“Here kitty, kitty…” He heard the drunken screech in the darkness. “Where’s my pussy at? Here kitty, kitty…”
Ian sat up in the darkness. His heart tried to beat out of his chest. He had to run. The stumbling footsteps were getting closer and closer. He closed his eyes and prayed that Uncle Nate would be so drunk he could fight him off this time.
Quietly as he could he stood and slipped out of his bed. The regular beatings had stopped. They had come out and told Uncle Nate if they saw one more black eye or if he had one more broken bone they’d take him away. Nate beat him one more time for good measure and then it seemed to stop.
If he could just hold out until he was sixteen, just a couple more years. He could drive then, and maybe he could just drive off somewhere and make it stop for good.
“Here kitty, kitty….”
Ian shook his head. The regular beatings had stopped, but another kind of torture had taken its place about a year ago.
He leaned over and reached for the door. It was too late, the door was slammed open wide.
“There’s my kitty kitty.” Uncle Nate stood there, bottle in one hand, blocking his escape with the other.
“No, Uncle Nate.” He said firmly. “You just let me walk on outta here.”
Nate just grinned and dropped the empty bottle to the floor. Ian watched it roll on the uneven rotting floor towards him.
“I’ll hurt cha.” Ian put out his hands in defense. “I swear I’ll hurt cha.”
The drunk lunged forward and Ian threw a punch. He connected with his Uncle’s jaw. His head shot backwards.
“I like it when my pussy fights back.” The man growled in that deep smutty voice. Before Ian could run, Nate kicked him in the gut with his heel.
Ian doubled over in pain, the worse thing he could do. He felt Nate grab him by the hair and slam his face into his crotch.
He rubbed Ian’s face hard up and down his hardness. Ian knew he was going to puke, but he also knew that wouldn’t stop him. Ian tried to lunge forward with his next breath, but he felt Nate sweep his foot and Ian’s feet fell out from under him.
“Uncle Nate, NO!” He fought and yelled as he felt the momentum of his body working against him. One arm was pinned under his body and Nate was on top of him. Ian clawed with his free hand, balling up his fist and flailing the man as hard as he could.
Ian felt is underwear being ripped. “God no…please…Uncle Nate…please don’t…” He begged feeling the rip of pain as Uncle Nate forced himself in.
He kept beating the best he could with his fist. The more he struggled the better his Uncle was able to force his legs farther apart. Ian cried out in pain, giving up the struggle just willing it to be over with.
He unballed his fist and let drop limply to the ground. Uncle Nate grunted as Ian’s knuckles pinged on the glass surface. Ian felt for the neck of the liquor bottle. Once he felt it tightly in his hands he stopped struggling all together and submitted.
“Mmmmm…kitty’s ready to play.” He heard Uncle Nate growl. The drunkard thrust deeper and then pulled out to flip him over.
Ian tried to use the quick shift in his weight to roll out from under his Uncle. He was drunk out of his mind, but the man was strong and quick. He flipped Ian over and pinned his legs over his head. Ian felt the rough penetration, and screamed in pain. He took a deep breath and swung the bottle.
It connected with Nate’s head and burst into pieces. Nate stopped a moment, just a moment and gritted his teeth. Ian turned his face to look into his uncle’s eyes. Blood was running down his head, a stream curving around his grinning lips. Ian felt the bed start to squeak again. He felt the violation continue, harder, more violent.
The bloody face pulled in so close, he almost had to cross his eyes to focus on it. Ian had to focus on something other than the pain. His face was so close all he could see was the bubbles of blood.
When they popped they said “Darla Hutton”.
Ian opened his eyes and screamed. He sat up in bed. Pain shot all through his body and he screamed again.
There were people all around him. He didn’t know who they were or where he was. He wanted to go home. He could see them rushing around. He could see their mouths move but he couldn’t hear them.
A woman came and put her arms around him. She made him feel safe. “It’s okay Baby Doll...” she cooed. “Everything’s just fine…”
Ian looked at her. He knew her. There was a man in a bed next to him. He was sitting on the edge of it, his arm in a sling. “It’s okay buddy. You’re fine. Just lay back down. Let us take care of you….”
Ian shook his head. He knew him, too…
And the little boy, there was a little boy with her eyes looking back at him in both relief and fear. “Papa? Papa it’s okay…”
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay. Why did he hurt so bad? Why hadn’t Venus finished with his forehead...and who the hell was Darla Hutton?
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