Finding Rayna

"I am so Dead. Mom is going to kill me. I should be home already. Damn it," I thought to myself. That teacher doesn't understand how my life is total hell at home. She didn't know that I was a maid and that I had hidden my injuries.

A teacher wanted to speak with me about an assignment I didn't complete. I am freaking out. It wasn't because the teacher wished to talk to me, but how my mother would react to me arriving home late. Getting home from school a few minutes later than usual wouldn't frazzle most kids. Yet, it has my nerves on edge.

My mom was standing in front of the door waiting for me when I opened it. I tremble, knowing that I will hear my mom yell and belittle me.

"You are late, Rayna Lynn. Where the hell have you been? Who were you out screwing around with?"

"It's not like that. My teacher Mrs. Shannon needed to speak to me after school. I had forgotten to turn in an assignment, and she wanted to ensure that I would complete it. So I came right home afterward. I swear I did." I say with an anxious voice.

"You bitch. You're always making excuses; nothing is your fault. Gosh, you are such a stupid, worthless whore. How did I end up with a daughter like you? Get your ass in the kitchen and get dinner started; once dinner is over, you can clean the mess up,"

"Okay, I am on it," I say as I run into the kitchen and start dinner.

Our kitchen is an enormous room, white with stainless steel appliances. I place ingredients on the island near the stove to make Chili. The dining room table can seat up to ten people. I soon had all the ingredients mixed, the ground beef browned, and added to the Chili. Beau, my brother, and Travis, his best friend, walked in as it was simmering.

"Hey there, cunt, dinner smells great; get Travis and me a drink. Make it quick. I don't have all day." As I was doing what I was asked, I hear, "Move it, damn it. I said we don't have all damn day to sit here and waste. My God, Travis, now do you see why we call her worthless? It's like Rayna has no clue what her ass needs to be doing. She can't do anything right. It's no wonder she doesn't have any friends. Who wants to be friends with someone like that?" Beau says, laughing.

"I sure wouldn't. Rayna is a whore. Who knows how many guys have banged that cunt of hers?" Travis says as he stares at me, making my skin crawl, winking at me, making me feel uncomfortable.

I've never had sex before. How am I a whore? I don't have time for friendship. Whenever I made friends I couldn't hang out with, they would soon find someone that could. I spent my time cooking, cleaning, and doing things my family didn't want to do. I am a maid to them. In situations where they want something but don't want to get up, they will yell for me, and I will have to get it or else I will be yelled at or hit.

As I went to the refrigerator, mulling over whether I should throw the two bottles of water at them, I grabbed the water bottles. I decided against pitching it at them and handed the water to the boys. I turn to finish dinner. With my back turned to the boys, I stirred the Chili, ensuring it was not sticking, when I heard the front door open and shut. My heart sank; my dad's home. He scares me more than anyone I have ever met; my nerves kicked in again. Dad is the one that is the worst, especially if dinner isn't on the table. Dinner isn't on the table, and I have yet to set it, "Well, shit, I am so fucking dead." I thought with my heart racing.

My father is a tall, muscular man; he does a lot of damage when he hits me. I wish I could just fade into nothingness. Instead, I am stuck here. Dad walks into the kitchen and says, "Hi," to Beau, and Travis then turns to look at me. His face turns to pure hatred.

"Rayna, why isn't dinner on the table, you lazy bitch? How often have I told you that my food better be on the table when I get home? Why do you never listen to me, whore?" Dad yells as he walks over to me and punches me in the face and stomach. I bend over, holding my midsection, gasping for air. He hits me again in the gut; I fall to the floor on my knees. He then kicks me a few times in the ribs and says, "Get the fuck off the floor and set the fucking table for dinner. Then go to your room. You are fat; you don't need any food,"

With dinner done and the table set, I run up to my room as quickly as possible. My ribs hurt. It ached to move too fast or take deep breaths. Once in my bedroom, I do as much of my homework as possible. My room has the bare minimum of furniture. There is a twin bed on one wall and a dresser on another.

I give the household a couple of hours to eat; I am out of their way and don't have to worry about getting hit again. Then I head down to clean the kitchen. As I was washing the dishes, my dad punched me in the ribs as he walked by me to get to the refrigerator. I go to wipe off the stove and get slapped in my face. "Why are you taking so long to clean this up, you slut? Clean this up faster, clean the living room, and get your fat ass to bed, you stupid bitch," He growls.

After I finished the kitchen, I headed into the living room, walking around, organizing, and cleaning. Then head back upstairs to finish my homework. As I put my books in my backpack before bed, Beau comes to my room. "Hey, whore make sure you are up in time to have breakfast done for us; that way, we aren't running late in the morning. You understand me, bitch?" He says before he slams my door shut, not waiting for my reply.

"What a prick," I thought as I grabbed my night attire and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. I turned the water on, wanting it to heat a little. I glance in the mirror. I have long, dirty blond hair and bright green eyes. Pretty, at least I thought, but my family always told me I was ugly. So I must be.

***

It is now about 11:30 p.m., and I hear my bedroom door open. Thinking my father wanted me to do something or another for him, I didn't bother to turn to see who opened my door. I felt someone climb into my bed, grab me by the waist, and flip me over. I scream. Looking to see who it is, "What in the hell, Travis? Get out of my room, you ass," I say. He slaps me and forces my hands above my head. I cry for help. I fought and yelled, but no one came to help me. Eventually, he tells me he will kill me if I don't stop fighting him. So, I stopped fighting.

He pulls my pants and panties off me while still holding my hands above my head. He then pulls his shorts and boxers off himself and rams into me. Just like that, I was now what my family always called me, a whore and a slut. Yet, I survived getting raped where I should have been the safest in my home, in my bed.

My life couldn't get much worse than it is right now. I am lying in my bed, crying because I have survived the rape, but I got raped in my home, in my bed, by my brother's best friend. I screamed and fought, but my family never came to my aid. What type of parents wouldn't come running if their child is screaming for help? People that should never have been parents at all. What did I ever do to deserve this type of life? Am I that bad of a person? I really must be worthless.

***

A month later, my period was late. I had been vomiting; my breasts were sore, and certain aromas made me gag. I know I need to take a pregnancy test, but I don't want to. My cycles are usually like clockwork. I don't have a lot of money, but I have some. So I gathered money I found in the washer while doing the laundry and went to school. I left at lunch, went to the pharmacy, and bought a few pregnancy tests. Leaving the pharmacy, I stopped at a McDonald's. I ordered a soda. I sat down, taking a deep breath. "Well, the only thing I can do is take the test," I mumble as I stand up and head to the bathroom.

I read the directions on the box. Then I pee on the stick and set the timer on my flip phone for three minutes. I wait. I paced back and forth, back and forth, in the tiny restroom as my heart raced. Was I expecting? What happens if I am? The timer goes off; I look at the test and start crying. It's positive.

"Holy crap, I am having a baby. There is a life growing inside me. What are mom and dad going to say when they find out? Shit, they will most likely throw me out," I thought. I didn't want my child to grow up in my parent's house and have the life I have lived. I knew I had to come up with a plan to leave town. I needed to ensure that my parents and brother never located me. The first step is to see a doctor and try to get my child and me as healthy as possible. I found a Doctor, called them, and made an appointment.

The following day, I sat in a room waiting for the doctor to come in. Finally, the doctor opens the door. "Hi, Rayna, I am Dr. Carson. What brings you here today?" A lady in her late sixties asks me. I told her that my period had not shown up yet and that I had taken a few pregnancy tests that came back positive.

After the doctor gave me another pregnancy test, it confirmed my pregnancy. I left the doctor's office with information about pregnancy and some prenatal vitamin samples. As I was heading to my car, a nurse stopped me.

"Honey, I noticed you are a little jittery and nervous. Are you safe at your house?"

I thought about my answer. Should I tell this nurse the truth? I knew I had to if I wanted to keep my baby safe. So I told her, "No, not at all. I need to get out of Idaho. I just need to get away from my family and the father of this baby." Then I told her about the abuse I had suffered at the hands of my family. I even told her about the rape. The nurse told me to wait a few minutes and that she would be right back.

I have no clue why I had opened myself so much to this lady, a lady I didn't even know, but I am glad I did. She came back a few minutes later and gave me some cash. She told me to take care of myself and my baby. This stranger had done more for me in a few minutes than my family. I was thankful for that.

Once at home, I went upstairs and packed up my things. I put them in my car and made dinner for the last time in this house. Then I sat down and waited for my mother. When my mom walked into the house, I said, "Mom, I have something to tell you." I say, looking her in the eyes. Mom nods her head, so I continue, "A month ago, when Travis stayed the night with Beau, Travis came into my room when I was trying to sleep. H....he raped me. He got me pregnant." I was in tears. I hoped she would act like a mother who loves her child and wouldn't be mad at me but him.

My hopes were soon dashed. "You whore, how could you let that happen? Get out of my house now! Don't you dare ever come back here, you slut?" She yells.

"But mom, I was...," I started before Beau and Travis interrupted me.

"You heard her get out, you piece of crap," Beau said.

"You know what, fuck you, Beau. I will leave, but first, you, worthless motherfuckers, will listen to me," I say as I square my shoulders. "I am sick of the fucking way you all treat me. A month ago, I lay in my bed in my room, falling asleep when someone came in and raped me. That rape resulted in a child growing in me." Looking Beau in the eyes and then glancing at Travis, "I knew I would get thrown out of this hellhole. I planned for just that. My bags are in my car. Don't come looking for me; if I see any of you again, I will turn you in to the police, including you, Travis. I will press charges on you for raping me. This child deserves better than you as a father, better than you all. Hell, I deserve better than the treatment I have received here. Now, screw you all," I turned, opened the front door, stepped out, and slammed it shut on my way to my car.

As I got in my car, I saw Beau and Travis fighting on the front porch. I didn't care that they were quarreling. Even if I heard Beau say something like, "You son of a bitch, you raped my baby sister. How could you? I thought you were my best friend," Why would he care? He treated me like trash, just like our parents. All I knew was, I had to get out of here before my dad pulled in. So, I shut my car door just as my dad pulled up.

"Where the hell do you think you are going? Get your ass in the house, you little bitch!" he screeches at me.

I don't know what came over me in the last few minutes, but I liked it. I seemed to have grown more confident in myself. "Screw you, Cain. You are a sorry excuse of a man and father. I hate you. You are not and never have been a father to me. I have no family here in Idaho," I say as I pull out of the drive.

A big smile spreads on my face. Peace comes over me. A peace I have never, ever felt before. I am not sure where I will go or where I will end up, but I know I won't be a punching bag anymore, nor will I allow myself to be treated like that again. I will make a better life for my child and myself. My child will be cared for and loved; my child will know that I love them more than anything else.

I am free. Free from the living hell I have been living.