Rape. Rape is a, very heavy word. It makes people stop in their tracks and forces them to listen. Murder doesnt get that attention. Nor robbery, drug use or domestic abuse. However, it got the attention of the Loud family one afternoon. It was quiet. The children were minding their own business, minus Lori, who had moved out a year prior. Lincoln, was in a mood. He wasnt happy. He hasnt been happy in a long time. He was getting out of the shower when he looked in the mirror. His penis was out. The thirteen year old boy hated seeing it. The old barber style razor blade was still in the cabinet. All it would take was a little bit of pain for it to be out of his life completely. This time, he wasnt going to be a pussy. He wasnt going to let her abuse him any longer. Cant take his dick if he didnt have a dick. He breathed heavily as he rummaged through the many drawers of the sink, his heart barely keeping him sustained. Till he found it. The razor.
It was a beautiful piece, the fine cherry wood stained red, with hand carved linings filled in with gold. The blade itself was made by a master metal worker in Japan, something his father had left him in his will after his passing. He opened it up, the fine click letting him know the locking mechanism was still in place. he looked down, and tugged on the spongy apendage. As Lincoln lined the knife up to his organ, and began to breath, pacing himself for the pain, the door to his room opened. His mother opened the door. Lincoln was too lost in his daze to notice the door opening till she let out a piercing scream. "Lincoln!"
She lept over to her son, smacking the blade out of his hand and slapping him in his face. "Go to your room and get dressed, I'll be in there in a minute". She yelled with so much ferocity that some of the siblings had began to peek out of their own rooms. Lunas music had stopped, the twins stopped bickering and Lily stopped pronouncing some new words she had made. Lincoln stared for a moment, before leaving slowly, not bothering to pick up a towel
In Lincolns room, the boy sat quietly on his bed. His mother knocked, before opening. He looked at her, his eyes were full hurt. Something she had noticed for a very long time now. She sat down beside him, and for a moment, all was peaceful. There was no noise other than the small chirp of a bird settling down for the day. Rita began to speak. "Why-"
She was cut off. "She raped me".
Rita, stopped. She stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking. "What?"
"She raped me. And has been raping me for the last two years. Whenever she wants, she comes in here, and just takes me"
"She keeps doing it. Shes going to keep doing it"
Lincoln began shaking. As did his mother. "What are you talking about L-"
"Shes going to keep coming in here. And taking me. Over and over again"
Lincoln breathed in, and his mother stood up. "I dont understand"
"YOU NEVER UNDERSTAND" he yelled. "YOU ALWAYS DO THIS"
His mother recoiled. Halfway in fear and halfway in guilt. "THIS IS MY SECOND TIME TELLING YOU. MY SECOND TIME".
Tears began to flood into Ritas eyesight. The wattery mixture of saline and proteins blurred her line of sight. She remembers her telling him. She remembers every glass of wine, every bottle shes taken out to the trashcan. Shes alwayed hoped it was just a dream. A reoccuring nightmare. She'd heard the creaking of the doors, a small and muffled "Stop". She'd heard the suppressed moans of a woman coming from her sons room. Rita hears it every time it happens. So why didnt she do anything? Why did she look that woman in the face the morning after and smile back at her. Why did she hug her when she cries, why did she drive her to her events and why did she look her in the eyes and tell her she loves her?
The screams finally drew a sister closer. Lynn burst into the room, wondering what all the commotion was. The now 15 year old, spoke quickly. "Whats going on? Is Lincoln okay?"
Rita turned to her daughter, and smiled. "Everything is okay. Lincolns just, in a mood you know". Lincoln couldnt believe what she was saying. He turned to Lynn before his mother could turn her away. "Our sister raped me. And has been for a while". Lincoln was shaking uncontrollably now. His hands were fidgetting and his legs were kicking. He was trying his absolute hardest not to break down. Not to scream himself raw.
Lynn pushed passed her mother, who hurridly rushed herself to the kitchen, her shaking hands attempting to poor a glass of whine, only for it to spill across the counters and floor. She eventually threw the glass to the ground and began drinking from the bottle directly.
Back in the room, Lynn was holding Lincoln in place. His tears had begun to come out rapidly. Years worth coming out at once. "Lincoln, I need you to tell me who. And I swear to god that I will snap their neck and walk barefoot into hell"
Lincoln looked at his sister. And spoke. "Leni".