Locke

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My voice cut out, dropping to nothing. A man was standing at the edge of my bed, holding a knife. His hand shook, swaying the sharp silver blade side to side. Except he wasn't shaking with fear, his hand moved with excitement.

“Don't move, you understand me, little girl?”

Glancing over his shoulder, my sister was still on her bed, nodding at me to agree. Shaking my head yes, he stepped back. “Good.” Reaching into the back of his pants, he pulled out a handful of wire ties. “Give me your hands.”

The plastic clicked like death against my skin, sealing my arms together and binding my ankles. Slamming a heavy hand into the top of my shoulder, he pushed me down to the floor.

“Stay right here, don't do a fucking thing, and this will all be over soon.”

I could hear the soft whimpers of Vanessa as she cried into her chest. She wouldn't look up, she just kept sobbing.

The man held a finger to his lips as he gently opened our door and disappeared into the house. I couldn't hear his feet, I couldn't hear which way he went, and it scared the hell out of me.

“Vanessa,” I whispered, doing my best to keep my voice a mere flutter in the air.

Her head lifted up, face red and streaked in fresh tears. Sniffling, the water flowed down over her cheeks in waves.

“What do we do?” I asked, as my chest hurt and the air between us grew thick. “We need to do something.”

Shaking her head no, her eyes grew wide with fear. “Do what he says, Locke. That's it, that's what we do.”

I didn't like her answer, but I trusted her. It wasn't like I was jumping with ideas or had any other option laying itself at my feet.

We were just kids. . . And deep down I knew, we wouldn't be the same kids any longer.

He seemed to be gone forever, but I was sure it was probably only minutes. During something like that, time turns into a slow drip, peeling away in thin layers. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes seem like hours, and the fear doesn't change.

It grows, it renders you helpless and paralyzed inside yourself.

I saw his foot first as he crossed the threshold back into our room. “Your mom is scared, I didn't hurt her, but don't make me do something I don't want to.” Stalking forward, the blade appeared again, shining like a piece of jewelry he wore proudly.

His tongue slithered across his lips as he made a loud slurping sound. “You,” he said, pointing the weapon at my sister. “You've been teasing me for days now, I can't take it anymore.”

Days?

What the hell does he mean days?

His feet moved lightly over the carpet, eyes staying firmly on Vanessa. I wanted to ask him what he wanted, I wanted to tell him to take whatever the hell he could and just go.

Only I didn't. I stayed silent, just watching this monster as he moved around our room like he knew it inside and out.

“I have a diamond necklace in my jewelry box, you can take it, it's yours.” Vanessa's voice hiccuped as she spoke, trying to stay calm and relaxed.

“Honey, I'm taking something tonight, but it's not your necklace.” Laughing softly, his tone morphed into a deep growl. “I'm taking what you've been flaunting every time I sat outside your window.”

He's been watching us?

When? For how long?

The thought made me shiver, it made my skin crawl like ants were marching over my flesh in droves. We weren't always alone in our room, our safe haven wasn't safe.

He had been watching us.

And deep inside I knew I had felt him there. I hadn't seen anyone out there when I looked, I never caught a fleeting shape or black flash in the darkness. I kept telling myself it was just my imagination, that there was nothing outside.

But I felt him.

Looming over my sister, he slid his knife up and down her neck, forcing her to arch her head up. “You should tell your sister to close her eyes now, I don't think she'll want to see this.”

Her skin split as he pressed the knife in place, blood trickling down her throat as a smile emerged on his face. “Tell her, Vanessa, tell her to close her eyes.” Slicing his knife down her cheek, she let out a weak cry as more blood coated her skin.

Vanessa looked between the man and me, droplets of tears suspended on her lashes like fresh rain drops, waiting for her to move so they could break free. Our eyes connected, hers pleading with me to listen, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

She was doing her best to be strong, to not show me the intense fear and panic that she was feeling on the inside. I was proud of her for trying to protect me from what she knew was about to happen.

I wanted so desperately to say thank you, to tell her I was grateful for how strong she was being. I wanted to tell her to hide inside herself so she wouldn't have to be there in the moment.

I wanted to tell her I loved her. I didn't.

I did what she asked, I sealed my lids shut, her face still readily visible in the darkness of my mind.

Not seeing did nothing to help. I heard her cries, I heard her soft whimpers and muffled screams.

That man, that creature from hell, was raping my sister.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I had never felt so powerless.