Evening breeze
My sister, Sarah, and some lowlife were getting
it on in Dad’s study. Naked. I walked in on the
whole thing.
My parents freaked, had the guy thrown in jail
for attempted rape. Sarah hated me for
“breaking up soulmates.” A druggedBubble tea
later, I was shipped off to the mountains, some
creep’s plaything.
I tried to escape. Got beat to death. Tossed
into a pigpen. Woke up. It was the day Sarah
lost her virginity. This time, I stopped my
parents. Closed the door. Let it happen.
- 1.
“Easy, tiger. It hurts.”
“Oh, you’re so bad.”
Sarah’s breathy moans and giggles slithered
out from under Dad’s study door. Through the
crack, I saw it all. Stark naked, tangled on Dad’s
desk. Wild. Raw. Clothes ripped to shreds all
over the floor. They were in the middle of a
Category 5 hurricane.
<
Me? Standing outside? Brain a blank slate. All I could see was that mountain creep, holding my head down in a trough full of rotting pig slop, slamming it against the wood. The putrid smell filled my nose and mouth, but couldn’t stop the blood gushing out. His knee, his elbow,
smashing into my back, my head. My eyes
bulged. He didn’t stop. Just pain. Couldn’t do
anything. He’d broken my arms and legs with
the blunt side of a machete.
“Try running again, bitch.”
“What’s mine is mine. You try to leave, I’ll kill you.”
The machete flashed. Everything went red. Then nothing.
I floated above, watching my mangled body. Skin and bones. Bald. Couldn’t even tell if it was male or female anymore.
“I love doing it in the study. It’s a rush.”
The creep’s voice, now Jake’s, snapped me
back. I was reborn. Back to the day it all
started.
This time, I let it happen.
<
- 2.
10:32
“Ashley! Still looking for that receipt?”
“You’re dropping that piano class. End of
story.”
“Little miss high and mighty thinks she can play
Chopin. Look in the mirror, kid.”
Dad, impatient, stormed back towards the
study. Inside, frantic scrambling. Nowhere to hide except under the desk. Two huddled figures, clutching clothes, trembling.
Last time, I froze. Dad found them. Sarah got slapped. Jake went to jail. Sarah never defended him. Blamed me for ratting her out. That druggedBubble tea on the camping trip. The van. The mountains. The torture. The pigs. And Sarah? Lived it up. With my parents‘ love, and the college fund Grandma left me.
A smirk crept across my face. I closed the door
and bolted downstairs, plastering a sweet,
apologetic smile on my face.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Don’t worry about the piano lessons. I won’t
go anymore.”
<
They wanted to use Grandma’s money for
Sarah’s latest whim
–
painting lessons. Last
time I fought them. Got grounded, forced to
“reflect” for a week.
Not this time.
They blinked. Surprised. Muttered something
about me being careless, about Sarah being so
much more mature. I nodded. Yeah, mature
enough to give them a grandkid, lock them into
a three–generation circus.
- 3.
They burned through the afternoon. But Jake
wasn’t satisfied. Leaving, he pocketed Dad’s
Montblanc pen. A worthless family heirloom. He
pawned it for cash to impress his ex at the nail
salon.
I knew this because Jake’s cousin, Mark, sat in
front of me in class. He bragged about Jake’s
exploits non–stop. Didn’t know Sarah was the
latest conquest. He’d go on and on about how
Jake bragged about banging her all afternoon,
about downing two dozen oysters to replenish
his strength.
<
“She’s easy. Hot body. Falls for anything. A few
dead roses and she’s handing over her
allowance.”
