Shallow River

by H.D. Carlton

I promised myself I’d never go back to those days, where spoiling myself and going days on end without food was my way of life. La de da, here I am once again.

“You also turned down a rape kit. And you know what that tells me, River?” He doesn’t give me time to answer. “It tells me you fucked someone and don’t want to get caught.”

I hardly recognize the man in front of me anymore. I don’t think I’ve recognized him in a long time. Or maybe he’s finally taking off his mask and revealing who he truly is. Who he has been hiding this whole time.

Shame fills me. I don’t have a job, and he does completely support me. I never asked him to. He demanded I leave my job so I could focus on school, and I was so wooed by someone actually taking care of me for once that I acquiesced.

“I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.

“I only found out yesterday. I didn’t get the chance to tell you because I’ve been working my ass off, something you wouldn’t know about,”

Working my ass off was my entire life since I was old enough to have a job—but alas, Ryan always has temporary memory loss when shoving my jobless state in my face. Something he demanded of me.

Finally, she tried to explain it to me. The fear that grips you when you think about turning him in. How many times he threatened to kill her, and then would nearly follow through. Not for one second did Ryan make it seem like an idle threat. And then the brainwashing. He would convince her that it’s her fault he treats her like that. As if she actually fucking deserved it. Gaslight her and make her feel crazy and dramatic. He would dehumanize her, strip away her identity and make her feel like no one else could love her except for him. That he’s doing her a service by loving her when no one else possibly could.

“Keep it up, River. You won’t be able to moan the wrong name when your mouth is full of my cock,” I threaten on a low growl.

“You’ll never fucking have me, Mako. You’ll never get to lay a finger on me.”

“Are you willing to promise me that? Because I will make a liar out of you, baby girl,”

“Like I’d ever moan for you.”

“That’s what you’ve been doing this entire time. Don’t pretend like you’re not imagining my cock buried deep inside you.”

“You wanted to play. Now try again,” I demand, ...

“What’s wrong, River? Not so brave now, are you? You like to hide from your truths. You’d rather lie to us both and pretend you love that piece of shit rather than admit you want someone better. You think Ryan could take care of you the way I could, huh? You think he makes you feel like a queen when really he treats you like a fucking peasant.”

The only regret I have is that she’s grinding against her hand when it should be my tongue. Even as I come down slowly, my entire body goes limp and buzzes from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I want to lick her pussy until my tongue falls off. Her own breathing is erratic. And she won’t meet my eyes. She’s sitting straight now, staring at the floor, her chest still heaving and her tiny fists clenched. I’ve no idea what’s going through her head right now, and I’m too much of a chicken shit to ask. She slides off the shelf daintily, slides her jeans on, and shoves her feet into her Converse, the heels of her feet sticking out. I button jeans up, steeling myself against whatever is going to come out of her mouth. Her gold eyes slowly lift to meet mine. Something invisible but potent transfers between us. I don’t know what it is. I don't know what it means. But I want more of it. Without a word, she turns away and walks out of the building. She’ll be back. As much as she wants to deny it, she’s as addicted to me as I am to her.

It’s not just mental abuse, it’s mental warfare and can be more dangerous than a raised hand.

The gaslighting and manipulation are what convinces victims to stay and endure.

They train you to protect yourself, ultimately changing every part of you until you no longer recognize yourself. You’re a prisoner in your own home. There are limitations on where you can go, how long you stay out, who you’re allowed to see, and god forbid you hang out with anyone without their supervision. Too scared to look nice in fear of accusations of cheating. But you’re going to leave the house looking like that? God, you’re embarras...

That’s what everyone always says, right? I’d never let a man hit me. You don’t even realize that’s what has happened until it’s too late.

And you’ve already told yourself he won’t ever do it again. That he’s sorry. He’s stressed. You were wrong. Bad, bad girl. Feel guilty for making him lay hands on you. You deserved that. Leave? He’ll kill himself. No one will ever love you the way he does, and you love him, too. You don’t want him to die.

He’s not small, a little above average. Before, I saw it as something I didn’t mind worshipping. Now, I want to wrap my mouth around it and bite until it’s detached from his body.

And I can’t wait to show you exactly what your love has turned me into.

“I have to play this smart,”

Fuck, what’s the goddamn point in even being alive? Maybe I should kill myself. I tip my head back and smile. The thought doesn’t sound so bad. On the contrary, it sounds quite alluring, just like the siren’s voice leading sailors down to their death. I could be that sailor, willingly handing over my life. Fading into blissful silence, nothing but darkness surrounding me. Not the same kind of darkness that’s been my shadow my entire life, but just… nothingness.

I’m stained. I’m also other things too. Broken. Scarred. Traumatized. Strong. Fierce. Vengeful…

Connecting with someone romantically while murdering my abusive boyfriend doesn’t sit right with me. Messes with my inner peace.