“Christian,” he placed a hand on my shoulder. “How about you sleep on this? Today’s been a long day and your emotions?—”
“My emotions are fucking fine,” I snapped. I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. “Osama, Ineedthis.”
I didn't know whether it was the desperation on my face or something else, but his chest rose and fell with a sudden intake of breath before he muttered an exasperated, “Fine, let’s do it.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” he pointed a finger at me. “We’re doing this together.”
Hasan started with the letter. I looked through the hospital reports, bile rising up my throat.
Who did this to Eomma?
“You might want to read this, Christian.”
Osama handed me the letter and I began to read.
TWENTY-FIVE
THE LETTER (TW: RAPE)
Sunday, July 27, 2017.
Dear Daniel,
I wasn’tsure how to start this letter. If I had to tell you about all the things I love about you or continue with all the things I hate about myself. We’ve been together for over twenty years. You are my best friend, my soulmate, and will forever be the love of my life.
I’m sitting on the hospital bed right now. Christian is sleeping with his head on the side of the bed. He told me he’d read to me, but he was never a fan of reading. I’m not sure why he offered in the first place when his company is enough for me. I miss you though, you barely visit. The last time I saw you was two weeks ago. Christian tells me you said you’ve been visiting me; I wasn’t sure why your lies confused me. You’ve always been charismatic in that way.
Eda’s been giving me books. That’s when I found out. There’s a picture in one of them, you two are naked in it. I wish I had it in me to walk all the way back home and give you a piece of my mind. I wish I could pull her hair and swear at her. I wish I could do all the evil things going through my brain.
But I can’t because I’ve never been one to resort to violence. Instead, I think, and I think too much. What I have thought is that I understand. She is younger than me. She is well. She makes you feel good.
When you look at me all you see is a bald woman whose bones are more pronounced than her smile. I understand, I do.
Which is why I’m choosing to tell you this. Not because I want you to hate her, to loathe her, but to see what she did to your wife seven years ago. Eda was one of my best friends, so was Laura and Ralph.
Adelaide’s parents would have helped me.
But I’d like to think my husband will always help me.
I hope you haven’t eaten anything today because what I’m about to tell you is gruesome, it’s raw, it’s disturbing.
I love you but love isn’t enough to hide all the truths scarring my body.
On September 20th, 2010, I was raped by Brian Samuels and Todd Kerrigan in Starlight’s storage room on the fortieth floor, right next to one of the coffee machines that held the coffee beans I loved so much that you gifted me a year worth of them on our anniversary.
It lasted exactly eight minutes.
I thought it might have been something I did, maybe something I wore, but it was because I disagreed with them ata meeting. I don’t remember what I disagreed with but that was it. Not because I was promiscuous, but because I asked for it, but by politely declining their recommendations.
My underwear was ripped off me and stuffed in my mouth. Two of my precious holes were abused, completely annihilated by their contaminated hands. They whispered vulgar language in my ears, while tears streamed down my face. When they were done with me, they left me there. Underwear in my mouth and dragged my self-respect with them.
Sometimes I can still feel them in between my legs. I can still feel the tear and the indentation of tears on my face.
You asked me that night why I was hobbling, I told you it was because I exercised after a long time. But you probably don’t remember.
It was a normal day for everyone else but me.
