Free Castles by Benjamin X Wretlind Page A

in the sky was bathed in that same light—a shelter from the storms bathed in eternal sunshine.
    I put my hand on my stomach, so very aware of the life growing inside me. What was I going to do? I honestly thought Mama would be with me, help me through this time in my life. While I stood at the fence and looked over at the darkened trailer, I still had hope that she wouldn't leave me alone. I was her child, after all.
    "You should have let me teach you." The voice behind me was gruff, raspy and very slurred. I turned slowly from the trailer park.
    Alfie stood silhouetted against the night sky. He took a drink from a bottle inside a brown paper bag then threw it into the desert. "Had to do it on your own."
    I held my breath and silently prayed he would go away. There was no escape save the desert beyond. If I tried to hop over the fence, I would never make it. If I screamed, no one was going to hear me. If I ran, he would catch me.
    Alfie took a step toward me and unbuckled his belt. I knew that look in his eye; I'd seen it so many times before. He was too drunk to understand what he was doing but not drunk enough to lose consciousness. It was a dangerous time, one that often led to beatings Mama had to suffer at Alfie's hand. It was also tainted with the sick look I remembered so vividly from the living room the last time I saw him take his belt off.
    "Mama ain't coming home to save you this time, Maggie." He took another step toward me and unbuttoned his pants. "Why don't you just give in and have some fun?"
    I looked to my left and ran. If I followed the fence far enough, I would find the road and safety. If only I hadn't believed my only shelter was in the Bus, I wouldn't have been in that situation.
    Alfie quickly caught up to me and grabbed my arm. I felt pain shoot through me as he pushed his fingers between my muscles and yanked me to the ground. I brushed against a barrel cactus and cut my face.
    I screamed, not so much at the situation but at the pain exploding from my cheeks. I knew the people in the nearby trailers heard me, and if I thought they would have lifted a finger to help me, I would have screamed again. Alfie, however, knew better. He punched me in my face, against the cuts, and pushed my head into the hard dirt.
    He was on top of me by then. It hadn't taken long: three seconds, maybe four. My attempted escape, his lightning reflexes despite being drunk, the permanent marring on my face that I still wear to this day—all of it ran together right then, and only through reflection could I ever sort out the events.
    I've had a lot of time to think about that moment, and wonder if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.
    There are brushes with death we all have, and they come at us without warning. There is the accident at an intersection when you have the right of way. There is the misstep at the top of the stairs, avoiding the fall by reacting quickly. There are faces in the crowd who would do you harm in a second, regardless of whether or not you know them. There is, on top of that, rape.
    We have to deal with these brushes any way we can. We sometimes hide them from others, wearing our shame but never explaining the change that's come over us. We sometimes wish them away, or deny they ever happened. We sometimes accept our fate, learn our lesson, move on with life.
    As I cried that night, feeling the weight of Alfie over me as he thrust inside, I knew this was a brush with death I could never hide. There is a reason for everything that happens, and even if something is tragic, painful or full of rage, it is part of a larger whole.
    I looked up through my tears at the blurry stars above. Heaven's light shone on me, and even though I knew life was never going to be the same, it wasn't over. My castle in the sky waited for me, and I was going to make it larger than anyone could have imagined. I wanted to hear Grandma's voice again, to know everything was all right. It didn't even matter at that