The experience was over, not exactly something I had expected, but then, it was a normal act between couples, so I shouldn’t have been so shocked.
Sleep found me, and at first, everything was good as I dreamed of Grandpa and Grandma, dancing in the kitchen to a song that came on the radio; they always showed they loved and cared for each other in small ways, like impromptu dancing to a favorite song.
Then it changed to one of a few recurring nightmares of my sister and her tormentors.
“Don’t, please don’t.” I cried out, thrashing against the arms that held me in place.
Two of my sister’s boyfriends had hold of me, and another was with my sister; they were hurting the kittens I had been feeding for a few weeks now. They laughed at me, as I cried out trying to break free of the guy’s hold, but I was only eight, and not strong enough to fight the older boys. They were brutal, as they tormented the little ones, until none were mewing anymore; they had killed them.
I cried, screamed, and struggled, but couldn’t stop the outcome: one had its eyes gouged out, another had been cut open, and its guts were hanging out. The other, the boy twisted the last kitten’s neck, making a big show of it in front of me. It was brutal, cruel, and I felt so helpless.
Grandpa helped me bury them, comforting me, for what she had done, the spiteful girl, would hurt anyone who came close to me, pushing away my friends. I had some, but they never came to my house. I always went to theirs, because if my sister knew I had a friend or two, she would have her boys beat them and threaten them until they agreed to no longer be my friend. She took pride in ripping everything I had away from me.
I never knew why.
I still don’t know.
Grandpa never told Grandma that the kittens were dead; he said he gave them a good home. My sister was nasty, still is, and I hope to never run into her again, or that I am never alone for her to taunt me. She always had Dad and Mum’s support, in everything she did, and made me out to be the bad one.
The dream was over as warmth filled me. In the back of my mind, I knew it was Tank holding me, comforting me; I had woken him again. I don’t know if I will ever be free of these nightmares.
I woke desperate for the bathroom. Tank tried to keep me in bed, but the distance I needed to cover to get to the toilet was not worth appeasing him, and staying longer, my bladder would allow.
As quickly as I could, I got dressed and pulled on my boots, racing out the door, as the need grew. I should have gone before I went to bed, instead of thinking I could get by without going.
The trip to the ablution block was a blur, paying little attention to the bodies lying on the ground, sleeping where they fell.
The bathroom over and a quick wash later, I was headed back to the tent when the strong smell of bacon wafted through the air. I followed my nose to the grills.
“Good morning, I hadn’t expected to see food ready this early,” I said to those doing the cooking and preparation work.
“We’re cooking nearly all the time, grab some, being first here, you can pile it high.” A lovely woman said, pointing to plates with her tongs.
“Thank you.” I picked up two plates, filling them with eggs, bacon, toast, hash browns, sausages, and everything else on the table to take with me. A lovely woman handed me two cups of hot coffee, and I added milk.
“Can I take a tray? Promise to return it.” I asked the lady nearest to me.
“Sure, sweetie.” I put the coffees, the plates, and some extra buttered toast on the tray and maneuvered myself around bodies near our tent entrance. Pleased with myself for finding the tent in a sea of tents. They all look alike in this semi-darkness.
As I reached the tent, the flap flew open, and Sticks was standing there.
“You up early,” I said, as I moved closer.
“Bladder.” She replied, holding the flap open for me to enter.
I made it to our section, using my head to move the curtain enough for me to enter, placed the tray on the floor, picked up a cup of coffee, and set it close to Tank’s face. He had fallen back to sleep and looked adorable as he cuddled my pillow.
His eyes popped open, and he pulled his head back a bit to look at the cup and then me.
He mumbled something unintelligible and sat up. Took the cup and gulped down a big mouthful before accepting the plate of food. I hope I got enough. We can always go back for more if he was not full. Tank can eat a lot.
The question that had gnawed at me since I bumped into Sticks on my way in, and I had to ask.
“Did I wake the others?” I knew I must have, because of the look on Stick’s face, before she hid it.
We talked for a bit about today and plans, skirting the problem. I know he wants me to share. But I am unsure how to proceed, like if I share, he would like to go on a rampage and hurt my sister, and although I agree she deserves it, she was expecting a baby, and that child hadn’t done anything wrong, and should be given the chance to be born.
Sooner or later, my sister will get comeuppance. I am a firm believer in karma, or fate, what goes around comes around, she will come unstuck one day. My Grandparents instilled in me patience; my time to shine will come, one way or another, and my parents and sister will beg for forgiveness.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.