Now on with the story . . .

By Verity

Taking a deep breath I carefully replaced the phone in its cradle. Suddenly my stupor was broken as the familiar rush of fear and adrenaline pumped through me. In a burst of movement I quickly gathered up my coat and keys and ran to my car, revving the engine before speeding off in the direction of where I was needed. As I sped down the eerily deserted streets the moonlight bathed my face in a wash of shadows, highlighting the tears that I could no longer hold onto. I went over the phone conversation in my head, futilely trying to find some hidden meaning that had escaped my detection–something to tell me that what I had just heard was a lie.

vvv

vvv

As I stood in front of the entryway to the ER I was suddenly reminded that I had no idea where to go. Having hung up so quickly in my haste to get to Kiely I’d forgotten to find out where she was. I was not ever sure she was in the Emergency Room. The chaotic undertone that seemed to be present in all hospitals surrounded me, making me feel even more lost than before.

"Hey! Watch it lady!"

I turned at the harsh voice and swiftly moved to the side to allow the stretcher past. I looked into the eyes of the child strapped to the bed as he was rolled by me, feeling his fear as acutely as my own. My chest began to ache and for a moment I feared that I was having a heart attack. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing and the rapid beat of my heart. I would be no help to Kiely if I were panicking.

Slowly I felt my body begin to relax and I opened my eyes to see the slightly dirty glass of the mechanical doors ahead of me. I gathered up my courage and walked towards the doors; this wasn’t about me. This was about the beautiful woman lying in there in pain, calling for me. I walked up to the glass enclosed registration desk, idly wondering what is was with hospitals and glass.

"I’m looking for Kiely Ambrasio."

The woman didn’t even look up from her computer screen as she spoke. "Are you family?"

The truth, or not the truth, that is the question. I had watched enough television to know when to lie. Nothing was going to stop me from seeing my wife. "Yes, I’m her sister."

I see the movement of her fingers atop the keyboard. "She’s in the trauma section. Go straight through those doors on your left and make a right. Just follow the signs for the trauma ER, you can’t miss it."

I momentarily tense as I see a nurse heading towards me. I guess I must stand out amidst the backdrop of latex gloves, scrubs, and the sickly sweet smell of betadine. As she comes to a stop in front of me the words are out of my mouth before she can utter a sound.

"Where’s Kiely Ambrasio?"

She looks at me strangely for a second, probably because I walked out of the house in my Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup pajamas, fluffy purple slippers, and a motorcycle jacket. And all of a sudden I realize I must look like a dork, or a crazy person. But none of that is important. All that matters is that she has just told me to follow her; she is taking me to Kiely.

She takes me past numerous curtained off sections until we get to trauma room one. I’m not sure if the fact that she has her own room as opposed to a little stretcher is making me feel more calm or scared. All I know is that my hands are trembling and my heart has taken up residence in my throat. Way to go with the no panicking. I try to steady myself as she opens the door and stands to the side to let me pass. My eyes are focused on the floor as I move past her into the room. I don’t look up even as I here the door shut softly behind me. I still do not look up even as I hear her voice–my angel, my best friend, my wife, my Kiely.

"Hey, Peanut."

Peanut. I feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes from just that word alone. She has called me, Peanut, since she was four years old and saw my near obsession with the little nut, but in all that time it has never sounded so . . . desperate.

"Please, look at me."

My courage has left me and I shake my head no, closing my eyes against the tears scared to raise my head for fear of what I will see.

"Please."

She sounds so small, so innocent, that I can’t deny her this any longer. I raise my head to look at her, stifling a gasp at the sight of her. She is a bloody mass of cuts, bruises, scrapes, and gashes. Her left eye is swollen shut and I can barely see any recognizable feature through the plethora of contusions that mar her face. Her right arm is definitely broken and she has a series of jagged cuts up and down the sides of her left arm. As I see the blood stains on the sheets that cover the rest of her from my sight I can no longer hold back a sob.

I rush to the side of the bed wanting to hold some part of her but not wanting to cause her any more pain. "Oh, Kiely . . ." But what strikes me the most as I look at he mottled face is her lack of a smile. Even when she was having the worst day of her life Kiely would always smile; and the fact that she wasn’t struck me at my very core.

"I’m sorry."

Her small voice brought me back to the situation at hand. "Sorry? For what? Honey, you have done nothing wrong. The only person who is in the wrong is the bastard that did this to you. And I swear on everything that I love that he will pay."

"She."

"What?"

"It wasn’t a man who did this to me. It was a woman. Women actually."

She looked so ashamed as she said this that I had the largest desire to hold her, so fierce that my arms seemed to ache. It wasn’t until I reminded myself that my hugging her might cause more damage that it registered in my mind what she had just said. "Women? Kiely wait, start at the beginning, tell me what happened."

I watched her sigh, as she seemed to hesitate, I knew that she was hurting but I needed to know and I had a sneaking suspicion that she needed to talk about it. "Um, it’s kind of a long story."

Then suddenly I remembered why I had been called here in the first place. "No problem, you can tell me while the doctor is examining you. I’ll go get ‘em and I’ll see if there is an officer who can take your statement so you don’t have to tell it twice tonight. Okay?"

The gratitude shining in her one good eye made me feel enormously good inside. "’Kay."

vvv

When I returned ten minutes later she was just as I left her. I let the doctor and the nurse from earlier pass by me as I stood to the side not wanting to be in the way. The officer would be there shortly and I told Kiely so. I silently watched as the doctor and nurse cleansed and stitched every cut and bruise on my love body. I couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped as they turned her over to examine her back and I was afforded a clear view of the damaged that had been inflicted. There carved grotesquely into the soft skin of her back were the words ‘DIE SPIGGER’.

How could these monsters have done this to her? How? Kiely was the sweetest person I had ever met and the fact that these women had apparently inflicted this pain on her because of the color of her skin and the texture of her hair incited my anger more than anything ever had. I was used to Kiely and I taking flack for our sexual orientation but somehow this was different. Maybe it was because I had never experienced racial prejudice or maybe it was just because it was happening to my wife, but something died in me in that moment. My hope for humanity, for the future of our world, our children . . . was dead.

I heaved an internal sigh of relief when I was asked to leave for a second to allow them to take X-rays. I did not want Kiely to see the hopelessness in my eyes. I had to be strong. I don’t know how long I waited outside of that room door but the next thing I knew there was a uniformed officer standing in front of me. She had apparently said something to me as she was looking expectantly at me.

"I’m sorry, what did you say?"

"I said are you a relative of the victim?"

No more lies. No more fear–for any reason. "I’m her wife."

vvv

At that moment I was called back in and immediately I noticed the large white cast covering her right are and a matching bandage that was wrapped the crown of her head. Her sheets had been changed and the bloody ones discarded, a saline drip I.V. was now connected to her left hand and she was sporting one of those horrid backless gowns. All in all she still looked like shit, but now she looked like clean shit.

I smiled softly as I got closer to her bed. "Hi, gorgeous."

To my utter delight she laughed, the happy sound lessening the thick feeling of despair. "I would say the same for you, Peanut, but then I’d be lying. What the fuck are you wearing? You look ridiculous."

A feeling of warmth settled in at her words. That’s my Kiely. I grinned. "And here I thought I looked sexy."

"And maybe if I was a sex-starved chimpanzee on acid I’d agree with you."

I could tell she was hurting but this was how she coped. So I let her. "Yeah, yeah."

Our moment was broken the sound of a throat being cleared . . . loudly.

I tried not to show my irritation at the intrusion but I could tell by the twinkle in Kiely’s eye that she saw right through me. I turned towards officer what’s-her-name and put on my best fake smile. "I guess we should start, huh?"

She didn’t look at me but nodded at Kiely. "Miss Sommerson, can you please tell me in detail all that happened during what led up to and took place during the rape."

I flinched at the last word at walked over to the side of the bed that the officer wasn’t occupying and placed a reassuring hand on Kiely’ s own. I steeled myself as best as I could for what I was about t hear but my heart was racing nonetheless as my wife began to speak.

"Well I guess it must have started when I was leaving my friend, Cory’s apartment . . ."

vvv

I couldn’t help but smile at the concern in Cory’s voice. She was always such a worrywart. "Cor, I’ll be fine. I know how to handle myself. Besides, the walk will give me time to think to myself. You know how much that relaxes me."

"Yeah, well you call me as soon as you get home."

I smiled triumphantly. "Okay."

"I mean it Kiki!"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

I watched amusedly as Cory pouted. "Whatever. Let’s just go downstairs before it gets any darker."

We took the elevator down to the lobby and she walked me out to stand under the awning in front of the building. I shivered a little as I realized Cory was right: it was cold.

Cory held open her arms. "Now come give me a hug and a kiss."

I walked into her warm embrace and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for talking me to dinner. It was great."

"Next time it’s on you. You eat too much."

I chuckled as we separated. "I love you too, bitch."

She grinned at me unrepentantly as we continued our familiar game. "I love you more, dyke."

"Even more, cracker."

"Even more times infinity, Barney-lover."

I grabbed at my chest in mock pain. "Oh! Now that was just uncalled for."

She snickered. "Get out of here you nut."

I laughed as I began to walk away. "Later."

"Tell your sexy wife I said hello", she called after me.

"You calling my wife sexy?" I mock-threatened.

"Hell yes!" she laughed.

I laughed with her. I wasn’t going to argue that. My wife was sexy.

It wasn’t until I was on the third block that I felt something was wrong. The smile, that had been on my face since my parting with Cory, fell, as I swept my gaze all around me, looking for whatever was making my stomach clench in awareness. I wasn’t afraid, I had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and had studied kickboxing for many years. I could handle myself.

After a moment I continued on. I stopped again when I heard footsteps walking behind me. I moved to the side towards the doorway of a closed store attempting to let whoever it was past. I turned to see whom it was and was surprised when I saw a group of five women. They slowed as they came up on and I wasn’t sure what they wanted so I didn’t completely let my guard down. The tallest of the group walked up to me and smiled.

" Hey, beautiful. What’s your name?"

I sighed internally at the thought of being hit on. I was too tired for this crap. "Kiely, why do you want to know?"

She winked at me before answering and I had the sudden urge to cringe. "I just wanted to know the name of the girl who’s going on a date with me tomorrow."

I snorted at the thought. "Excuse me? I’m sorry but I’m taken."

"You have a nice accent where are you from?"

She seemed genuinely interested and the nice girl in me couldn’t be rude. "All over. But I grew up mainly between here, Jamaica, and Brazil."

"I thought you looked kinda Spanish but you’re so dark I couldn’t tell."

The way she said that made my hackles rise but I smiled anyway. "Yeah, I get that a lot. It was nice meeting you." I turned towards her friends, "Night ladies." I moved to walk away when I felt a hand grab my arm. I tried to relax my arm not wanting to hurt someone if it was just an innocent gesture. "What?" I said a bit harshly to the same woman. It was then that I realized she hadn’t told me her name.

"Whoa, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you, baby."

Against my will my mind flashed to the last time I had heard those words spoken to me:

That hurt and anger still burned inside of me. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Quiet, bitch. I wouldn’t be taking that tone with her if I were you."

This was the woman who I had been talking to earlier. I was pissed now. Mostly at myself, but a lot at whomever it was that had me tied on a floor hurling racial slurs at me. "Naw, you’re not pretty enough to be me."

I felt a searing pain as something sharp was shoved into the muscle of my calf. I bit my lip to hold back the scream. I heard a laugh somewhere to my right as the same sharp implement was used to cut open my shirt. That made three. I wondered where the other two were. I felt a hand on each of my newly bared breasts squeezing roughly. There was a whoosh of air as a pair of lips bent to my ear.

"We’re gonna make you scream spigger. Show you why you never should have been born. You’re nothing. You’re worthless."

Oddly I didn’t feel fear at her harsh words; just a quiet resignation to the fact that I was going to be raped . . . again.

So, I didn’t say no as they kissed me one by one, their rancid breath consuming my mouth.

I didn’t say no as they shoved their fists in both my orifices, feeling the delicate tissues of my vaginal walls tearing and splitting open of my anus.

I didn’t say so as they rained blows down on me telling me all the while how much I deserved this.

I didn’t say no as their kicks broke my bones and their words broke my spirit.

I didn’t say no as they proclaimed me their whore and carved my back with their words of hate.

I didn’t say no as they spit on me and untied my hands leaving me to die on the cold hard floor bleeding out my life.

My soul was hemorrhaging as I was trapped in a mental cycle of shame, fear, pain, and confusion.

I was eight bleeding on the peach carpet of my room; I was fifteen bleeding on the blue comforter of my bed; I was twenty-four bleeding on the hard uncaring floor of some unknown room.

I was dying . . . because I didn’t say no.

vvv

I watched through eyes clouded with tears as she finished talking. She is amazing. I don’t know how she has gone through all of this shit in her life and is still able to smile everyday. I excuse myself from the room for a moment because I don’t want Miss ‘super trooper’ to see me break down. But I only go as far as just outside the door. Kiely’ s still my wife and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her now. I take a few cleansing breaths reminding myself that this is just the beginning of the healing process and that there will be a whole lot more tears to come. The door opens and I here Sergeant ‘Wonder Woman’ say a few parting words.

"Thank you for your time Miss Ambrasio. We’ll do our best to apprehend your assailants. I hope you get well soon. Someone from my department will be in touch."

She walked past not even sparing a glance in my direction. I’m not sure why I didn’t like her but right now I didn’t give a shit. I pulled myself together as well as I could under the circumstances and walked back in to the room.

As she just looked at me, her blue eye standing out in sharp relief to the bloodshot tissue surrounding it, I was once again struck by her strength and her ability to forgive, because of all the emotions I saw in that one glance not one of them was anger. My amazement must have shown on my face because she just shrugged with her semi-good arm.

"I can’t be angry at them."

I didn’t understand because I was so angry. "Why?"

"Because I feel sorry for them. That they were so imbued in their hatred that they didn’t realize that none of this," she gestured to her skin, " . . . matters."

A morbid curiosity crept forth from me and before I could censor myself it was too late. "What were they?"

She looked reluctant to answer so I immediately became nervous. "They were . . . white."

I looked down, filled with the irrational fear that because her assailants shared my skin color that she would hate me now. I felt the tears begin again at the mere thought of her not loving me. "D-do you hate me now?" My voice sounded so sad, so pathetic that if I didn’t need to know her answer I would have cringed at my weakness.

"Peanut, come here."

I did as she said, coming to rest on the side of her bed. I looked at her, pure emotion swimming in my eyes as I hoped beyond hope that I was not about to lose the woman I loved more than peanut butter. And that was saying a lot.

"Are you fucked in the head?"

Did that mean she didn’t hate me? ‘Cause I couldn’t tell. "Um, yes?" I hoped that was the right answer.

"You must be to think that I could ever hate you. I don’t know if I could ever truly hate another human being. I know I may be a wee bit insane but you, my love, are severely whacked."

She said ‘my love’. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face if I tried. But I still had my doubts. "But how can you look at me at not see them?"

"Because I see you. Not your hair, or your eyes, or your nose, or your skin, just you. I always have. And nothing, and certainly no one, will ever change that."

I let the tears fall down my cheeks no longer worried about being strong. I love her, and she loves me. And that makes us strong. "I love you."

She smiles at me and I see it in her ‘eye’ before she has to say a word. "Good, because I’ve loved since you first gave me your peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

I laugh as the memory enters my brain. "You were only four."

"I was a child prodigy."

"You were amazing. You are amazing." I can see that she needs to here this.

"Yeah so amazing as to have been raped three times. Three times." I can feel the shame that she’s feeling.

"Yes, you are. Because most people wouldn’t have survived the first with their sanity intact." I know she’s about to deny it but I won’t let her. "Do you love me?"

"Of course."

"Then trust me."

And she does.

vvv

We’ve been lying here for god knows how long. Just talking about everything and nothing. And I don’t how it’s happened but I swear I’ve fallen in love with her again. Lying here just feeling her warmth at my side her voice in my ear, I can almost forget that we’re in a hospital surrounded by pain and death–almost.

Suddenly she stops talking but that doesn’t worry me for she does that quite often. Gets swept away by her thoughts.

"Get me a piece of paper and something to write with."

I’m a bit bewildered by her request. "Why?"

"Just, please I need to write something down before I lose this. The pain meds are starting to work and I don’t want to forget when I conk out."

Her voice is a mixture of excitement and desperation that tears at my heartstrings. So what do I do? I run out of the room to go search for a pen and paper of course. Whipped? Hell yeah. And I love it.

I stare at her as she hurriedly jots down whatever has been niggling at the forefront of her brain. I ask if she wants me to write it down for her since she’s having so much trouble with her right hand but she just shrugs me off and says that she has to do this herself. Finally she seems to be done as she drops the pen from her hand and succumbs to the call for rest that she has been trying to steadfastly ignore.

I watch her sleep, letting the slow even cadence of her breathing lull me into a state of calm that I never imagined I’d experience again after that dreaded phone call that seems lifetimes away now. I look to the piece of paper lying peacefully on her prone chest. I toy with the idea of not reading it but I know that Kiely wouldn’t mind if I did. So I carefully pick up the delicate sheet slowly examining the scrawled and rushed handwriting of my lover, trying to decipher its meaning. Tentatively, almost reverently I begin to read the words aloud:

I heard an angel cry today
Weeping as if in pain.
Her mournful screams pierced through the silence of the morning;
The sadness in her voice reaching out to all who would listen.
The heavens trembled and shook with the intensity of her pain.
The spirits of the dead began to join in her melancholy song,
Their voices weaving a tale of persecution and suffering.
The life of a people scorned.
Death, hate, and pain swirled in the air;
A thick ominous fog polluting all it touched.
But the song,
The song of hope,
Gave a light through all the darkness,
A dream of a better future.
I heard an angel cry today,
And she cried for peace.

vvv

Maybe my hope isn’t dead after all. Maybe, just maybe, it lies in the woman sleeping beside me. And all the others like her who have been able to hold onto their hope despite all the misery that has faced them during their lives. As I gaze at her bruised and swollen face, looking past her the outside, past the pain, I finally see what she has seen in me all along: just her.

I saw her.

And I was right . . . I definitely love her more than peanut butter.

Fini

Tell me what you thought at: my_bras_in_my_ass@hotmail.com

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