Page 54 of Kill Me

“Because there was a password-protected folder I couldn’t get into.”

“Show me.”

“Quinn, please. You don’t want to watch this, I promise you.”

“If I don’t watch it, I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking what if.”

He sits next to me and turns his phone around. He presses play. And the anger that floods my veins is incomprehensible. It’s like being violated; but this time you know about it. This time, you have the power to stop and start the video.

Tears stream down my face as I watch my best friend hold my hands down while my brother and Dane use various objects littered around the garage to penetrate me. Spanners of different sizes. Wrenches as well. They even pull up the car clamps to try and keep me open as they assault me. But the grand finale is when Dane drops his trousers and assaults me himself. I stop and rewind, watching over and over as she laughs at the things they’re doing and calls me a ‘fucking slut’.

She spits in my face, cutting at me with a penknife as I lie there unconscious, obviously drugged. Eric says, “Looks like all of those prescription meds have been useful for once.” Dane laughs as he slams his dick into me until he clearly orgasms, and then Eric takes over.

I don’t realise I’m hyperventilating until Keelan takes the phone from me and tries to encourage me to breathe.

There had been mornings where I’d woken up and felt sore, or had cuts and bruises across my body, and no idea how they got there. But when I would point them out, everyone would tell me I’d had an episode, and that’s where they came from. Why would I question them? They’re my family, and it had become a pattern of mine. Self-harm, forget, promise never to do it again, and then start the cycle all over again. There was no reason for me to question them.

I lean back against the sofa, my energy depleted from the crying. Keelan sits back next to me. “What do you want to do?” he asks.

“What can I do?”

“You could report them. We have the proof.”

“You know that would never work. I’d just be isolated and left to fend for myself whilst my parents took his side.”

“You could bide your time and get your own revenge.”

“I think you’re confusing me with someone else, Kee. I can barely function, let alone act out an elaborate revenge plan on the rapists I’m supposed to know nothing about.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against my thigh.

“Do you know the funniest thing? The worst thing about what I just watched is that she was there. I don’t know how to explain it. For my entire life I expected Eric to do something like this. Maybe I should be thankful it was me and no one else.”

“Are you insane? Of course you shouldn’t be thankful. No one deserves to go through something like this. Besides, if you think about it, he probably has done it to others. His history is very telling.”

“Is there a date on the video?”

Keelan pulls the video back up and looks at the details. “This one was from two weeks ago.”

I stand up and pace, doing laps of the living room like my life depends on it—because right now, it does. I open my mouth to say something but run to the bathroom before throwing up into the toilet. Keelan appears behind me. He stands there with his hands tucked into his pockets. He looks uncomfortable. Like he has no idea what to do with himself.

“Are you ok, Quinn? What can I do?”

The front door opens, and I hear my mum and Eric. I flush the toilet and quickly check my appearance in the mirror. Sweeping my fingers under my eyes to rid myself of the mascara streaks and splashing my face with cold water, I turn to Keelan.

“Keep your mouth shut. That’s what you can do for me.”

“But what about making sure he faces the consequences?”

“Oh, he will. Don’t you worry. I’ve spent my whole life afraid of him. Minimising my every movement for fear of what he would do to me if I was confrontational. No more. When I’m finished with him, meek little Quinn will be unrecognisable, and Eric will be dead.”

Keelan’s eyes go wide. But just as my mother and brother walk through the door into the kitchen, he nods his head and takes a step back before whispering, “Whatever you need to do, do. I’ll keep the video safe. He deserves this and more.”

“What the fuck are you doing talking to my sister?” Eric's voice grates on me more than usual. It takes everything in me not to scream in his face, pummel him with my fists and grab the nearest knife before plunging it through his throat. The rage bubbling inside of me is something I’ve never experienced.

I’m usually the quiet girl. The girl that will sit there and take blow after blow, sometimes offering a sarcastic and sassy response. Is this how everyone else feels when they learn they’ve been raped? I’ve watched countless TV shows and read hundreds of books, and when it happens in those, the victims don’t react this way. They either hide away from the experience or report the person to the authorities. Why am I not doing that?

Why is the first thought running through my mind to murder my abuser? To see his dick and balls nailed to the wall or displayed on a shelf for all to see.