Page 150 of Lessons in Cruelty
No. No!
Jesus, no, this isn’t fucking happening!
My heart is thundering inside my chest, every muscle on my body clenching in terror. I can’t breathe, can’t scream.
Can’t. Fucking. Look. Away.
Uncle Lenny lifts his head until his manic, blood-shot blue eyes lock with mine. I mentally will him to vanish, will him not to rise further so I don’t have to look at his chapped lips, or the diseased, nearly toothless mouth beyond.
I still can’t move.
Fear and panic swirl together, making me feel dizzy despite lying on my back. I’m trapped in my body, forced to stare through slitted eyes at the demon huddled at the foot of the bed.
Waiting in terror for him to climb onto the mattress.
My throat vibrates as I try to scream, but barely a whimper escapes.
Help! Help! Bastian, please, please, Bastian! Help!
My body unlocks just as I manage a harrowing moan. I sit up with an awful gasp, grabbing my legs and dragging them close, trying to get them away from the hands I knew were seconds away from latching on.
But there’s no one at the foot of the bed.
I throw my head to the side, scanning Bastian’s gloomy bedroom.
Empty.
It was just a nightmare.
Except I was awake. I know I was. My eyes were open the whole fucking time.
Then there’s the smell lingering in my nose.
Stale cigarettes, cheap beer.
The tingle of phantom hands still dragging over my skin, fingernails scraping—
No.
I’m in Bastian’s bed.
Bastian’s house.
Safe.
As safe as a lamb can be in a wolf’s den.
A sharp pain spears through my temples. Then again. I exhale, draw in a lungful of air, exhale again. I’d been holding my breath, listening for the sound of someone scuttling away.
Oh, God, that hurts.
It feels like someone’s trying to ring my skull like the Liberty Bell.
And that’s before I start sobbing.
But I only let it go on for a minute or two before I drag myself back toward myself. I slap my face a few times, swipe tears out of my eyes, and force a calm breath deep into my lungs.
Uncle Lenny can’t hurt me anymore.
