It was Christmas 1998

TW: sexual and physical violence, mental abuse, miscarriage

She told him how their baby passed from her body months after he stopped looking at her. She explained in minute detail how there were blood stains on her jeans and she cried in the bloodied bathtub. There was no birth.

She held him as he cried on her stomach. He said he never had known. She comforted this man who broke and squeezed her heart like oranges every chance he got over the last 3 years. If you call it trauma bonding that’s fair. It had been off and on and so on…

He picked her up in his father’s truck on Christmas Day 1998. He made a mix tape with songs for her. He sang “Hard to Say I’m Sorry,” by Az Yet. He wasn’t very good at singing but she soaked it all in as if he put sunscreen on her soul.

He did that special thing in the movie theater where she put her head on his shoulder and he put his head atop hers. He spoke out that he knew she was a feminist so he wanted to buy her ticket as a Christmas gift. She nervously tugged at her cash because she forgot to get more. In the concession line, someone made an interracial slur at them.

The movie was The Faculty. As the teens struggled with alien annihilators, he reached for her hand. It was tender and his hand was much bigger than hers. She felt safe but remembered he once punched her in the kidney in the movies. He had said he wanted to make her pee her pants. She didn’t believe him. But, maybe he wasn’t trying to hurt me?

Their hands brushed in the popcorn. She blushed. He whispered in her ear, “Have you gained weight “

She tugged at the hem of her blue top with razor wire detail. “I thought, “ he said, “I told you you were fine where you were at?” But, it wasn’t a question.

She squirmed in her seat, glancing up at the screen. “I’m normal. “ Thinking back, she had gotten very skinny for him. That’s what he liked. She felt she needed to defend herself. What was normal?

He seemed momentarily satisfied with her answer. He reached into the bag of popcorn and ate a chunk from his hand. The right hand was holding hers tighter. He commented how attractive one of the teachers in the movie was.

They drove in that gray truck through main streets of the city in the borderland between the United States and Mexico. She fumbled with her purse, nervous about the presents she had brought him. His mix tape continued. The city was it’s own gray, charcoal and heavy laden with clouds low in the atmosphere. It was cold and her shirt was thin. Her JNCO jeans were tight at the top and flared out.

He put the truck into park and killed the engine. There were picnic tables under a metal awning. A line of battered soldiers at attention. He opened his door and began to get out. She held her large black purse against her chest and stepped from the truck of a man who hated her.

He grabbed her hand and led her to a table, “You’re shivering, “ he held her in his long arms, “It’s been so long since I’ve held you.” He held from behind, swaying. He smelled absolutely enchanting.

They talked like that, in each other’s arms. The catching up turned deep into things of the past. He shivered against the ice. She held him closer. She whispered he loved him. He said he loved her. He kissed her forehead.

Then he mentioned how they’d never gotten pregnant in their time together. That his father had said she wanted to trap him. She shook her head no. The memories flooded into her mind. Our baby, she thought.

He lost his smile as she turned and looked into his brown eyes crying. His hands were firmly on her hips. “Remember when I took that pregnancy test? After you broke up with me I took another one but I was too nervous to tell you.”

He grabbed his luscious black hair, “What are you saying?”

“You told me to follow you behind the school,” she shook, “You said you had to make sure. You said you didn’t want me to have children with anyone.” She sobbed.

“I never said that.”

She continued, “You punched me in the stomach over and over, I was screaming but you didn’t stop. People walked by but nobody helped me.” She had released him and started pacing.

“I‘m sorry,” he spoke, and began to cry. He went to her and kneeled. He placed his face against her stomach.

She held him. She remembered. He was her monster and her love. She felt numb inside. She felt zoned out to his sobs. The ice continued to hit them.

They walked hand in hand to the truck. He turned up the heater as they idle. He kissed her passionately like sucking on a tomato.

She kissed him back. Her hands were wrapped up in his hair. They murmured and whispered sweet Inothings in the heated air. The apology cd continued on a loop.

The agony still persisted. She had flashes of stomach pains and tried to stop the tears. But, another memory so prevalent in her mind began pushing and tugging in her Amygdala.

He pulled her on top of him as they continued to lock lips. She fought it, the bad memories. She tried to focus on the rhythmic thrusting and the kissing. She rode along with him, matching his movements.

He intensified his humping. Their kisses became carnal. She in her memory was in the bed of this truck, he threw her backwards and her head hit the metal. Things were smoky and her brain was in and out.

She was in the hot truck on Christmas. Grinding and listening to his moans and his words. She was back in the bed of that truck and he was yanking her pants off.

Present day, Christmas day, he asked her if she wanted to get a hotel. But, she was back in the back and he was forcing his penis into a pure girl. She shuddered. The first time had been no concentration. He pushed her to go to a hotel. She got off of him and climbed into the passenger seat., “I said no.”