8 Cicatrices – Rosalyn Gabaldon Gutierrez
Rosalyn Gabaldon is a creative writing major from San Jose, Costa Rica and she is currently on her 3rd year. Cicatrices is a fiction piece dealing with themes of domestic abuse which was written for her ENG-W206 class. Professor Tanya Perkins would like to celebrate this piece and said, “I am still amazed at how far Rosalyn developed as a writer over the course of Fall 2022. Sixteen weeks is not very long, yet in that time, she truly began to find her voice as a writer, particularly as someone who is multilingual and who can integrate multiple cultural experiences into her creative work. Rosalyn’s first story, “Beats Per Minutes” has been accepted for publication in a journal and this current story, “Cicatrices” is under consideration, so only an excerpt is reproduced here.
Cicatrices
“I can’t sleep like this” I say as I stand up. I scan around my empty room looking for any sort of entertainment, but I can’t find any. Dad doesn’t let me keep any electronics other than my old flip-phone and a watch. He also doesn’t like books and tells me reading is for sissies and that I should be a strong man. I close my eyes and wander around my memories a bit.
I’m now in a forest holding a hunting rifle wearing camo gear that is almost comically too large for me. Dad is going forward without looking at me, trying to move around silently looking for any prey. Despite the fact that the mere fact of killing even a rabbit makes me want to puke he brought me here against my own will. “Don’t be a pussy” echoes in my mind as I shake holding the rifle, moving behind him while afraid of making him angry.
“Shhh, look over there champ.” He says, then points towards a small clearing. I can see a big deer with white spots and a white tail right next to a baby deer that is grazing. “It’s a mother and her child.”
“Get ready to shoot, the younger they are the better they taste” he whispers to me making the reality of the situation set in.
“I can’t do this.”
“Whaddya mean? Don’t be a bitch just shoot, it’s not that hard.”
“No I can’t it’s too much” I reply as I start tearing up
“You’re too much of a pussy, huh?” He replies pensively “I’ll take matters into my own hands then.”
He starts aiming towards the baby deer, getting ready to shoot. My heart starts beating frantically knowing that if I choose to interfere, I’ll get my ass beat by him. His finger reaches for the trigger, slowly pulling back-
“GET AWAY.”
The deer turn and notice us, then quickly flee. My dad looks back first in shock, then I can see the anger build in him as his face turns red. He walks toward me slowly, and I try to back away until I hit a tree. There’s nowhere to run. He eventually closes the distance and grabs me by the collar lifting me up.
“You know what happens now don’t you? Fucking worthless pussy.”
In slow motion, I watch as he raises his hand up. Then it moves towards my face at full force. I open my eyes and suddenly I’m in my room again. I check the time again and it’s 10:00 PM. I’m somewhat relieved by this as it means I have an excuse to go to sleep. There’s one last hurdle before I can though. I stand up then make my way towards the door and open it extremely gently. There’s no more screaming anymore, only the noise of the TV downstairs. Making my way towards the bathroom I pray to every god I know that he doesn’t hear me and hold my breath.
Creak, creak, creak.
Every step of the way makes time feel eternal; it feels as if the noise I’m making can be heard by the entire world. Eventually, however, I make it into the bathroom with no sign of my dad in his room or coming up the stairs. I lock the door then lean on the counter, mentally exhausted. I look up at the mirror and stare at myself. A thin feminine frame that causes dad to constantly make fun of me. Black disheveled hair that seems like an entire lifeform of its own. The same green V-neck I wear every day to school as I have no other long-sleeved clothes to hide the bruises and cuts. “I look so fucking disgusting” is all I can think to myself. Snapping out of it I remember why I’m here, and I reach out to grab my toothbrush from the holding cup.
After brushing my teeth, I make it back to my room, but as soon as I enter, I can smell it.
“Hey champ, why don’t you come sit here?”
“Oh god why the hell is he here” I think to myself before doing as he says and sitting.
“Y’know how much I love you son?” He says then looks towards me. I force myself to nod.
“I’m scared sometimes I’m too rough on ya, but it’s just some tough love. You know I don’t really mean it right?” He says smiling, “Right?”
I force myself to nod again, he then ruffles my hair and stands up. “You’re gonna grow up to be such a fine man. I know your mom spoils you too much, so I have to be a little rougher for you to grow up right, just like my dad taught me.”
“Y-yeah, t-thanks dad…”
“No problem champ, sleep well, okay?”
I nod one final time, then he leaves my room and closes the door. Tears form under my eyes then I lay down holding my pillow to my face. I start to sob.