Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Last Hope Motel: Pitch Black.

I wake up in the middle of the night, scared, crying, my nerves shattered... I can't see a thing, I find it hard to breath, I cough... I can't stop crying... It takes me a while to remember where I am as my eyes slowly adjust themselves to the darkness... I recognize the broken TV set and the paint falling from the dirty walls and I remember I'm here, lying in the bed of a forgotten motel room in the middle of nowhere... then I remember everything...

I was torn apart a night like any other, at the age of fourteen. That night I was walking down the street like I always used to. Then four men raised from the dark, unseen. They hastily took my clothes off and put a bag on my head. They pushed me and I fell on my back against the pavement, with my underwear down my ankles. They almost beat me senseless. They spread my legs and one by one let me feel their weight all over me... inside me. I couldn't scream; I didn't make a sound.

I recall everything that happened on that night, like still photographs from a sad movie, second by second playing in my mind.

So I wake up crying in the middle of the night, not knowing why. I find myself in complete darkness, so I suddenly realize the bag´s again on my head. I try hysterically to stop them, to repel them, not wanting to be hurt any more... but it´s too late... they fuck me every time they want; they come and go in and out of my soul every time they want.
Sometimes I smell their foul breath intoxicating the air. It might happen in the middle of a sunny day, and I know it´s absurd, but the smell just won´t leave me... so I start crying in panic, fearing they´re behind me, again, waiting for me to turn back and start it all over from the beginning... It doesn't matter, they don´t need me to turn around, not even touch me, to fuck me.

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