Reclaim my Soul

Ever wondered what it'd feel like to finally overcome a strong feeling that has taunted you all your life? Fear, anxiety, dejection? Ever wondered what it'd feel like for those strong feelings to be replaced by much more comforting feelings? Love, tranquility, tenderness or even something almost as insignificant as intimacy, just a little bit? Well, Jessie had wondered about these things all her life. Growing up in a broken and confusing home, where all she knew was instability. Her mother had died shortly after her birth. Well, that was one version of the story her father told her. The different versions of the story still didn't add up, even as she was older and able to comprehend things. At some point, she let it go. That was all she could do, since she didn't even have a single picture of the woman that birthed her. Her father had had a series of marriages, divorces and one too many girlfriends than Jessie could count as an eleven year old. He was barely home, and when he was, he would show up with a different woman each time, and would give Jessie the short explanation; "You can call her mommy, if you want." It was funny how just twenty percent or less of the women he had brought home within the time frame of eleven years gave little s**t about her. Some were either too busy, too nasty, always high or around for barely five seconds. The last one Jessie could remember was the nonchalant druggie who was home with her the night her father's debt collectors showed up at their doorstep looking for her father, who hadn't been home for almost two weeks—one of the longest periods the man had been gone from the house. Jessie didn't know these men, but they were different from the ones that usually came around to see her father. These men wore black suits. All of them. And they drove fancy cars, compared to the motorcycle men that usually visited her father. They had busted through the front door of the rundown apartment that was her home. Her first instinct was to hide. "What do you men want? My husband isn't home." The woman who Jessie knew as her 'umpteenth mother'—but never dared to call her that to her hearing—said to the suited men. One of the men who wasn't wearing dark sun shades waved two fingers at the men behind him, "Check around the house and see if he left a stash or something." His strange accent was very stand-offish, different from the usual southern drawl Jessie was used to. To her, the man sounded like he could be on television. "Hey. Stop! You can't go in there." Her umpteenth mother shouted and threw herself in the way of the men trying to force themselves into Jessie's father's bedroom. Nobody, not even Jessie was allowed inside that room. Jessie knew this. The eleven year old was breathing hysterically as she peeked at the scene from behind the couch. "Tear the place down if you have to." The man with the strange accent ordered again, and the other men sprang into action, pushing the woman out of the way as they forced themselves into the room. The man approached the woman and stared down at her, "your husband owes me, and he is nowhere on my radar. He's blinded my system from tracking him. The bloody cocksucker knew we were coming for him." The man said and clicked his tongue. "My husband left for business, I don't know who you bastards think you are to come into our home, tear down our door and rummage through our things." The woman sneered at the man. The room became dead quiet. A tongue-clicking sound came from one of the men standing at the entrance. Jessie never moved from her hiding spot behind the couch as she watched the scene play out. The man with the accent flared his nose and crouched down to grab the woman by her hair. "No one. I mean. No. One talks to me that way. Maybe I'll teach you a lesson, so you know never to talk to me in such a way." He said, pulling her up and then he threw her on the couch. They were now out of Jessie's line of sight and all she could hear now were the screams and cries of her stepmother. It went on for several minutes. At some point, the woman's cries died down as the men mumbled amongst themselves. "We found this, boss." One of the men said as he stepped out of the bedroom holding an opened suitcase in his hands. "Just some cash and arms. Not up to what he owes though." By this time, Jessie could no longer hear the sounds of her stepmother. "Did you search everywhere?" The man asked back aggressively. "Every corner, boss, but we can search again if you'd like," The other man responded. "Uh bloody hell! Go search again, you prick." He snapped at the men. "At once, boss." They said and scattered around the small space. It took a lot from Jessie to sit there and refrain from bawling her eyes out in violent sobs as those strange men tore the house down and hurt her stepmother. She thought she was still safe in her hiding spot, until one of the men pulled her out by the arm. "Look what we have here, boss." The man said, amusement lacing his voice. "Well, who knew? The bloody arse has a son." The leader said with a smile as he stared Jessie down. Jessie's father didn't care much about her well-being, and he also certainly didn't give her the chance to be a girl, one of the reasons being that he wanted a son and not a daughter. He thought and made clear that women were weak, and all they were good for was to hang around men, pleasing them and doing as they were told. So what did he do? He dressed her up as a boy and even made her get male haircuts and reminded her every chance he got that she would have been better off if she were a boy. He didn't bother to have any more children after her because he thought it would be too much work and way too expensive taking care of a house full of kids. Soon, it became a norm for Jessie, she kept up the facade. In a world like hers, it was easier to be a boy or look like a boy. It kept the bullies away at school. "Boss, I'm pretty sure this one's a girl." One of the men pointed out, too sure of himself. Everyone stared at him puzzled, but not further asking how he was so sure she was a girl. "Hmm. Well, you certainly do not look like a girl dressed like that." The leader said as he approached Jessie with a look on his face that made her heart beat so fast that the speed seemed impossible. "But you do look like a very pretty boy. Tell me, what is your name, girl?" "J-Jessie." She whimpered "That's a pretty name," The leader said. She began twisting her hand out of the grip of the man holding her. She then shifted her gaze to the couch where her stepmother's lifeless body was, her dress bunched up around her waist, exposing her thighs and lady parts. The leader followed her gaze and frowned. "I apologize for my brutality and the indecency." He said with a wave of his hand, making the man release his hold on Jessie's wrist at once as he moved to redress her unmoving stepmother. The leader then puckered his forehead, "I see you didn't inherit your mother's loudmouth." He paused and examined Jessie closely, squinting his eyes. "In fact, you didn't inherit anything at all from her." He came to stand in front of her and placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin, then lifted her head. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'd never do that to a kid." Jessie glanced at her stepmother again. The woman hadn't moved at all since she was pulled out of her hiding spot. "My stepmom. Is sh...is she dead?" She asked the man, concerned for the woman and frightened. He raised a brow, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Ah. So she's not your real mother. That explains a lot. Well, my men just shut her up for a bit there." He shrugged and crouched down to her level. "Tell me Jessica, do you know where your father is?" He asked and she shook her head, tears streaming down her face. He sighed loudly and placed his hand on her shoulder, "Now you have to come with me until your father returns." He eyed her stepmother's still form and continued, "I can't leave you here with that, she's too doped up and beat up, she may not even make it through the night, it's not safe for a young lass like yourself." He didn't give Jessie a chance to say no, he pulled her out of the house and left with her. That was exactly eight years ago. Jessie never saw that house again, she never saw her stepmother again. The woman could be dead for all she knew. Her father never returned like she'd expected, and Fabian—the man who took her from her home as collateral for her father's debt—promised to kill her father in front of her if he ever showed up. Fabian's estate became her home. The only home she had, and Fabian became the only family she had. All those years, she still felt trapped between the walls of his estate, like a prisoner. He was a powerful man, wealthy even, but it was no news that he got his wealth and power from dirty business and dealings. And as she became older, she got to understand better what his business was all about, even more so her father's, before he disappeared. "This life is your life, Jessica, you were born into this, you were raised in this, you are surrounded by this, and no matter how far or fast you run, you can never outrun the dirt." Fabian had said to her once when she tried to escape the estate. He provided everything she needed and even made her start dressing up as a girl, but it was only because she became one of his love interests along the way, as she grew older, more feminine and more attractive. This was one of the reasons he provided everything she needed and some, then he made her off limits to the rest of the filthy men in the estate. So she hadn't thought about escaping since then. Until this very evening. The night of her eighteenth birthday. What made this day completely different from all other days wasn't just the party Fabian threw for her to mark her finally becoming a legal adult, but the fact that he had finally claimed her as his. On his bed and his body. He had taken away her "chastity" as he had clearly put it in his very British accent. He had waited for her to become a legal adult as he had promised her he would. "I won't touch or defile you until you come of age." He had said to her, "and I promise that I will kill anybody that touches or harms you." The time finally came, and he didn't wait a minute when he returned from his trip at noon. The hallways were decorated down to the last walls for her party and she was dolled up for the occasion. He didn't mess up her "beautiful" blonde hair and "pretty" makeup as he thrusted slowly into her and ridded her of her "chastity". When he was done, he had asked her to clean herself up and go have fun at her party and that he would make sure it would be more pleasurable at night. Some men had arrived at the estate for business, so he hurried away and left her in a mortified state as she washed herself up and cursed the day he found her. She knew she couldn't let it happen again, so she started cooking up an escape plan. Jessie knew she wouldn't get far, especially as she was the celebrant at the huge party happening downstairs. She blinked away tears as she stared at the bottle of sleeping pills Fabian usually forced her to take each night to keep her from sleepwalking. She thought about what would happen if she just downed a few of the pills all at once. What would happen if I were dead? She thought. It didn't matter, because she wouldn't be here to find out. So, without hesitation, she grabbed the bottle of pills and went to a bathroom just down the hallway, one which no one really used. It made sense because she didn't want to be found until the pills had taken effect. As she closed the bathroom door, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, thinking of every reason she didn't want to be alive. It was clear that not a single day had gone by in her miserable life when she was genuinely happy. Forgetting the pretend happiness she usually put up, just for show. Just so, Fabian wouldn't say she was being ungrateful. Turning away from her taunting reflection, she finally tossed the dry pills down her throat. The pills were so dry, they were hard to swallow, so she twisted around quickly to drink water from the tap for an easier swallow. She didn't care for the unpleasant taste of the pills as she worked her throat to swallow. She slouched over the sink, waiting and waiting for the drowsiness of the pills to engulf her. She had taken the pills so many times before. Fabian always ensured she took them under supervision, so she would be out cold all night, and not strolling in a haze around the house at midnight. But she had never taken this many all at once and it wasn't long before she started to lose her senses. Her fingers drummed fast on the hard surface of the ceramic sink and her eyes began to feel too heavy. She felt her mind and body slow down. She needed to take a seat, but she couldn't figure out how to move her lower body to carry the rest of her. And just as she raised her head again, the reflection of a man in the mirror appeared, causing her to jump. The man was unfamiliar, he didn't look like he was from around. He looked young and lost. Just like her. The man stared at her through the mirror with an unreadable expression. He didn't say a word. She didn't say a word. She couldn't move her lips even if she wanted to. The staring went on for several seconds. Then, the man shifted his gaze to her hands and they landed on the bottle she tightly gripped, and slowly released, just as her eyes started to droop further down. "s**t!" The guy hissed, rushing to her, he grabbed her. The last thing Jessie could remember of that night was the strange man's face, his piercing blue eyes and how they penetrated her soul just as she began to fall.