She can tell those three words turn me on and I know she's trying to hide a smile. Slowly, her hand travels up my chest, starting at my lower abdomen, and working up to the center-making me want to shiver at her light caress. She sticks out her fing...
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One of my earliest memories was from when I was just three years old. It was a sunny Saturday, and my father was screaming. My eyes screwed shut as I hid in one of the kitchen cabinets I could fit into underneath the sink as I heard things being thrown and my mother trying to calm him down.
I cupped my hands over my ears. It was so loud.
So loud.
So loud.
I sat there, tears in my eyes but mouth sealed tight. It was better to suffer in silence than get my father's attention. He always made it hurt when I showed weakness. He screamed animalistically. I opened the cabinet to see, watching as my mother and father struggled with each other, and a part of me hoped that my mother would win. Please, let my mom win.
I made my get-away, only to hear footsteps behind me. I was ready to hold my ground when I looked at my father. He looked more animal than human at the moment. His chest covered in wounds.
"Hi honey." He walked closer and my hands started to shake. I was so scared. "Come on now, you know I wouldn't hurt you."
I have to think. Is my mother dead? If she is, I'd have to run and save myself. But if she isn't, I can get her and run. I put my hands down, seeing the twisted look that dethroned his face before he raised the knife from behind his back.
I screamed, raising my arm to defend myself, but the blade sliced deep along my skin. Drawing so much red, I thought I might pass out at the sight. My father went to bring the knife down on me again, and I closed my eyes, expecting the worst. But nothing happened; I opened my eyes to see my mother grabbing the knife from his hand.
That day I figured out that it only takes two minutes to die after a major artery is hit. Our doctor neighbor told me that after she patched up my wound.
I sit in the shower for hours; If I'm being held captive, his high water bill is the last thing on my mind. The room is so stuffy I can hardly breathe in the confined space. I force myself to stand up and shut off the water. Avoiding human contact has been my focus for the day, and keeping Auggie busy helped with that. Drying myself off while my mind races for answers it cannot reach, I zip up one of the oversize jackets I found and trek to the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water.
Yawning, I note that it's 4 am. I'm for sure not getting my 8 hours. When I see him, I stop. I see someone half-naked, doing push ups on the floor in the barely lit living room. I watch as he brings his arms down, lifting his body off the floor to do another as his body drips with sweat.
I really need to go back to bed. I start to back up, turning away from the enticing man in front of me when his eyes connect with mine. I swallow my dry mouth. In the barely lit room, he stands up and I see his dark eyes trail over me.
