These Classrooms Talk

XXVIII

I knew something was wrong the moment I saw cop cars out the front of my house. Of course, I knew wrong. Something was not wrong.
I was wrong.
"Kendall!" Mom screams, running down the hallway to greet me. "We were worried sick!"
Two policemen exit the kitchen, one with a notepad. Joining them is Harry and Emily. Dad is at the top of the stairs, smiling greatfully.
"I was just-"
"FUCKING worried sick!" Mom shouts.
"Ma'am, where were you the night of...er...last night." A policeman, policewoman I see now she's closer, asks.
"I was at the beach." I say.
I see Emily's kinky smirk, immediately thinking something is dirty. Harry is just bewindled. Mom is frowning.
"How'd you get there?" The policewoman asks, obviously bored. Her nametag reads Francis - G. Francis. Constable Francis. I laugh.
"Ma'am, this is serious. Where were you from 0800 to now? 0800 yesterday."
"Answer the fucking question Kendall." Mom says.
"I ran. To the beach." I say.
"Where from?" The police officer takes out a notepad, "or who from?"
"School." I admit. "Couldn't be fucked with everyone judging me and calling me a slut and then my boyfriend shows up after being gone for two or so weeks."
The policewoman puts her notepad away.
"Alright," she says, "she is a runaway," she turns to me, "verbal harrassment is not okay. Break up with him."
I don't bother telling her that Mr Smith is my boyfriend and that he's a teacher and that he's not harrassing me. Can't be fucked.
She exits via the front door and her comrade follows.
When the door clicks shut, Dad rushes down the stairs to me and the four of them crowd around me.
"Honey," Mom says, soothingly, "are you alright?"
"I'm fine, mom," I say.
"Are you hurt?" Dad asks.
"Are you happy?!"
"What were you thinking?!"
"How dare you?!"
"Why didn't you call?!"
"Are you pregnant?"
The room quietens. Mom looks at Emily uneasily. Emily returns the gesture.
"No," I say, "I'm a virgin."
I hate lying and I hate lyers. But you do what is necessary for those you love.
"I just left school. Ran to the beach. Fell asleep this morning. Woke up and came home."
"Oh, honey," Mom says, "don't ever FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!"

~

I sit on my bed. Mom, Dad and Emily have gone out to watch a film. I wasn't in the mood and when Harry found out I was staying home he generously offered to stay home as to not make me feel lonely.
I'm scrolling through Instagram when I hear Harry knock on my door.
"Come in," I moan.
Harry opens the door, his rugged hair descendant from Mom but his scraggly beard a gift from Dad. Harry literally gets the best qualities from Mom and Dad.
"Hey, little sis," Harry says.
"Hey," I say.
Harry steps into my room. He's wearing a blue botton up shirt with tight jeans that make his ass cheeks bulge. I giggle. Is that what they call fashion in Hollywood?
Harry sits down next to me and I inhale the familair scent of Rosemary. I don't know how but he always smells of the herb.
"So, what you did yesterday..." I put my phone down and listen to him as he speaks, "...it was pretty badass."
"Yeah," I joke, "I'm a very bad girl."
Harry shifts, clearly nervous. He has something to tell me. Am I uninvited from the cruise?
"I," he hesitates. We stare at eachother for a while before he goes on, "I like bad girls."
I laugh. Then I notice his serious face.
"

What?" I say.
Harry shuffles closer.
"I like you." He says.
"You should," I say sternly, "we're siblings."
"Actually," he carresses my thigh, "I shouldn't like you like this."
I look at his hand and stare back up to him.
"What?" I ask.
"I." He starts. "Want. To. Fuck. You. You deserve to be punished."
"WHAT THE FUCK!" I slap him. He holds his face and stares at me.
Then his eyebrows furrow and he frowns.
"DON'T FUCKING HIT ME AGAIN, BITCH!" He pushes me down, pins me underneath him. He grabs my hands ad holds them either side of my head, using his crotch to pin down my legs.
"HARRY!" I shout frantically.
"My name is NOT Harry." He says.
I stare up at him.
"I work for Emily's father." Harry - or, Not Harry - says, "My name is Henry."
I try to squirm my way out.
"What have you done with Harry?!" I shout desperately, fearing for my brother.
"We dosed him before your parents left," Henry says, "and we extracted him afterward."
"What?" I ask. My own house isn't safe?
"We'll return him soon. He'll have no memory of his kidnap. Neither will you."
The man goes on to have his way with me. I'll spare you the gory details. Rape is something no one should take. No one should stay quiet.
The man takes twenty minutes. I counted, wanting to distract myself from his harsh actions.
Then, he leaves to go find some drugs that I assume will erase my memory.
Desperately, I jump for my diary, which I keep on my bedside table. I scribble down a note and throw it under my bed.
Henry returns.
"Before you erase my memory," I say. He stops in his tracks, "how come you look identical to my brother?"
"Plastic surgery," Henry says flatly. "I may return. May not. May of already been. Who knows?"
I think back. Could he have infiltrated me before? Did I do the same thing I just did? Should I check my diary?
Before I can, he injects me with what I assume to be Huliem, the new drug on the street. It's great for a night out, but not so great for a night you wish to remember.
I will remember Henry.
Henry. Henry. Henry. Henry.
Wait!
Who the fuck is Henry?