Aunt Martha

A man confronts the woman who raped him when he was 12 years old.

AUNT MARTHA

PART ONE

PRELUDE

Rick stared up at the ceiling as he lay on his bed. The bedroom was stuffy, almost stifling. He watched the ceiling fan as it spun, accompanied by a barely audible squeak. It was almost hypnotic. It was very late at night and Rick was hoping his Aunt Martha would pass out on the couch downstairs. Martha was Rick's Aunt by marriage to his Uncle Paul. She was not a blood relative.

But then Rick heard her walking around downstairs. The rhythmic tok, tok tok of her heels echoed throughout the large empty house. Rick held his breath as she came up the stairs and down the hallway. He hoped she was going to her bedroom, instead she suddenly stopped outside the bedroom door.

Rick pulled the sheets up around his body in anticipation of her coming in. But when the bedroom door slowly creaked open, Rick's heart sank. She stumbled in clumsily. He could hear the ice clinking in her glass as she walked towards him, stumbling once more. Rick tried to pretend he was asleep. But he knew it would do no good. He turned his head away and shut his eyes tightly. But she stood at the bedside, ogling him.

Rick felt the bed sink in as she sat down on it. She reached under the sheets and groped his thigh. Her breathing became labored. Her breath was warm and reeked of alcohol. This caused Rick to wrinkle his nose. She suddenly ripped the sheets away and pulled down his underwear. Rick tried his best not to lose his composure. But he could not help the sob that escaped him.

Aunt Martha just hushed him as she climbed on top and straddled him. Being a tall and voluptuous woman she easily able to hold Rick's thin body down. Her moist and sticky body pressing roughly against his. She placed her hand firmly on Rick's chest, blood red nails digging into his flesh. Aunt Martha's thrusts became rougher and more intense.

Rick held his breath and clenched his fists. He stared up at the ceiling fan. It's almost hypnotic spinning offering him some respite. He let go and allowed himself to become lost in it's dizzying blur. And for a brief moment he was someplace else. But that night at just 12 years old. Rick's Aunt Martha stole from him what remained of his boyhood innocence.

Aunt Martha

Part Two

Confrontation

It took a great deal of courage for Rick to finally come forward and tell his parents what had happened.

And it was from this moment on that a curse was set upon Rick's family. Rick's admission of Aunt Martha's deplorable act would forever drive a schism through his family. The fighting and arguing was endless. As Rick endured many a sleepless night listening to his parents yelling at one another. Each one blaming the other, or someone else in the family. “This is the fault of your milquetoast brother!” “You should have said something!” “I never saw anything wrong!” “Maybe we never should have had children!” Rick would wrap his pillows around his head, in a desperate attempt to drown out the yelling and screaming. All the while the one person who needed help was being completely ignored. His parents acted strangely around him, at times behaving like he wasn't even there. Holidays and family gatherings would never be the same, as they were now fractured and sullen. Rick tried his best to block out the fighting and screaming. He clenched his eyes tightly shut, but the tears still flowed. This was all his fault.

It was hard to say how and when it all started. When it went from sweet and innocent to malicious and lecherous. Aunt Martha adored her little Ricky. She ran her fingers through his sandy blonde locks, and tickled him all over. She always bought him the most grandiose gifts for his birthday and Christmas. She attended all his soccer games and was the loudest voice cheering him on. She would rub his shoulders after practice and kiss his scraps and bruises. She applied sunscreen on him at the Beach and taught him how to swim. Often wrapping her arms around his body to support him as he struggled against the ocean waves. She would frequently whisk him away for ice cream or a round or two of mini golf. Aunt Martha would tease Rick about all the girlfriends he would have when he got a little older. But would remind him that she would always be his number one girl.

And yet all the while not one member of Rick's family ever spoke up or tried to put to a stop to it. They often looked the other way, or deemed it as harmless. They made excuses for Aunt Martha's behavior. They said it was nothing to worry about., that she was just a very gregarious person. Aunt Martha was known for being confrontational and boisterous and no one wanted to create a scene by talking to her about it. The adults in Rick's family had failed him. Including his oblivious Dad and unobtrusive Mother.

It had been over 20 years since Rick last saw his Aunt Martha. He heard she had fallen gravely ill and likely did not have much time left. A family member told Rick that she wanted to see him. Rick thought about his Aunt Martha and everything she had put him and his family through. She had never come forward to apologize or even admit she did anything wrong. Maybe now on her deathbed she would finally take responsibility for what she did. Maybe Rick could finally get the closure he so desperately wanted.

Rick walked into the hospital on a cold and balmy day. His mind was a unsettling whirlwind of emotions. His courage began to slip away as he once again felt like that scrawny 12 year old boy. He decided to buy himself some time so he took the stairs. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, the echo filling the stairwell. Rick trudged up the stairs slowly until he finally reached the 8^th floor.

Upon throwing open the door he noticed the hall was mostly empty, and it was strangely quiet for a hospital. He walked down the long hall looking for room 818. His mouth was dry and he began to perspire. And there it was 818. Rick stepped in and just as quickly stepped out. For he was sure he was in the wrong room. That couldn't possibly be his Aunt. He checked the name on the door Murphy, Martha. It was her. Rick stepped back in and looked upon her. She was totally unrecognizable.

Her once brilliant mane of flowing red hair was now reduced to a few random tufts of scraggly gray locks. Her face was pale and drawn and she appeared to be considerably older than 52. Her curvy body had withered away to almost nothing. Rick wondered how she could possibly even be alive in this state. She was dreadful to look at. A myriad of tubes and wires were connected to her emaciated body. Machines hummed and beeped along together almost rhythmically, artificially prolonging her life. The scene reminded Rick of one those of old black and white horror movies.

Rick stepped closer. He saw her bony chest slowly rising and falling. She must have sensed someone was there as her eyes slowly fluttered open. She looked at Rick, a look of confusion washed over her face. But then she realized who he was. Her thin pale lips parted “Ricky” her voice was barely audible. She smiled at him revealing a mostly toothless mouth. A rush of empathy overcame Rick. “Hi, how are you? Sorry dumb question.” Martha only laughed in response, or at least tried to.

Rick took a step back and grabbed a chair and sat next to her bed. She opened her hand extending long bony fingers. Rick hesitated but placed his hand in hers. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, she was very cold. “I am so glad you came.” “Me too.” Answered Rick. “So” began Rick. The nervousness in his voice evident. “I think there is something you have to say to me?” “What do you mean?” Martha asked with bewilderment in her tone. Rick adjusted himself in his seat as he became increasingly uncomfortable. “Well...about what happened. You know many years ago.” But Aunt Martha only stared back at Rick, looking more confused.

Rick's nervousness began to transition into irritation. “What you did to me. That night when I was 12.” But Aunt Martha simply looked even more puzzled. Which caused Rick's patience to began to fade. Aunt Martha's eyes grew wide. She glared at Rick before it finally sank in. “Oh that night!” She exclaimed with labored exasperation. “That was so long ago, ancient history.” She turned her head away, shaking her head and letting out a raspy laugh.

Rick let her hand go and stood up at her bedside. She turned her head back in Rick's direction. “Is that it? Asked Rick. “What more do you want me to say?” Martha responded. Rick could feel his self control begin to slip away. “What you did to me. Has stayed with me for over 20 years. It has burned inside of me. Haunting me all my life! Possessing my life!” “What is it you want from me? Appalled Rick answered with thunderous rage. “What do I want?! What do you think I want?! I want closure! I want you to admit what you did! I want you to confess and take responsibility! Not just for what you did to me, but to our family as well” Aunt Martha stared at Rick, looking dismayed. Rick continued to unload. “I want you to apologize! But most of all I want to see some sort of regret, some remorse, a sign of humanity...”

But Rick was cut off from his rant when house keeping entered the room. Rick's face was red. Veins throbbed in his forehead, and his chest heaved. Rick stared incredulously at the house keeping lady. She must have felt his eyes burning through the back of her head as she stopped and turned to Rick.

“Is now a bad time?” “Yes” Rick answered in amazement. “Now is a very bad time!” “OK, I will come back later” She left without looking at Rick again.

Rick turned to Aunt Martha who was now staring blankly at the wall in front of her. Rick walked slowly over to his Aunt's bedside. “Well?” He asked in a demanding voice. Aunt Martha turned to face Rick. “Oh Ricky” She said. “This isn't why I asked you to come here.” “This, is the only reason why I came here!” “Ricky I...” “Don't call me that!” Rick snapped back in anger. Whatever bit of empathy or compassion Rick had when he first walked into his Aunt's hospital room was now gone. Whatever hope he had was now crushed and forever lost. For he now understood the type of person she truly was, she was a monster.

Aunt Martha shook her head. “I don't know what to say” Rick, now composed stared at her coldly. “I know what to say.” “ You are nothing more than a wretched deplorable person. You ruined my childhood. You forever scared my family.” Aunt Martha listened intently to Rick's words. “I wish you never came into my life. I hate you.” Aunt Martha now had a look of shock on her face. She reached out to him, extending her hand. Rick spoke his final words to her. “And you can go to hell.” With that Rick turned around and left. His Aunt Martha called out after him. But her words could not be heard above the hum and beep of the machinery keeping her alive.

Rick stormed out of the hospital. It had gotten even colder out. He drew up his coat and stuck his hands in pockets, anger and hurt consuming him. Rick would find out 3 days later his Aunt Martha died. He did not attend her funeral.

Time, for some time heals all wounds. But for others time digs those wounds deeper. And the scars never heal.