Her Mafia Brothers

Nightmare

I swallowed hard as the men watching me licked their lips lasciviously. I didn't know who they were; some random men my mother's latest boyfriend had brought home. I was property, a possession to be hired out for their viewing pleasure.

"No," I whimpered, and backed away, but there wasn't anywhere for me to go - I was up against the corner right at the back of our dingy apartment. The single, bare bulb dangled from it's cord above my head, casting shadows across the room every time one of the men moved, taking another step towards me.

The cigarette in his mouth glowed orange, the smoke making me cough as he took a puff. He reached for me, grabbed my arm, hauled me up to stand in front of him. I screamed in pain as he hissed in my face that I was a no good, worthless piece of shit before he stubbed his cigarette out on my back, grinding the butt into my skin. I screamed at the acrid smell of burning flesh, screamed in terror at the evil grins of the men around me, their lips twisted up cruelly in a sick smile.

He dropped me to the floor and I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms over my head to protect myself as best as I could.

"Noooo! Please!" I screamed in terror as I heard him rip his belt from the loops of his pants. The jangle of the buckle sent shudders through me. I squeezed my eyes tight shut at first, but then couldn't resist peeking through my fingers. I saw him raise the belt high.

"Bitch!" he yelled at me, before bringing the belt down across my body, again and again and again. He took pleasure in my pain, seemed to be turned on by my screams. And the men beside him seemed to be enjoying it too. I was their plaything. In return, they would give my mother drugs, and I'd get a few days of peace while she was comatose on our old, broken couch.

I tried to bite back my screams as the belt hit the fresh burn he had made, but the pain was too great. Everything went black.

"Carrie! Carrie!" I could hear a voice, a man's voice, somewhere far off in the distance, calling me. It was a gentle voice, not his. It wasn't a voice I associated with pain. But I couldn't reach it.

"Carrie, wake up sweetheart. You're dreaming. Come on sweet girl, wake up for me."

The voice sounded closer now, urgent.

Someone was touching me. My hands. My arms. I screamed and fought, kicking and hitting with everything I had. No way was I going to let him hurt me again.

"Carrie, wake up. Come on darling girl, you're safe. You're safe." The voice was gentle, reassuring, but I was too afraid to trust it.

I couldn't move. Warm hands held me still. My hands, my arms, my legs. I was pinned down in all directions. "Relax Carrie. You're going to hurt yourself. Come on sweetheart, wake up for me. Open your eyes."

Obediently, I partially opened one eye then instantly closed it again. The glare of the overhead light was too bright. I didn't want to see the shadows it cast. The shadows of my torturers. Men who wanted to hurt me. Men who took delight in my pain.

I heard another voice telling someone to switch off the light and even though my eyes were shut, I could tell the room was darker. Instead, the light on the table beside my bed was switched on and I relaxed, just slightly.

"That's it," the voice encouraged. "Open your eyes again darling girl. You're safe, it's just us. Your brothers. We're not going to hurt you."

The grip on my arms and legs eased and I opened my eyes fully, looking up into the concerned gaze of my brother. Jack. I struggled to sit up and he helped me, lifting me under my arms, propping a pillow behind me.

"You had a nightmare," he explained. "But you're safe now, I promise."

I was shaking, so Jack sat down next to me and hugged me close to him, comforting me, reassuring me. Reminding me that I was safe.