Little Demon in the Details

by Nordika Night

“Stand up as Mercer and I’ll fuck you, baby.” Incentive. Strength. Trust, because I know his promise has merit. Blake will wait in this room with me even if it takes me three days to stand on my own, and no matter how tired, hungry, and drained he is, he’ll fuck me because he told me he would. Blake has never lied to me. When I lift my left foot and plant it on the floor, my chest cracks open with memories of being pushed down. All the times I cowered on the floor because my parents didn’t want me to be seen. All the men I let degrade me because I thought it’d build a tolerance to disrespect and, sooner or later, I’d stop letting it control me. All the pitying looks and sad eyes from my sisters, who wanted to help but never did. It hurts. When I press my hand on the carpet to push myself up, I whine, crying for the boy who gripped his blankets and hid in the dark, trying to figure out what everyone hated about him so much. As I push up, I’m reminded of all the times I’ve been pushed back down. That sudden rises have deadly falls. That words are nice even if they’re lies, and sometimes, they only hurt later when you stop believing the lie.