The gift

CW: This story contains themes or mentions of childhood abuse, sexual abuse, physical violence, and trauma.

“Dear Olivia, happy birthday! This is for you! Open the box!” Carl said with a big, bright smile.

He came closer, winking, and handed his present to Olivia. Carl’s lips trembled in a smile, and Olivia knew that something was wrong. The man had always behaved strangely. But he never gave gifts to anyone, it was something like his principle.

“What’s the catch, Carl?” Olivia asked.

But he didn’t seem to be at all embarrassed. Man smiled as easily and pointed to the small, colorful box in the blonde’s hands. Not wanting to waste more time on conversation, Olivia opened the present, said “Thanks Carl!”, and showed him out of her office.

Olivia McGill pulls the purple ribbon towards herself, and the box opens. Butterflies fly out of her, and a coworker’s contented laughter is heard behind the young woman. But her vision starts to blur, and her hands shake. This is not the kind of gift she wanted for her thirtieth birthday.

“Carl, get them away from me,” Olivia whispers and Carl laughs even louder.

“Carl, please,” Miss McGill repeats louder, and the man stops laughing and looks at the dejected Olivia with confusion.

“Olivia, what happened?” - Carl asks, but in response, he only gets a tear-stained look and wild fear in his eyes.

The reaction was surprising for him. Carl tries to approach Olivia, but she starts to shake even more and flies out of the room, bursting into tears.

The man runs out after her, but the girl quickly disappears into the restroom and slams the door behind her.

***

Olivia falls to the floor, exhausted. Her thoughts haunt her. Years of working with a psychologist have turned out to be wasted time.

As soon as the young woman saw the butterflies, she realized that the memories could not be erased from her head just like that.

Mom is having sex with another client, who is becoming more aggressive with each passing second. She hears slaps - Mom will have bruises again. There are more men in the kitchen, waiting for their turn. Olivia tries not to listen, but the moans are too loud. They are etched in her memory and are still repeated very clearly.

Footsteps are heard, and the little girl presses herself against the headboard of her bed. The door opens.

“What, brat, tell me what you got at school,” the rough voice of Mom's pimp Brian pulls Olivia out of her trance. She answers quietly.

“I.. I.. got an F in language art,” the girl whispers, hiding her face in her hands.

The man suddenly leans forward, grabbing her by the hair. Olivia wheezes and squirms, but Brian holds on tight, not going to let go. She begs him to stop pulling her hair, but the man doesn’t listen. He continues to curse loudly and drag her out of the room.

And they are here again. Basement.

The man pushes Olivia into the wall, and she slowly slides down it. The little girl wraps her small hands around her bruised knees and prays that this will end quickly. Olivia doesn’t remember her arms being grabbed, leaving huge bruises there. She only remembers the disgusting squelching sounds when she steps on the old, dirty carpet. The little girl remembers only the bastard's vile grin and the many insects already climbing on her.

“You'll get out of here when you've counted all the insects that live here," Brian says locking the door. Olivia cries, roars, screams, and bangs her fist on the door. But no one hears her. Or they hear but ignore the little girl.

They let her out only the next evening, and she spent another day in the basement again.

Damn, it would be better if a young woman didn't remember anything.

***

Tears roll down Olivia's cheeks. She tries to calm herself down, but she can't, and as if in delirium she whispers, “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver...” 

“This is Oliver, open up!” There is a knock on the door. Oliver enters the restroom and quickly notices Miss McGill's hysterical state.

“Olivia,” Her twin brother calls, but she does not answer, continuing to desperately whisper, “Get them away, get them away, get them away please, please, please...” 

Oliver comes up and takes Olivia's hand.

“Olivia, you're with me. I'm with you” The twin brother says loudly, and she stops choking. Her gaze becomes more meaningful, but the tears do not go away.

“I… Oliver, Oliver, you're here,” Olivia cries, clinging to her brother's wrists.

The young man allows her to calm down. She wheezes, sobs, and mutters something under her breath for another half hour.

Olivia gradually calms down and begins to speak incoherently.

“Mom. She... she's disgusting. I remember all the moments with her; I understand she is a monster! Oliver, I am grateful to you for her killing and putting the knife in the hand of that bastard Brian. I was so afraid that the police wouldn't believe us and wouldn't accuse him of murder.” Oliver looks at her and nods, making it clear that he is listening and that Olivia can continue talking.

Miss McGill takes a deep breath and blurts out in one breath.

“Brian. I remember when I came home from school with a bad mark, he always locked me in the basement. I remembered those insects. Cockroaches, maggots, worms, spiders, but the butterflies were the worst for me. I.. I.. I'm still afraid of butterflies, Oliver.” Panic filled Olivia's body again, and she again had a feeling of suffocation.

“Breathe. Olivia, breathe. That's it,” Oliver squeezes the young woman's shoulders, patting her back. A new batch of tears on her face drives him into a rage.

“Oliver.. I.. am so glad you are with me,” Olivia whispers inaudibly.

But he understands. He gives in closer and allows him to do what she needs so much - to hug. Olivia embraces his body, clinging to it like the last bottle of water in hot weather.

The clothes from such a grip seem to be bursting at the seams, but now neither of them cares. Now they are immersed in each other and their childhood memories.

“If such a possibility were possible, then I would resurrect this bitch and kill her again, only more painfully. So that she suffers like you,” Oliver suddenly opens, and Olivia agrees with him for the first time, mentally adding: so that this bitch suffers like us.

***

“Olivia, are you okay?” Renee, Olivia's friend, knocked on the door “Please open up!”

“Yes, everything is okay,” Miss McGill said, opening the door

“Are you not alone here? Who were you talking to? I heard a man's voice” Renee did not lag, carefully examining the restroom.

“I am alone here” Olivia went to the mirror to fix her makeup. Oliver smiled at her from the mirror.