Breathe.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
In. Out. In. Out.
Breathe.
I stare at the overhead bulb through the plastic eyes. I strain to keep my eyes open. Because when I close them, I am filled with disturbing images.
Breathe. In and out. Again.
A tummy grumbles. Whose is it? Mine? No. My whole body is focused on breathing and staring. I couldn’t possibly summon a grumble. It must be somebody else’s. Thinking clouds my mind. I almost forget to breathe.
Breathe. In and out. Over and over.
I want to swallow. I try to swallow. I fail. I try to breathe. I can’t.
Suck – She says. Throw up – My body says. My words don’t take a sonic form. A vacuum hose is thrust in my mouth. It makes funny swooshing sucking sounds. I am distracted. A whimper escapes my mouth along with a trickle of saliva. Something is streaming down my right cheek. An involuntary tear. I forget to breathe again. I gag and choke. No. I choke and then gag. I want to die. My body convulses.
Ok. We are going to try one more time. The last time. If you don’t behave, I am afraid, you will have to eat using tubes for the rest of your life – She says
This is not a torture. I would rather be tortured. She removes five or six different items from my mouth. A rubber clamp. Cotton. A metal prob. The vacuum hose. A drilling machine. A tongue twister.
I clean my mouth. I rinse, gurgle and spit out. It looks bloody. It looked different in the morning. I rinse again. I am taking my time. The right side of my mouth is numb. So I dribble. I lie down again. I wait for the assault.
The orgy in my mouth resumes.
I breathe. In and out. Again and again. And again.
View from my hammock
12 years ago