Part 34 (1/2)
”Saw what?”
”Like father like son, Eleanor. I was ... I am a s.a.d.i.s.t. I take the greatest of pleasures in inflicting the gravest of pains.”
He stopped speaking long enough for the words to sink into Eleanor. She felt them settling into her body, into her blood, like some sort of magic incantation meant to change her from a girl into another being. She let them change her.
”Go on.”
”The boys at school, I scared them. Even the simplest football game could turn b.l.o.o.d.y if I lost control. I pulled away, far into myself. I learned to keep my distance. I wanted to hurt them, but I didn't want to hurt them. I was a wolf on a leash, a leash that I held. And one night, when I was ten, the wolf broke the leash.”
Eleanor s.h.i.+vered at his words.
”What happened?”
S0ren smiled slightly.
”Have you read Lord of the Flies?”
”Yeah, freshman year.”
”That book is a fair representation of what the boys at my school were like. Simply take them off the island, put them back in school.”
”Were you Jack?” she asked, remembering the cruelest of the boys.
”No. Nor Ralph. I was almost Simon.”
”Simon was the one who was murdered, right? You're not dead.”
”Because I fought back. I started at a new school when I was ten. Most of the student leaders of the school, the prefects, were predators-s.e.xual predators. A cycle of abuse had started years earlier and it was forever perpetuating itself. When the boys were first-year students, they were used by the older boys. When it was their turn at the top of the hierarchy, they meted out their vengeance on the younger boys. You were predator or prey at the school. The most notorious of the prefects came after me. He didn't live to regret that decision.”
”Didn't live? You mean-”
”In the middle of the night he came to my bed in the dorm room I shared with three other boys. He pulled the sheets down and covered my mouth with his hand. Ten minutes later, his blood was staining the floor.”
Eleanor went numb. She couldn't even speak to ask him to stop or go on.
”He died six weeks later. He never awoke from the coma I put him in.”
”You killed him.”
”I did.”
”Did you get in any trouble?”
”It was considered self-defense by the law and the school. Everyone knew he was the worst of the offenders at the school. He was also fifteen and I was ten. He was one hundred and sixty pounds and I was one hundred and ten at the time.”
”You beat to death a kid five years older than you and fifty pounds heavier?”
”It took six weeks for him to die of infection. But yes, I caused his death. I had no regrets, only shame.”
”Shame? Why?”
”Because I had my first o.r.g.a.s.m while I was beating him to death.”
Eleanor stopped breathing. S0ren looked away from her as if he couldn't bear to meet her eyes.
”What happened next?” She forced the question out.
”Some students were terrified of me. Some of his victims wanted to canonize me. Instead I was sent back home to America. My punishment of the boy had been so savage, and I so remorseless, no other school would have me.”
”You came back here?”
”I turned eleven in England over the Christmas holiday and came home in January. Father said he would find a school in America that would take me. Until then doctors told him it would be best that I was kept away from other children.”
”What was that like, coming home finally?”
”Difficult. I hadn't been here in five years. I'd only seen my father four or five times since being sent to England. I hadn't seen Elizabeth at all.”
”Claire said your dad abused Elizabeth.”
”Abuse is an understatement. He raped her the first time when she was eight years old. Not a week pa.s.sed without him sneaking in her bedroom at night. My father had threatened to kill her mother if she told anyone. So she stopped speaking altogether.”
”How did her mom not know all this was happening?”
S0ren turned his head and gazed into a dark corner of the room. He seemed to be remembering something, something bad.
”The power of self-delusion is one of the greatest forces of the universe. My father's wife wors.h.i.+pped respectability and status. My father was a respected, even feared, businessman with an impressive pedigree. Divorce was not an option, so instead she convinced herself that the marriage was perfect. Eventually even she couldn't deny the cracks in the facade.”
”What happened? Or do I not want to know?” For the first time she realized how right S0ren had been. For over two years she'd begged to know the truth about him and he'd put her off. Now she understood why he'd kept his secrets.
”You don't want to know. But you need to know. You see, I hadn't seen Elizabeth in five years. We were strangers to each other. I tried to befriend her and after a few months back in this house, she started to speak to me a little.”
He paused and closed his eyes. Eleanor feared what he would say next but she knew she had to hear it.
”My father had to leave the country on an extended business trip. His wife decided to go with him-a second honeymoon. She demanded the children be left behind. I think she sensed his unnatural interest in their daughter. Whatever the reason, it set a series of events in motion that have brought me to this place. And that brings us back to question eight. No, I'm not a virgin.”
”When was your first time?”
”I'll tell you, and I only hope you can stomach the answer. At some point Elizabeth had overheard my father telling her mother about what happened when I was at school-about the boy who'd touched me in my sleep and how I'd killed him. Elizabeth wanted to die. You can't blame her. I certainly never have blamed her for what she did. Our parents left us alone in the house with only a few servants, and on the first night they were gone, Elizabeth came into my room. I was asleep, sound asleep. I didn't hear her open the door. I didn't hear her close it. I didn't feel her pulling the sheets down. I didn't even wake up until it was too late. When I did wake up, I was already inside her.”
Eleanor clapped a hand over her mouth.
”It happens, you see. Boys get erections in their sleep. I can't blame her....” he said again. ”She wanted me to kill her. She wanted to instigate an attack like what happened at my school. But she wasn't an older boy I already loathed. She was my own sister, and I loved her.”
He closed his eyes as if to hide from something.
”So I didn't kill her. Sometimes I wonder if she still wishes I had. I don't remember much from that night. I know she ended up on her back. I know I left bruises on her. And I know ...”
”What?” Eleanor barely heard herself asking the question.
”I know we liked it. Because the next night and every night after that for two months, we did it again.”