Peter Prellwitz - Shards Book One

Breathe in. Thud-ud. Breathe out. Thud-ud. Soothing regularity. Peaceful rhythm. Thud-ud. Listen carefully… I opened my mouth with a silent scream as it rushed at me again, a huge beast that meant to destroy my body, my mind, me.

My throat tightened and closed as the horror of my shame savaged me. I whimpered, then moaned, shuddering the length of my body. With horror, I realized I couldn't hear her heart! I sobbed, and my tears began wetting her top, still damp from earlier. Her heart! Where was her heartbeat? Thinking of nothing else, I again tightened my grip and pushed my head harder against her chest. Desperation and intense hopelessness engulfed me.

She brought her arms around me, holding me tight. My body was heaving with wracking sobs. I felt dirty.

Used. Cast aside, like

PLEASE HIT ME AGAIN. IT'S MY FAULT I'M NOT BLEEDING ENOUGH. UHHH! THANK YOU! I'M ASHAMED TO ASK ANYTHING, BUT HIT ME AGAIN, PLEASE! I ONLY WANT TO DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY. YES, I LOVE BEING BEATEN. UHHHH! I'M SORRY I FELL DOWN. YES, YOU SHOULD HIT ME BECAUSE I FELL DOWN. IT'S YOUR RIGHT. I WANT YOU TO UHHH! HIT ME. I-I-I CAN'T BREATHE RIGHT. UHHH! NO, I'D NEVER COMPLAIN. I'M UHH!!! HAPPY, BECAUSE… BECAUSE YOU UHH! ARE.

so much garbage. I had been laid open and exposed for all to destroy and mock, and I had allowed it.

Had I enjoyed it? Shame struck deep into the very core of my being. If I couldn't stop it, then maybe I deserved…

NO! I pounded on Susan with all my feeble strength, fighting off my despair and sense of worthlessness.

IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! I did not do this to myself! I did not allow it! It was forced on me! I had no choice! IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! Still, I clung to Susie, unaware of any attentions she may be giving me. Then I did become aware, slowly, that she was holding me to her, tightly, as though trying to share my pain. Her care made me feel worthwhile. I felt the stirrings of control, shreds of respect returning to me.

But how did I know she really cared for me? Doubt gripped my mind, strangled my will. Insecurity and guilt raked my mind. You little fool! You completely helpless, worthless, fool. A rancid, meaningless piece of…

"NO!? I shrieked.? IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! NO! No!…? I clenched my teeth and fought my terror back. My face was still buried in Susie's chest. I fought off my doubts and turned my ear to her breast again. I forced myself to stop sobbing and listened again for her heartbeat.

Horror… self-hatred…? No,? I whispered. Listen! I held Susie with all my strength.? No.? Then I heard it. Thud-ud. Steady. Thud-ud. Doubt… shame… humiliation.? No.? Thud-ud. Thud-ud.

I felt Susie's hugs again, and heard her whispering quietly in my ear. Thud-ud. Thud-ud. I let her share her strength with me. Why was she sharing? Doubt ignited suspicion. Mistrust exploded inside me, shooting panic like shrapnel through my being. I began to pull away, then stopped myself and with great effort went back into her embrace, placing my ear against her left breast once again. Thud-ud. Thud-ud.

Thud-ud. She stroked my hair, still whispering. Thud-ud. Thud-ud. I reached up a shaky hand and placed it on her cheek. It was wet with tears. Mesmerized by the thudding of her strong heart, I ran my fingers over to her hair, letting the thick, curly strands trickle and flow through my fingers. Thud-ud.

Thud-ud. Thud-ud. I lowered my hand and let it rest on her chest. I sighed and felt the smallest tingle. It was an emotion, no a feeling. No, it was a sense of being. I felt secure. Safe. Protected. My mind slowly came back to be my own. I was becoming me again. My horror and self-loathing had faded. Thud-ud.

Thud-ud. I told myself it was time to heal, and I believed it. Thud-ud. Thud-ud. Tears welled up, and I began to cry again. But this time it was not the uncontrollable crying of hopelessness, nor the painful wail of desolate anguish. It was the cleansing weeping of acceptance and restoration.

I neither knew nor cared how long I wept. But gradually my tears slowed then stopped. I would be a long time recovering from these sensations of humility and vulnerability, but now I knew I would recover.

"How are you, little one?? Susan whispered.

I lay against her and remained silent. She waited several minutes, then softly repeated the question, kissing me gently on the forehead. I turned my face up to her and stared into the darkness. I stretched up my hand and ran my fingers over her face, as though I was blind and wanted to know her. I explored her features, her soft skin, her full lips, her strong cheeks. She seemed so much older and in control than me.

In that moment, she seemed much more my mother than my friend. I pulled my hand back to my mouth and sucked a finger. It was a very childish thing to do, but I was feeling very much the child. I listened to her heart and soaked up the warmth of our bodies huddled together under the blanket.

Very quietly, and showing no impatience whatsoever, Susie repeated a third time,? It helps to talk. I know. How are you feeling?? I still waited awhile longer before I finally stopped sucking my fingers and answered her question.

"I-I don't… I'm not sure. I think I'm going to be okay. I hope I never have to… have to…? I started sobbing. Doubt and fear and shame turned over inside me…

"Shhhh. Shhhh. Settle down. Here, hold me tight. Quiet.? She rubbed my shoulders to soothe the building tenseness.? You won't have to ever again. Once is too often as it is. I promise you, it will never happen again."

I said nothing, but lowered my head and listened to her heart, never wanting to leave her side.

"Susan?"

"Hmm?"

"I… I want you to promise me it won't happen again. Please?"

"I promise it will never happen again."

"No. That's not enough. Promise me it won't happen again."

Somehow, she knew what I meant. Lying there, cradling me in the total darkness, she knew exactly what I wanted. What I needed. Whispering so quietly that only a young girl wrapped tightly in her arms could hear her, she said:

"You will never be put through that horror again. You will never again suffer that humiliation. I make you my promise,? she paused and my heart pounded.? Abigail."

Abigail.

My name was Abigail. John Wyeth was gone, swept away by my ordeal, my new fragile emotions, my new body, my new reality. He stood on the other side of an abyss from which I would never, could never, cross back. I could look back on him, see him at a distance, even remember being him. But I wasn't him. Not anymore. And with a curiously comforting knowledge, I accepted that I didn't want to be him. John Wyeth was gone forever, and Abigail Wyeth had started her life. And I was Abigail Wyeth.

I whispered my name, hearing it from my own lips. At its sound, I found myself relaxing in her arms, even as I felt a thudding excitement in my chest at the sound of my new name. No, in my breast. My soft, lovely, feminine breast. For if there was ever any physical proof needed to verify the absolute certainty of who I was, that evidence was before me now, at that moment. I lay in the arms of a beautiful woman clad in only the bare essentials, as I no doubt was, and the stirrings I felt for her were of warmth, safety, sisterly familiarity, and the fervent wish she would be my best friend forever.

"Abigail,? I said again, in a low voice. I smiled at how easily the name rested on my ears. My smile slowly grew and spread to my heart. I felt a sense of completion.

I nodded, feeling sleepy. I had been put through the wringer, both by my new friends and by myself. A flutter of… no. I was tired, very tired. I wriggled down to my pillow, so Susie could lie down beside me or return to her bed. I was quietly happy when she snuggled down next to me and brought an arm over me.

"Good night, Abigail. Pleasant dreams.? She laid her head down, and I could feel her breath on the nape of my neck. Several minutes passed, and her breathing slowed and steadied, and she was asleep, her arm still around me, protecting me.