Charlote Roy Part 4
" Oh, my God... Jonathan... — Tears burn my cheek. I scratch the floor with my nails, digging them in until they break. — No...
I fall on my ass on the floor, feeling everything shatter like glass. I shouldn't look there,
I know that, but still it's in the mirror that my vision stops. Her hand holds Roy's small fingers on her breast, making him massage her breast, while the other hand still masturbates him. My knees drag on the floor. I bring them close to my chest, hugging my legs so I don't feel lost in the madness. Jonathan tries to pull away. His face is wet, I see the tears of crying that run down his face, but she still holds him. I scream with hatred, feeling on my face the open-handed slap that she delivers to his face.
"Oh, my God... — I bite my hand, my teeth sinking deep into the skin. I want to rip my chest open, I want to get inside that screen and take Jonathan out of that place.
She kisses his face again, rubbing her face against his, biting him slowly. Jonathan cries more, releasing her breast that was in his little hand, and this made her angry, crushing Jonathan's genitals in her fingers. This is diabolical! Her eyes are demonic when they open, showing that she has no soul inside, no regret for what she is doing. She slides her mouth over his chest, leaving bite marks with each suck she gives. I see him scream. The tears that run down his face run down mine in the same painful way. I hug my body tightly, as if it could be Jonathan there, so I can save him. The vomit comes back aggressively and stronger when I see my own mother sucking my brother's penis. Her hand slips between his legs and I know what she is doing. I feel it inside my body, as if I were the one being invaded. She penetrates him with the tip of her ring finger, pushing until he screams. Jonathan tries to push her away, to get away from the pain she causes him. Her mouth releases his penis, slapping Jonathan's face again, angrily, to make him stop crying. My mind wanders between pain and anger. I lower my face, hiding my face in my knees, crying with my heart torn apart. I remember the first time Roy tried to kill himself. Aunt Charlotte never told me what really happened. The second time, when he slit her throat, I thought it was pain because I had seen her being murdered in front of him. When the intentional car accident left him in a coma, Aunt Charlotte cried softly between whispers, saying that Roy never left that closet. And he didn't. Jonathan never left there. Dad didn't kill her because she had taken a lover, my father killed her because she had destroyed my brother's innocence.
The sun is already rising outside when I am able to leave the attic. I drag myself outside, making my choice. I walk to Aunt Charlotte's room. When I hand him the ribbon, I don't need words to describe what I feel, I just tell him that he can leave, taking Jon to Germany. I can't be a mother, I shouldn't be a mother, not when my own mother was a monster and I'm a freak. A damn freak who carries the blood of a creature as cold as her!
I breathe with the strength I have inside me, wiping my face damp from the soft tears. I look at Jon. My body moves in bed and I lie down next to him, pulling the covers over him, stealing once again only fragments of what a life with him would be like. Jon was the best thing that ever happened to me, and letting him grow up far from me and Jonathan was the best thing I could have done for him. Pasts are not meant to be relived. The past is not a direction, the past is a reference from which we should never return.
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