Dance for me

I wake up, of course, next to Yuta. He has me thinking over everything going on. It's all so confusing...it hurts... everything does. I don't know if this is my fault or not. I should never have gone to his house as that vulnerable 7 year old. I should've stood up for myself. I should never have gone to sixth form college, or been to Yutas house, or gone to the pier. In fact,

I should never have been born. 

My whole body is aching. 

Not only from the torture, but from the rough love that lasted hours and only benefitted Yuta. I want to sit up. I want to run away. But the torture I endured before is stopping me from moving...stopping me from making a move or he might wake up and it'll start all over again. 

I wonder about the neighbour. Will her family come round looking for her? Will anyone cry at her funeral? Was her death...my fault for screaming so loud?

No matter how vividly I remember her head neck cracking and her lifeless eyes as she slumped down on the stairs, I cant summon the urge to cry. 

I just cant.

I don't know how long I lie there, but minutes and hours pass by. I hear a fly buzzing in the corner of the room as it wakes up and tries to find its way out, see the small peeps of light start to file in through the crack in the curtains and hear the birds outside start to chirrup in good morning. 

And I hear Yuta wake up from his deep sleep, stretching out and turning over as he tries to fight the tiredness. 

Then he seems to remember...what he did. What he did to me, and that I'm still laying beside him watching his every move. 

As he turns to face me he smiles gently, a sadistic look in his eye as he stands up to draw back the curtains and get a better look at my body.

My body, which is absolutely covered in bruises and lashes from his brutal beatings. He climbs back onto the bed, his hand reaching out to trail along my chest and stomach where there are sickening stabs from his umbrella. I just watch his hand, my heart sinking as I notice my instinct to recoil from his touch has disappeared. Am I...getting used to the abuse?

Am I enjoying it? Is it my fault after all?

He tuts to himself gently, his hand trailing up to my jaw... then my lips.. then my cheek, which he cups in his palm as he looks me in the eyes.

"I didn't mean to." He says quietly. "You know, you make me mad when you don't listen." 

I don't believe him, but I just nod. He leans down to press his lips against my jaw. softly murmuring "I love you..". He says it over and over, kissing my face and neck... and each time a little part of me dies...and somewhere on the windowsill the fly that's been trying to fly out gives up and dies, buzzing quietly in an attempt to call for help in its final moments. 

I don't know how long I lie there, but soon Yuta stands up to take a shower and I summon the energy to sit up carefully. 

My back is in agony. 

But this feels... better.

It feels like all this agony is a huge distraction from all the pain I've experienced in the past year. All the pain I've caused...and it makes me feel something. It makes this Luca personal want to curl up and beg for it to stop, it deems him powerless against the cruelness of the world. 

It makes me the victim, and not the perpetrator of violence. 

Yuta comes out pf the bathroom, his hair wet and sticking to his neck and water dripping down his body. 

He looks...well built for a 17 year old. I observe him for a second, my eyes roaming all around him as he stares at me smugly, proud that I seem so stunned. 

"You like it?" He asks me quietly. I'm not able to answer, though. Because I just can't find my voice this morning. I just nod. 

He looks disappointed, angry even. He mutters something under his breath and starts to get dressed while I sit there, unable to muster the courage to get up and take a shower. There's that huge, grand mirror in the bathroom.

And I never wanna see myself again.

I never, ever want to shower in the bathtub Alex lay in. The steady 'drip-drip-drip' echoes through my mind, just a small reminder...but I gasp and suddenly I'm clutching my ears, trying to hold my head together as the world comes crashing down on me and the reality of my situation kicks in. 

I'm skipping school...I also made love with Yuta- against my consent.

I was tortured...

I might have lost my speech from the trauma...

And, humiliatingly, I'm in Yutas bed right now. 

Am I a whore? Am I asking for all this violation? Why the fuck didn't I just apologise yesterday, and now I'd be on the bus to school? 

I cannot control my breathing. Everything's too much for me...I can't see properly, tears streaming down my cheeks as I try to cower away from the world. 

Suddenly a hand is grasping the top of my arm, pinching deep into my skin and shaking me. 

Yuta's mad again.

"STOP IT HARRIS! STOP THAT NOW!"

My breathing only seems to speed up, my face muscles aching from tensing so hard. The world is gonna end, I'm going to die...I need to hide...I need to hide now... 

"HENRY." Yuta sharply calls me by my real name. His name, The boy who had everything he wanted and needed and more, who wasn't a monster...who still had his dignity...who wasn't..

gay.

Is being gay the problem? Is it so wrong?

I'm trembling now, but I can keep my breathing in control at least. Am I henry? Or am I Harris? Or am I...Luca? 

"Good boy." Yuta goes to his drawer and pulls out a teddy bear. It looks like the one he used to bring in for show and tell, that was personalised from the Balenciaga brand. It even has his name on it. I remember being so jealous of it back then. But then we were 8, weren't we? We were innocent then, right?

He holds it out to me, like he's coaxing a puppy with a toy. I'm not really sure what to do with it. I feel humiliated, stupid, violated. 

I'm not a dog. 

He smiles, almost like he's enjoying seeing me in so much confusion. 

"D'you want it?" He asks me. 

I nod slowly, not because I do, but because I'm scared what he might do if I don't want it. 

"Come and earn it then." He settles onto his sofa next to the bed, pointing in front of him for me to stand up. 

I just can't. 

It's as if my legs are paralyzed. I try to drag myself up, but I can't bring myself to do it. His expression hardens, and just like that, I use every last atom of strength to pull myself up and stand in front of him. 

Naked to my pants, humiliated. But that's how he controls me, right? 

He smiles now, pleased. 

"Dance for me."