Sing For Me. Betsy Jiron

of innocence. I imagined that this was the feeling I was supposed to experience after losing my virginity. It was as if Marcus had given back what was taken from me years ago. I needed that feeling more than anything. My thoughts of “cutting” and “burning” had become a memory of the past, memories of someone else.

      Marcus and I discontinued our relationship shortly before our junior year ended. I wasn't upset or hurt by it. Our relationship was a blessing for me. Because of him, I found a strength and security I never knew I had.

      Everything seemed to be coming together at mom's house. We had started communicating more often and Daniel and I were speaking passing through the house. Mom's house had become a home, a family.

      Summer was right around the corner. The rain on the tin roof of my mother's house echoed through my soul like a song that had been written just for me. The scent of the wild flowers and forestry had returned and the comforting smell lingered through the house once again. I had made it through the first year of my “new beginning” and I couldn't be more content.

      As scheduled, Max had arrived for another fun filled summer at the beach. Derren married his high school sweetheart that summer as well. For a year, I fought back all the feelings of hatred and defiance. But, the animosity I felt towards life had started to creep up from inside once again.

      I spent all my time at the beach and shopping with my friends as usual, but the ache in my heart had brought back the urge to fight; not only myself, but also everyone around me. I needed something or someone as damaged as I. Someone with the same pain so I didn't have to feel it alone anymore.

      Evenings at the beach were spent on what we called, “the strip.” It was the only highway that went through every beach up the coast. There was no other place on earth I wanted to be. There were the countless clubs, shops, jewelry stores with necklaces made of seashells, and plenty of tourists.

      Just beyond the chaos of tourists and playing children lay the darkness, the darkness that protected the sand and calm ripples of the ocean. The night sky left the imagination to wonder, the crashing of the waves drowning out sounds of screaming children and angry parents. All that was left to be heard was the beating of your own heart. Not a care in the world.

      I sat in the sand just to breathe and listen. The darkness that surrounded me seemed to mimic how I felt inside, “The big black empty hole” trying to fight its way up to the surface. I sat there alone most nights. Nothing could hurt me there.

      The Illusion was a nightclub for teenagers. It was by far the hot spot of the beach – my friends and I had to park nearly half a mile away given the tourists had taken the closer parking spaces as usual. I'd crossed these streets a million times before, but this time, it would change my life forever.

      I could feel his stare burn straight through me as we weaved ourselves through the chaotic beach traffic. Our bodies brushed against each other as we crossed the busy street. The energy between us was intense, more intense than I had ever felt before. I lifted my eyes slowly. I had to see the face of the man that could bring on this feeling. His eyes were dark and powerful…body was strong and solid. The tighter my chest got, the more I struggled to breathe.

      Braxton was his name. Braxton was a predator and I was powerless. It was his eyes. Something about those eyes pulled me into the darkest world I will never come to know. He was a few years older than I was and a dropout from the high school I attended.

      Braxton lived with family friends in the projects 10 miles or so from my mother's. Their house was small and dirty without carpets and torn furniture. The house reeked of bleach and urine. I never judged him or the family by their living conditions. I embraced them as they embraced and accepted me.

      My mother disapproved of the relationship, of course. I couldn't blame her. She saw the red flags long before I did. Braxton was very jealous and overbearing. The only time I had away from him was at school or at home. Otherwise, he kept a very short leash on me. I was no longer “allowed” to wear a bikini top without a t-shirt over it.

      There were two other teenage boys living in the house. They all considered each other brothers. It was made clear to me that I wasn't to talk to them for any reason. They snuck in a few smiles and winks here and there when Braxton wasn't looking. The brothers were so pretty sporting smooth and light brown skin. The younger of the two had one green eye and one brown eye. I wanted to touch them both. I wanted to see if their hands made me feel the way their smiles did.

      They had a sister my age as well. She was my excuse for sleepovers so I could wake up with Braxton every chance I had. Braxton was aggressive sexually, and he very rarely looked at me during sex. He was, however, very vocal. He would repeat phrases like, “I'll kill you if you leave me,” and, “I'll kill you both if I catch you with someone else.” I knew he wasn't kidding. I could feel the hatred and jealousy in every beat of his cold empty heart. I knew this pain he felt all too well. I had spent my whole life trying to escape it within myself.