Sherry's Story

Weak and Tired

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise.

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Ben carried me out of the interrogation room and into the police station staff break room, and placed me on an ugly but soft sofa. My entire body was drenched in a cold sweat and my teeth were chattering. I heard John Hardigan call for blankets and it wasn’t long before I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth.

A tall thin man with a medical bag came in to look at me. “Hello, Sherry. My name is Doctor Lecter. I am a psychiatrist and was in the building when Lieutenant Hardigan called me to see how you were. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t need to see a shrink, I just fainted.”

He smiled and I felt at ease. “You hit your head pretty hard. In case you didn’t know, shrinks are also medical doctors. Our specialty is the mind, of course, but we also know how the body works. We can make diagnoses as well as any doctor in a hospital emergency room. Now, how are you feeling?”

“Weak. And tired.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.”

“What happened to me? Why did I collapse?”

“Without a full examination and blood tests, I can’t say for sure. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

I wanted to say: ‘Yes, Doctor. I have been under a hell of a lot of stress. I stabbed a man four times, watched him die before my very eyes, washed his dried blood from my body, destroyed all evidence of my crime, and not only did I have to attend his funeral today, I was threatened by the most dangerous man in the state....but other than that, my life’s been peachy.’

But I didn’t. Instead, I said: “Today, I had to attend the funeral of a man I once considered a friend. Less than an hour ago, I found out that he was going to put me in a cage in his basement. I guess I freaked out.”

“Just to be on the safe side, you’ll have to go to the hospital for tests and x-rays. I’ll do a basic exam to see if you’ve really hurt your head.” He removed a pen light from his medical bag and shone it in my eyes. “Pupils are normal. Good. Now, follow my finger with your eyes. No, don’t turn your head, just move your eyes. Good responses. Are you nauseous or dizzy?”

“A little of both. Is that bad?”

“It’s common with head injuries. The symptoms usually fade. So far, I see nothing to alarm me but as I said, you should have x-rays to rule out anything serious.” Dr. Lecter’s eyes twinkled. “Is it possible that you’re pregnant?”

“I--I don’t know.”

“Why are you crying? Was it something I said?” Dr. Lecter looked concerned. “Please tell me.”

Because I was bawling, it took a while before I could get the words out. “On the night of my party, I was raped by the host. Earlier that night, I made love with my husband. Oh God, what if I’m pregnant? Whose baby is it? What am I gonna do?” I felt my hand being taken. I looked up and saw that Dr. Lecter’s eyes were kind and full of sympathy.

“Let’s not worry until we have to, all right? We don’t even know if you are pregnant and it is much too early to tell yet. How long ago did these encounters happen?”

“A week.”

Doctor Lecter looked relieved. “Then I can say with 99.99% certainty that that wasn’t why you fainted. You had a severe emotional shock today; not only being interrogated but also what you learned about this man and what his intentions were. Your husband has been pacing the hall like an expectant father but he can come in now. Until the ambulance gets here, he can stay with you. I’ll make sure you can be alone.” He went to the door and Ben was inside the room like a shot.

“How is she, Doctor?”

“I think she’ll be okay but she should go to the hospital just to be sure. I’m going to call an ambulance. Don’t upset her, all right? She’s been through enough.”

Ben nodded and sat beside me. “How are you, babe? You feeling better?”

I waited until the doctor had left and we were alone before I spoke. I felt scalding tears trail down my frozen face. “He was going to lock me away. He was going to rape me over and over until I conceived…” I couldn’t speak. I sobbed, burying my face in the front of Ben’s shirt, soaking it with my tears.

Ben whispered in my ear. “But we got him, didn’t we? The bastard won’t hurt you again.”

The only thing that was keeping me from losing it completely was knowing my husband was at my side. “What if I’m already pregnant?” I asked. I felt Ben’s lips kiss my forehead but he didn’t say anything.

There was a discreet knock at the door and the psychiatrist re-entered the room. “The ambulance will be here in a moment,” he said.

Ben stood up and unconsciously shook the Doctor’s hand with enough force to make the highly educated man wince. “Sorry, Doc. I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything.” The smile evaporated from Ben’s face as John Hardigan came in.

“Get the hell out of here, John! You wanna upset Sherry again? If you take one more step towards her, I swear to God, I’ll beat the shit out of you…”

“I didn’t come here to cause either of you any trouble,” John said. “I just wanted to see if she’s all right.”

“I’m fine,” I said crisply. “So why don’t you just leave? Aren’t there other female suspects you can terrorize?” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth but I couldn’t take them back.

John Hardigan had only been doing his job—he had had no choice but to question me. And as interrogators went, he had been gentle and understanding, considering almost every word I said had been a bald-faced lie. It wasn’t his fault that Richard Kershaw had turned into a monster. Still, my conscience pricked me; I had to say something. “John, I’m sorry. It’s just been a really bad day for me.”

His face softened and in a few long strides, he was at my side and I was in his arms. We made our peace in silence. We withdrew from each other, embarrassed. To cover our awkwardness until the moment passed and we were at our ease again, Ben shook John’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder.

“You are one of my oldest friends,” Ben began, his voice rough with sentiment, “and I owe you an apology too. I’m sorry, man. I had no right to say…”

“Don’t apologize, Ben. I’d do the same if my wife reacted the same way. I’ll swing by your place later because…Look, the ambulance is here. ”

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I was glad that my ordeal was over. I had been poked and prodded, stuck with needles and told to pee in a cup. I was in my own bed and just waking from a well-deserved nap when I heard Ben speaking to someone in the living room.

I knew it was John and when Ben didn’t come to tell me he was here, I stole out of bed and tiptoed to the door so I could listen in on their conversation.

“…I brought something from that hellhole to Sherry. She’ll want to see it. It will make her feel better.”

“It sure will,” Ben replied. “Damn that bastard! How could he even think of doing that to her?”

“I didn’t get to show her all the pictures we took of that cell. Look at what else we found.”

“Jesus Christ!” Ben exclaimed, his voice loud and clear even through the walls. “If Sherry ever found out about this, she’ll have nightmares! I worked with the guy, John. Once you got to know him, he seemed nice enough. We didn’t have much in common, but he seemed to care a lot for Sherry. Boy was I wrong!”

I was burning with curiosity. What the hell were they talking about? What was so bad that I’d get nightmares? Goddamn men! They think that women are poor little helpless beings that need to be protected from the big bad world.

“What happened, do you think? What changed him?”

“Dunno, man. This beats the hell out of me. You wanna drink?”

“Thanks, Ben. Why don’t we go out?”

“Good idea. We won’t disturb Sherry and we can talk.”

As quietly as I could, I snuck back to my bed and barely had the covers pulled over me when Ben came in. I heard him open the door. Through half-closed lids, I saw him poke his head in the door.

“Babe? You awake?” he whispered.

I made no move and made sure that I took deep slow breaths. I wanted Ben to think I was still sound asleep—if he thought I was, only then would he leave, and then I could finally see what was so damn interesting in the living room.

After a long moment, Ben closed the door. I waited until I heard both men leave the apartment before I got out of bed. Ever since I was a little girl, I was told I was too curious for my own good—curiosity killed the cat, as the old saying went.

Now I knew the sordid and perverted depths Richard had sunk to. It hadn’t been enough for him to build a cell for me in the basement of his estate; he was going to chain me to the bed. Oh God…

For the second time that day, I started bawling. On the night I clubbed my stepfather and ran, I hadn’t taken anything with me.

On the coffee table, there were four photo albums, each one full of pictures I thought I would never see again. My dad teaching me to ride a bike; my first day of school; pictures of my first Christmas pageant…. Most dear to me were the snapshots of my mom when she was fit and healthy and my dad was still alive.

I wept at my lost childhood. Girls my age were planning for their proms and graduations, kissing boys for the first time, trying on makeup… Less than six months ago, I had only been fourteen and casting my first shy looks at boys. Without warning, I was cast down into Hell where I was forced to satisfy the darkest desires of men. Men like Uncle Tom and Roarke and countless other faceless, nameless bastards.

As bad as my early life in Sin City had been, I had to be honest: not all the men who paid for me were twisted or evil. Like Jones, some of them had been quiet, decent men who would never dream of hurting me; perhaps because I was a reminder of a long-lost love or a beloved dead wife.

Because of loneliness or the desperate desire for a woman’s warmth, they came to me. Call it pity or compassion; I never turned those men away. I knew all too well what being truly isolated and alone was like; I had spent too many sleepless nights at Momma’s yearning to feel warm flesh against mine in bed, to escape--however temporarily--from the empty black void that was my life.

Because of my age, these men felt young and virile again. I restored their self-confidence. Another reason for my popularity with older men was that many of these poor souls only wanted to talk. They wanted a woman to listen to them; telling me things they would never reveal to anyone else.

It took a while but eventually I stopped feeling sorry for myself. While it was true that I had to grow up a lot sooner than I ever dreamed of, I had something those other girls didn’t: I knew what it meant to love. I knew what it meant to have a man love me.

Ben and Richard taught me what it meant to be a woman—to be held and loved, reaching the heights of shared sexual pleasure…However, I couldn’t forget that it was also Ben and Richard who betrayed me. They used their larger size against me--pinning me down, forcing my legs apart, each thrust of their hard cocks ripping me apart, making me wish for death, humiliating me by calling me filthy names…Whore. Slut. Cunt.

I shook my head to clear it. What was done was done and it wouldn’t do me any good to remember the past. Ahead of me was my future—I had a roof over my head and a husband who loved me. And with any luck, I was already carrying his child.

That night, I lay in my husband’s arms and contemplated my life and what brought me to this point. It was ironic that out of pain and misery and heartache, I found love. Unconditional, unshakable love. Ben loved me enough to hide and destroy all of the evidence of my guilt in the murder of a top Mob lawyer—that had to count for something.

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Author’s Note: This chapter did not turn out as well as I had hoped, but I am posting it anyway.