Accompanying song:

 

 

 

Train, Rhode Island – June 2nd, 2013, night

 

 

Adrenaline awakens a dormant side of me, opening up the deepest parts of my brain. Sheer terror keeps my eyes open, focused on a single point that brings it all back. I don’t want to look, but I can’t ignore what I see. Memories flash by like slides on a video projector. I can see it all before me—this train and the nightmare that took place here.

I see everything.

 

 

Woodstock, Connecticut – January 29th, 2013

 

 

Their smiles are too bright, too big, too diabolical to ignore. They appear from my house, one by one, four of them in total. Dressed in expensive, bloodstained suits, their faces are filthy and they reek of death. Hands casually hang in their pockets while they walk toward me. The rattling of guns being readied for fire and the blades of knives clattering in their pockets stun me.

A tune is whistled by one of them, one that goes through marrow and bone.

“Miss Carrigan, welcome home,” one of them says.

“Hello, Lillith, I see you’ve finally returned from vacation,” another one says. “How courteous of you to accept my invitation when I called you.”

It’s the man I saw my mother with during the cocktail party; Mister Newman. The man who took her from my dad. The man who claimed her as his own after he died. He was the one who called me and told me to come home or he would harm my mother. And then he murdered her … just like that.

“Don’t come closer!” I yell, backing away together with Ashley. She looks at me, a certain fearlessness in her face that I don’t have the courage to reflect. I’m shaking vehemently, holding onto her for support.

My mother is dead and so is my bunny. And now they’re out for more.

“Who the hell are you?” I yell at Newman. “You killed her!”

“Yes, I did …” He laughs. “She has done her job perfectly. You came home, so she’s fulfilled her purpose. Now … come with us.”

“Like hell we will!” Ashley yells, and then she looks at me. “Run. Now!”

“But …” I stare at the lifeless body of my mother, unsure if I could ever leave her like this. No matter how much grief she’s given me, she didn’t deserve this … nobody does.

“C’mon, let’s go already!” Ashley pulls my hand and turns around.

We bump into a man, and before I know it, a bag slips over my head. I can’t tell who it is; all I can do is scream.

Ashley’s hand slips from mine as they tear us apart. I scream her name, afraid that I’ll lose her right here, right now. The sounds she makes tear through the night, pulling my heart apart. Not only is my mother dead, and my bunny has been ripped to shreds, but now they take my best friend, too.

“Where are you taking us?” I yell. “Let go!”

They don’t answer, which unsettles me even more. Something blunt and hard comes down on the back of my head, and I feel lightheaded, unable to move.

Suddenly, I’m flying through the air, and then I land on something hard and soft at the same time, my body making a thudding sound. Air is pushed out my lungs, and something heavy is stacked on top of me. It squirms, shoving me aside.

“Ashley?” I yell.

All I hear are moans and muffled sounds. It must be her.

Something slams shut. My heart races in my throat as I feel something move beside me, pushing against me, and then two more things slam shut. A loud humming noise tells me we’re in a car. The smell of gasoline fills my nose, the putrid smell almost making me want to puke. I don’t know how long we drive for or where we’re going. It could be hours, for all I know. My head pounds from the blunt force applied to it when they threw me in here. When Ashley is lifted off me and I’m jerked out of the car, my eyes are wide open again. I’m hauled away, pushed, shoved, dragged, forced. And then they take off the bag.

The train station.

“We’re going for a little ride,” one of the men says.

“Wait!” I yell, but they push until Ashley and I are both in the passenger car. I try to fight them, but one against three is no use. The door closes. We’re stuck here with these monstrous men.

As I look inside the car, I realize we’re alone. Completely at the mercy of these animals who killed those who were dear to me.

They shove us forward and push me into a seat right behind the door. “Miss Carrigan, sit down.” His voice is calm and strict at the same time. I do as he says to avoid angering them. If I can stop them from hurting us, then I’m one step ahead of the situation.

Except, I didn’t expect them not to tell her to sit.

Ashley.

They drag her through the car, pulling and tugging at her like wild animals prodding at prey before they butcher it. It’s hard to swallow. My instinct tells me not to let them take her, so I get up and try to run toward her. But someone grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me back, wrapping his arms all around my waist.

“There’s nowhere to go.”

“No! Get your hands off her!” I yell.

They start ripping her clothes off.

“This one’s nice and plump, just the way I like them,” one of them growls.

“The other one is too scrawny, too meek. This one packs some punch. Exciting,” another one muses, licking his lips.

Ashley punches and kicks, but they pick her up and hold her in the air while they shred her clothes to bits. In terror, I watch as they peel away layer by layer until there’s nothing left but her naked body. I cry and scream in the hands of my captor, but I can’t do anything. I’m no match for his strength.

“Are you getting this?” Newman calls to the man holding me down.

“Hold on,” he says, and then he fiddles with the camera around my neck. I wasn’t even aware it was still there. He pushes it in front of my eyes, grabs my hand, puts it on the button, and says, “Take some pictures.”

“What?” I say, shivering. “Stop … please …” My words sound more like cries as the tears spill down my cheeks and into my mouth.

“Go on …” the man who’s fondling Ashley says to me with a devilish smile on his face. “I want something good to remember this day.”

The man behind me starts pressing my finger, and I unwillingly take photos of the horrifying scene in front of me. She is smacked. Beaten. Pushed to her limit. Made to do things I would never, ever, want to look at. Except I can’t look away. I’m forced to watch and take snapshots of my friend being molested, assaulted, and used. And I can’t do anything about it. Frozen solid like a block of ice, my hands feel numb and my brain is shutting off.

“Do you like seeing your friend like this, Miss Carrigan? Enjoy the show while you can,” Newman says. “And keep snapping pictures! I’ll do worse than this if you don’t keep up.”

“Don’t try anything, Lillith … it won’t help. They’ll kill you,” the man behind me says.

“Please …” I sob. “Stop.”

“Shh…” He keeps pressing the button on the camera. “Let me take care of it.”

“Why? Why is this happening?” I mutter.

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t look,” he whispers.

I wish I could listen to what he said. I truly wish I could turn a blind eye and make it all go away. That I could ignore what is happening right in front of me. However, deep inside me I know I have to watch this, for her, Ashley, so that one day … if we escape from this hell … I can make them pay.

My teeth clatter, but I refuse to give up. I’m on the verge of collapsing, the stress too much, but I force myself to stay standing. To keep watching, no matter how horrifying it is. These pictures don’t belong to me anymore. I know they’ll take them, and so I’ll have no proof. The proof will be in my mind, so I tell myself I need to remember everything.

However, the ordeal proves too much for me.

Whenever I try to move my head away, one of the men walks over and hits me right in the face. I’m not allowed to look away, even if I try. After about five hours of witnessing assault and brutal torture, my body and mind give in.

I collapse in the arm of the man who keeps me from running, the man who is part of this clique and yet tries to help me through it. His petty slice of humanity, however small, is the sole thing I cling to as I drift away from this world.

Right then, one of them focuses his attention on me. “Fuck, she’s gone.”

“No, she’s not. I’ll be the one to decide that,” Newman growls.

He barges toward me and puts his hands on me. I scream, fighting him while he grasps my shirt and tears it apart from top to bottom. I struggle to stay standing as he pulls down my pants, too. The man behind me says, “Wait!” And he tries to stop him by grabbing my pants and jerking, but it’s to no prevail. I’m already naked. Stripped of the last shred of my humanity.

“Stop, she isn’t your target,” the man behind me yells.

“Who fucking cares, she is now.” He doesn’t stop until all my clothes are gone or ripped apart.

“Enough!” The man behind me pulls me away from his grasp and brings me to my feet, holding me close. “She’s mine!”

“What?” Newman says.

The man behind me picks me up in his arms. “You already had that one; don’t take this one, too.”

“You’re planning on using her for your―”

“Maybe I will, but that is none of your business. I will not have you sully this one, too. You got what you were after.”

“Fine,” Newman snaps, grunting, and then he walks back to Ashley. My hand drifts with him, wanting to go to her, but the man holding me in his arms repositions me so that I’m only facing him. My head pounds and I’m losing the fight to stay conscious. My eyes have already given up, closing, my breath coming out in short puffs. I’ve lost. I’ve lost everything. My friend. My family. My dignity.

All I have left is him.

My trust that he’ll bring me to safety.

I feel his steps but can’t keep up with where we’re going. Ashley’s noises fade and so do the men. It feels as though my mind has emptied, and there is nothing left. We’re out of this car. It’s strange to not hear her screams anymore and the vicious growls of the men. A cold breeze chills my body to the bone. It’s surprisingly welcome.

“Hold on, we’re almost there,” he says, but I can barely hear him.

All I feel is his warm hands around me as he walks me away from danger and into the unknown. Something beeps, I think it’s a car, and the door is opened. I’m placed on a warm couch and a blanket is draped over me. Somehow, I feel like I’ve just been saved by the devil himself. Who are these people who help the man that stole my mother away from me? Who is this man who carries me away into the night?

“W-who are you? What do you want with me?” I ask with the last bit of remaining energy I have. I’m seconds away from blacking out, but I manage to catch the next thing he says before I slip away completely.

“My name is Sebastian Brand, and I want you to forgive me.”