IN THE FLAT
As soon as I entered the lounge of the now all too familiar
flat, I knew something bad was about to happen. My body felt like it was
wrapped in invisible chains, and I smelt fear. my own fear. It was as though
the atmosphere pulsated with such intensity that it grabbed me, shaking my
flimsy little body, flaying my limbs in all directions, like some pathetic rag
doll.
God, I was so terribly scared.
Ropeman left me alone while he went to the kitchen to sort
out our drinks. The sight of the beer made me shudder, and the muscles that
didn't tighten, twitched instead.
A dark and gloomy, musty smell,
A place no warmer than a prison cell,
Strange thoughts enter into your head,
You now start wishing you were tucked up in bed.
A frightening chill shoots through the air,
All you do is stand and stare,
It’s a place with an eerie feeling,
Your heart by now is really speeding.
Sepulchre,
Sepulchre,
What a place,
Your heart is beating a rapid pace.
That awful chill is slowly rising,
All you think of is surviving,
But as you try to run and leave,
You can’t help thinking your eyes deceive,
Lurking in that gloomy doorway,
Is something that’s come out of doomsday,
You try to move, but are stuck to the spot,
You try to scream but breathing…, you’re not.
Sepulchre,
Sepulchre,
What a place,
It’s now your home.
To my relief, after handing me a beer, Ropeman slid the
video cassette into the player, and we settled down to watch the film I was far
too young to see. I tried to
concentrate, but I was conscious of his every move; my muscles tightening at
the slightest twitch. It was an exceptionally good summer, so when
he asked if I was hot, I replied with a simple yes,
pretending to be engrossed in the film. But I knew in fact, every cell in my
naïve young body sensed danger. And when
he suggested I might be more comfortable if I removed my top, the fear
enveloped me to the point of numbness, and before I knew it, there I was,
stripped to the waist again.
It wasn’t long before the second stage of his sick plan was
being put into action. “Shall we stretch out a bit? After all, there’s plenty
of room,” he said. I felt like a rat
caught in a trap, knowing there was no way out; no one was going to be knocking
at the door and saving me.
“Is it ok if I use the toilet?” I asked the question merely
as an escape, something that would give me a bit more time, however limited it
might be before the inevitable happened. Ropeman stopped the tape and directed
me to the bathroom.
On returning to the lounge, I noticed that he’d removed his
top. He was sprawled across the whole of
the sofa, smiling, beckoning me to join him.
What choice did I have?
With a great deal of apprehension, which I’m convinced he
was aware of, I did as I was asked.
After awkwardly positioning myself into place, he began cuddling me from
behind, pulling me closer before stroking my chest. Within seconds I felt his
arousal in the small of my back. Without
success I tried to ignore the feel of his sweaty fingers by losing myself in
the movie.
Try as I might . . . and I did try, going so far as
to close my eyes and picturing myself saying the words, but
somehow I couldn't summon the courage to tell him to stop.
My silence was deafening, and the sound of his erratic
breathing all but consumed me, before I fell away.
You touched me,
Held me,
And stroked my chest,
Told me that you,
My teacher knew best.
I felt your hardness,
In the small of my back,
I had a chill in my spine,
When you said I’d be fine.
“I’ve always felt sorry for you, what with you being adopted
and everything.”
“It really is a pleasure to teach you”
“You’ve had a hard start to your life haven’t you?”
“Try to relax a bit more, you feel so tense. I won’t bite.”
These were some of
the things he was saying as he fondled me.
I didn't respond. Instead, I closed my eyes and waited for the nightmare
to end, ironically finding solace in the chaotic sounds blasting from the
television.
After what seemed a lifetime, the movie finally came to an
end. I eventually found the courage to say that I wanted to go home. To my
astonishment my molester agreed, but he made me drink some strong coffee first.
An hour later I was in the safety of my bedroom, alone and
isolated, but safe, unaware of the horrors that were waiting for me in the not
too distant future.
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