Jessie gets her drink, she always get her drink. A drink I was sure she doesn’t drink. I mean it smells foul and I’m barely fed.
Domino is expected at night and he calls ahead with instructions for me. Instructions that lead to pain. The kind of pain that makes me wish I can’t feel anything at all, not physical, not mental, not emotional.
I come to the point where his violation of me is no longer my main concern. It is the aching, the agony, the anguish, the torture that follows that is worse than the violation itself.
There is one way to get through the night. It’s what I do almost every session. I bury my thoughts deep in mind and choose one song and play it over and over in my mind trying desperately to disconnect whatever my body feels from where my mind is.
As the days and nights merge, I think about what Two said. How Domino forces people into things and makes them hide their feelings. By now, I have grown accustomed to the rituals he requests, well most of them, Domino likes to spice things up. I have learned how to control the only thing I can, me. I learned to control me so that I can survive.
I will never get used to the agony of being Domino’s companion. Every time he grabs me, I jump out of my skin. Every time he attempts to be gentle, I gag internally. Every time he rapes me, I die. I hide it from everyone because that is the only thing I can control. In this crapfest of a situation, control is such a simple but a vital thing for my mental stability. I need to control what I can because of the abundance of the things that I can’t.
Will I ever become numb to the torment? Such a strange concept, to wish to just be numb. If I never make it out alive, how long will I be able to live feeling this way. Numbness is a mercy.
What if I’m not different from the other companions, what if I expire, here, dirty and alone? So if I am never leaving, will I ever not be in so much pain?
Am I really accepting that I won’t escape, is this really what I’m thinking of? It’s reality, why fight it? I have earned things that don’t make me hate my life, not every day at least. I have my walks.
No! I am not doing this. Domino does not win, not like this. He has forcibly taken my body, he has taken my ability to do speak, think, do; he will not take my sense of freedom.
It’s ok, this is just a moment of grief. One moment out of a million. Feel it, then let it go. I am not staying here forever.
Ten months… I missed Joey’s birthday. I have been gone for so long no one thinks I’m alive. He probably has a step-mother who holds him, tickles him, cuddles him, comforts him. She probably sings him to sleep and plays with him.
But, what if she isn’t kind? What if Joey isn’t alright without me? What if he is suffering, what if he thinks I abandoned him, abandoned him like my father did to me?