festive meals and enjoyed each other’s company, oblivious of the evil and despicable figure in their midst.”
A day later, Uncle Devin announced that he’s being asked by his employer to cut his vacation short. He had to leave immediately and thanked all of us for his wonderful stay. My dad was a little bit surprised. He expected they would have more time to hang out together and make up the lost time. He knew they wouldn’t see each other again for a long time. But such was life!
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I never revealed how Uncle Devin raped me. I couldn’t stand to see my dad devastated and heartbroken. I’d rather keep it all inside of me than to share my suffering and sorrow with my family. I became a very reserved and quiet person who no longer had the youthful appetite for stories. I stayed in my room most of the time, sad and depressed. Joy and happiness left me. I sometimes avoided going to school and neglected my studies. My family was so concerned about me. Everyone tried hard to talk to me. But I wasn’t listening. My mind was drifting farther and farther away. All I could think about were those nights of abusive echoes and footsteps. I wished I could erase them. Instead, they were more pronounced than ever. They took my life completely till one day when I was found curled up at one of the corners of my room, hair messy and eyes bulging in craziness. Then I was committed to the mental hospital.
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It’s social day and the television was on. The news anchor was announcing that Harvey Weinstein was found guilty of two of five felonies he was charged with, although more than 80 women alleged to have been sexually abused by him due to his being a powerful media-mogul in the entertainment industry. The allegations against Weinstein sparked the #MeToo campaign.
I jumped into a chair, both hands stretched up high and yelled at the top of my lungs: “Me, too! Me, too! Me, too!” But nobody was listening.
5 November 2020