Until I Break(38)
Author: M. Leighton

“No.”

“Did you like watching her?”

“No!” she says emphatically. “Oh, God! It was horrible.”

“Then why did you?”

“I didn’t for a long time. I would put a pillow over my head to drown out the sounds. It wasn’t until I heard more than just one woman’s voice that I ever went back to her door at night.”

“And how old were you then?”

“Fifteen.”

“Tell me about it.”

I see her chest rise and fall with her deep inhalation. “I went because I was afraid for my mother. I didn’t know what more than one person might do to her. So I crept down the hall and stood in front of her door. I just listened for a while. It’s when I started to hear some banging around that I got up the nerve to twist the door knob and crack the door just a tiny bit. I did it and then ran back to my room, just in case someone inside noticed.”

“And did they?”

“No, no one noticed. I’m sure they were far too busy enjoying themselves.”

“You must’ve gone back.”

“I did. I waited until I was sure no one would notice and I crept back down the hall and pushed it open just enough so I could see inside.”

“And what did you see this time?”

“My mother was with another woman and a man on the bed. Both the woman and the man were doing things to her. To each other, too. When I was satisfied she wasn’t being hurt, I started to back away.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. That’s when I saw the other couple in the room.”

“And what were they doing?”

“The girl probably wasn’t much older than I was. She was on her knees with her face on the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back and he was holding on to them as he pushed something in and out of her. Hard. And fast. She was moaning and he was telling her to take it all like a good little girl.”

“Did that scare you?”

Her mouth opens and closes twice before she speaks. “A little.”

“Why?”

“Well, the two times I’d seen people having sex were both…unusual and, to a child, almost violent. Painful looking. So yes, it scared me.”

“Could you not understand that she was enjoying what he was doing to her?”

“Yes, but I think that was part of the problem.”

“How so?”

“To a kid’s way of thinking, it looked like the only way to find pleasure in sex was through violence and pain.”

“Were these the only times you saw things like that?”

“No. I watched a few times after that, but only when I knew there were other people in there, not just my mother.”

“And were those experiences similar?”

“For the most part. There was some variety to it, but every night seemed to reinforce the theme of pain equaling pleasure.”

“Did your mother ever find out that you watched?”

A long pause. “Yes,” Samantha answers in a small voice.

“What was that night like?”

She laughs. It’s a bitter sound. “I think it’s safe to say it was one of the worst nights of my life.” She pauses again, as if to gather strength to relive that night in the retelling of it. “It was a Tuesday. I’d had a date that night. I was sixteen and he was my very first boyfriend. He’d taken me to the movies then dropped me back off at home a little after nine. I was too excited to sleep, so I was awake when she came in. It was just after eleven. She and her…guests went straight to her bedroom. It was probably fifteen or twenty minutes later when I got up to go to the bathroom. Her door was wide open this time, which was a first. As I passed, I only saw her and one guy. He looked a little familiar, but I didn’t really think much of it. I always tried to look away from Mom when I happened to see her. It was as I was going back to bed that I saw him sitting in the corner of the room.”

“Who?” I ask, but she doesn’t hear me.

“I thought at first my eyes were playing tricks on me, but when I saw Jamie’s letterman’s jacket crumpled on the floor, I knew it was him. It was Jamie Nunley, my boyfriend.” There’s a faraway, pained look in her eyes as she stares straight ahead. She’s lost in the past. “He was sitting in a chair across from the bed with his pants unzipped, jacking off as he watched one of his football buddies screw my mom.”

When she doesn’t continue, I give her a few minutes to collect herself before I ask my next question. “What did you do?”

“I gasped. I couldn’t help it. I was…stunned. I tried to cover my mouth, but I wasn’t quite quick enough. Jamie looked toward the door and smiled. I’m sure that’s who opened it to begin with. Anyway, I ran back to my room. He followed me. I thought he’d try to explain it or make up some crazy excuse, but he didn’t. It’s almost like he wanted me to see. I tried to shut my door on him, but I couldn’t get it closed fast enough. He pushed it open and came in. Just walked right into my room like he hadn’t been doing what he was doing. He was smiling, even. I got mad, of course. I slapped him. And it felt so good. Until he slapped me back. From there, the angrier I got, the more it seemed to turn him on. Finally, he grabbed me and threw me on the bed and started kissing me. I struggled. Told him over and over to get off me, but he seemed to like it the more I fought him. He slapped me a few times. Harder and harder each time. ‘Oh, so that’s how you like it, huh? Like your mom? You like it rough, baby?’ I was terrified by then. I reached up and scratched his face. I’d have done anything to get him off me. But that just made him madder. That’s when he pinned my arms underneath me so I couldn’t move them, so I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t even stop him when he reached between my legs.”

When Samantha stops, I don’t prompt her to continue. I’m letting her recover as I digest what she’s told me thus far, what she’s been through and how she must’ve felt when I took her to the club.

“I started screaming and Mom finally heard. She came in and made him leave before he could rape me.” Another bitter laugh. “After he was gone, she went to her room for a long time. I kept expecting her to come and comfort me, but when she finally came out, she was furious. The funny thing is: She wasn’t angry with Jamie. She was angry with me.”

I grit my teeth in anger. I’ve never been able to understand parents who could stand by and watch their children be hurt.