Are You There, God? It's Me, Margot

CW: sexual abuse, murder

“Are you there, God? It’s me again, Margot. I know I ask an awful lot of you, and sometimes it feels as though you aren’t listening, maybe you don’t care. But I would like to ask you for just one night, one night of peace, please.” In the beat-up shack called home, Margot sat in her bed, fingers laced in prayer with a once again, futile request. God did not answer her prayer that night, and the frail 14-year-old did not receive her one night of peace.

Margo’s eyes shot open when she heard the sound of footsteps, through the closed door she could see the darkness of his footprints in the hallway light. Tears began to flow down her face as she heard the door open, gripping her quilt, Margot closed her eyes and tried to be somewhere else, someone else.

His weight as he sat on the bed next to her made her entire body tense up, she could smell the foul scent of liquor on his breath as he placed his hand on his hip, she shuttered in dread at the feeling of his hands on her once again. He said her name once. “Margot?” But she dared not answer, she kept her eyes closed, her body in the fetal position, and tried not to whimper out loud as he spoke. His filthy hands moved along her body as he spoke, “Have I told you how much you look like your mother?”

Yes. Every time. Margot thought back to her late mother and the tragedy that led to the tragedy that was her life. Three and a half years ago Margot had lived a different life, her mother was an accountant at a successful law office and Ted was, well, not this. He used to be kind and fun, he used to go to work every day rather than hitting the bottle. Margot was genuinely happy when her mother married Ted, after all, he made her mother happy, he told funny jokes and took her rollerblading, and she even got to be the ring bearer at their wedding when she was eight. Margot had never met her father, and for two happy years, the three of them lived together as a family and she felt like she finally had a father in Ted. If only she knew what he was capable of, she wouldn’t have let herself get so attached, she wouldn’t have let herself love him as a father. This love, this dependence, this conflicted swirl of emotions made his betrayal all the more painful.

As a young child, everyone would always tell her that she had her mother’s face, something Margot took great pride in, as her mother was a natural beauty. Margot saw that they had the same dark hair and green eyes, she saw how the shape of their jaws pointed but she never truly saw her mother’s face in her reflection until a full year had gone since her mother’s passing.

Margot had gotten out of her bed one summer morning and as she was walking past the mirror she paused, her heart leaped into her throat, mom. That was the summer when all her clothes suddenly became too small, the summer when Ted quit his job after becoming her legal guardian, after the accident. Margot felt taller, she could see the outline of her mother’s cheekbones in her reflection, her mother’s frame peeking out as hip bones from where there used to be baby fat, and her long legs exaggerated by the shorts that she had rapidly grown out of. Seeing all of this, her mother reflected back at her made a memory flash through her mind, the last time she saw her mother they had said goodbye, but Margot had not known it would be a forever goodbye. “I love you Maggie” her mother had said, using Margot’s nickname as she kissed her head and walked out the door, the next time Margot saw her mother was at the funeral. That was also the summer that Ted noticed this as well, the end of her old life and the beginning of a living hell.

The first time he told her that she looked like her mother, it felt like a compliment, but not the kind a father would give, something different. Margot, who was still going by her mother’s loving nickname Maggie, shrugged it off, but she could feel Tim watching her more closely from then on, it was not long after when he first came to her room at night. That was the night that Maggie died, and Margot couldn’t stand to think of the name ever again. Maggie was the innocence, the illusion, the child. She had decided that next morning, digesting the sight of her blood-stained sheets, the only proof that the events taken place the night before were actually real, that Maggie had died that night. Margot was the one who gathered her sheets and threw them in the trash, preferring to sleep on her raw mattress. From then on, her life was a confusing series of surreal events, things that no child should have to endure. Margot thought about the police, but Tim had instilled a fear in her that kept her silent.

Silent even as he violated every part of her being, Margot became something different. Her friends all disappeared after her mother. Her life had become all about trying to be invisible. In school, Margot was bullied and fought a lot, her grades also slipped but everyone believed Tim’s constant excuse for her. After all, she was a troubled youth that had lost her mother.

Margot has become so accustomed to silence that she didn’t even realize she was being spoken to, as she sat in homeroom staring at the wall imagining another life. She looked at him, puzzled “I’m sorry?”

“I was just asking if you knew where room 153 was, I have English 201 next and this school is a maze compared to the little building we had in Pennsylvania.” Margot realized that this was the same poor victim of the dreaded ritual of “Standing up and introducing yourself” that seemed more like a form of torture than anything else. Margot actively zoned out as Ryan struggled his way through a painfully awkward introduction. He hadn’t been there long enough to recognize her as a social outcast. Margot looked over his schedule and realized they had a few classes together and decided to show him the way.

Ryan never really caught on to the fact that Margot was an outcast, in fact, quite the opposite. The two became quick friends, and for a few beautiful hours a day, Margot got to pretend to live a normal life and laugh with a friend. Ryan was a goofy kind of boy, he was sweet and had very handsome features, he told jokes and kept Margo laughing. Soon the two were inseparable in the safety of those halls, rumors spread, most of the school assumed they were a couple, but the two remained that they were best friends. Margot knew she wouldn’t be able to handle a boyfriend, Tim would probably kill them both.

Margot felt so under thumb that she often worried that Tim might actually go through with his threats to pull her out of school and homeschool so they could “spend more time together.” Ryan seemed content with their friendship as it were, and in the nightmare her life was, Margot knew she couldn’t risk complicating the one good thing in her life. Ryan had bold blue eyes and there was no denying that the short, wavy blonde hair and strong jawline were attractive features, in fact, there were plenty of girls who vied for his attention. But like clockwork, Ryan waited for Margot to arrive at school each day and walked to homeroom together, usually talking about a book they were reading or a comic he was into. It meant so much to Margot that he chose her, out of everyone, with all her damage- without knowing, without having to know, with a kind of understanding that surpassed anything she could have asked for, he was there for her.

Home was a stranger to the place it used to be; the bright rooms were darkened by the drawn curtains, the mess of liquor bottles and filth lined the floors, and every surface and piled of unpaid bills stacked themselves on the kitchen table. Margot was trying to be stealthy as she entered the house, Tim was in his usual perch in front of the TV, bottle in hand. She opened and closed the door softly and began working her way through the maze of bottles, realizing she had failed at not drawing attention to herself as she accidentally kicked a bottle causing a chain reaction of “clinks” with all the bottles on the floor.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and…urg, gurb…” He trailed off in a drunken stupor and relief washed down Margo’s spine as she realized she would not have to put up with Tim that night. Margot picked up a half-empty bottle of liquor from the ground and placed it within Tim’s hand, which habitually gripped the bottle and without opening his eyes Tim chugged the bottle dry in a few seconds, falling to his side. Margot realized at that moment that she had bought herself a night of peace, and something clicked at that moment for Margot, if Tim wanted to drink himself to death- she would be glad to help him.

The local liquor store clerk was actually used to seeing Margot when Tim sent her on runs, so it was an easy task, taking his card and replenishing his liquor stash, and putting the card back in his wallet all the while he laid in his own vomit. Margot liked seeing him this way, a fat pile of soggy shit on the floor, she helped him keep himself in an alcohol-induced coma for weeks. It was the most peace she’d had in a long time. Ryan even noticed the difference in her demeanor, without Ted in her life Margo could see herself having a happy life. She just needed to figure out how to keep him in a drunken coma until she was sixteen and she didn’t have to rely on the monthly settlement checks that came to Ted from her mother’s accident, a fortune that was in no way worth the loss of her mother, yet she knew that once the turned 18 would finally go to her, then she could legally evict Ted from her mothers home to die in the streets where he belonged.

Margot and Ryan started finding more reasons to hang out together and Margot was starting to think of the possibility of having an actual boyfriend in her life. He was munching on an apple in the cafeteria when she caught herself staring at him, when he looked up and made eye contact, she looked away. “What's up?”        He asked her?

“What?” She asked defensively, and then quickly replied “nothing.”

Ryan let out a half chuckle “Okay weirdo.” He said as he tossed a piece of celery from his tray at her, the both of him laughing.

Margot could see herself holding his hand one day, maybe even kissing him, that would be nice. But she shuttered at the thought of him ever finding out her secret, that she’d been had, that she was used. Even weeks after the last time he touched her, Margot could feel Ted’s filthy paws clawing at her, the stench of his breath, that empty, shameful feeling followed her no matter where she went, it turned her stomach.

That day Margot walked into her house cautious as usual, ready to slip Ted’s card back into his wallet and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand to magically appear when he woke, to push him back into a state of drunken unconsciousness. To her dismay, Ted was awake, not quite sober, but not drunk enough, and his focus was on her.

“Where have you been Maggie?” Ted asked, standing from the place on the couch that had a permanent impression of where his body laid from sweat and filth.

“School.” She said, looking at the floor. She flinched at her old nickname but said nothing.

Ted touched her face with his sweaty palm, rubbing his disgusting hand along her face, his touch made her skin crawl and when he moved his hand, she felt the same sensation on her face as if a slug had left a trail of slime on her skin. “School, huh? And do you want to explain why my card is missing from my wallet then?”

Margot sighed and pulled the wallet out of her pocket and quickly pulled the bottle of whiskey out of her purse as well, shoving them both into Ted’s grubby hands. “Next time you ask me to pick up your booze for you, try and remember.” Her lie caught him off guard.

“Oh.” He seemed taken aback as he thanked her. “You’re such a good girl Maggie.” He breathed as he leaned into her, as he opened up the bottle. “Bottoms up.” He said, handing her the bottle offering her a drink.

“No thanks,” Margot said, pushing the bottle away.

“Have a drink with me.” He demanded, now shoving the bottle into her face.

“Fine” Margo barely spoke in defeat as she put the bottle to her mouth and took a big gulp of the whiskey, it tasted spicy and felt like fire in her belly. Margot could hardly care about that because Ted had his hand on her head, his greasy fingers in her hair.

“You’re such a good girl.” He said again, “just like your mother.”

His words brought that familiar dread into her spine, her stomach dropped, she knew what could happen next and she wiggled out of his grasp muttering something about homework as she practically ran into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and slipping out the window. In the alley next to her house, she could hear him calling her name, and she hoped he would decide to turn his attention to the booze and away from her while she found a place to let the situation calm down.

Ryan lived five blocks up the street and everything in her wanted to see him and to cry, but she couldn’t handle the way she knew he would look at her if he knew the truth about her. She could feel the slug-slimy filth where Ted had just touched her face, and she knew that the filth she felt extended all over her body, inside of her body, and that no amount of scrubbing and bathing would ever lift the permanent stain that had been left on her. She felt that she did not deserve Ryan’s friendship and that she was far too gone to have a boyfriend, maybe ever. The thought of holding hands was nice, and maybe even kissing, but she dreaded the thought of being touched and feared that intimacy would always remind her of the perverse life with her step-father. Margot knew that she was broken, the whiskey-fire in her belly bringing her fear to the surface and Margot knew at that moment that she would never allow that disgusting creature to touch her ever again. Her plan of keeping Ted sedated had backfired, now it seemed as there was only one escape.

There was a bottle of prescription sleeping pills in her mother’s vacated bedroom, not even Ted dared set foot in that room, which made sense to Margot, as she realized how Ted probably couldn’t stand to see any of her mother’s things after the way he’d perverted her memory. Margot waited until nightfall before she slipped back into her room, the house was quiet, and she crept into the hallway outside of the living room to see Ted passed out in his usual position on the couch, the bottle of whiskey laying open and sideways on the floor. Margo didn’t dare breathe as she crept towards her stepfather and picked up the bottle that was surprisingly still a quarter full, having been consumed and spilled on the carpet.

Her mother’s room still smelled of Daisy, her favorite perfume, a sweet floral smell. Tears welled up in her eyes as memories of her mother flooded her thoughts. She shuttered to fathom what her mother would think of her now, her once innocent little Maggie now a damaged shell of the girl she had once been, planning her to kill the man her mother had married. Margot choked back the emotion and closed herself off to everything as she had adapted to years ago, she located the bottle of pills and opened twenty capsules one by one, emptying the powdered contents into the liquor bottle and swirling it around until they had dissolved.

Margot placed the bottle in Ted’s hand as he slept, and his reflex kicked in immediately as he placed the bottle to his lips and drained the very last drop. His eyes met hers for a brief second before passing out, and Margot smiled as she watched him sink into his very last slumber. Margot sat next to the dying body of the man that had killed her innocence and once again she said a prayer.

“Are you there, God? It’s me again. I guess I got tired of waiting around for that miracle and I went ahead and made it happen myself. I guess what they say is true, you do work in mysterious ways.”