Precious Things || Jensoo

Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Jennie is gone.

She was already packed and, when my grandfather said, "Miss Kim, home. Now," she complied pretty damn fast. Not that I blame her.

I said nothing. I had nothing to say.

Heart beating like a big bass drum and fear in my throat, I stand stock-still and stare at him. He stares at me.

Oh. Fuck.

She's gone, just left, clattering down the stairs, sending me a look of 'Oh God, I hope it's okay' and then fleeing out the front door.

She hasn't seen his eyes. She doesn't know him. She doesn't know what he's going to do.

I do.

He has never, ever, in my entire life with him, been this mad. He's plethoric. He has a vein pounding in his temple.

He's furious.

He says nothing. He doesn't have to. With a trembling arm, he extends fully and points towards his study.

My eyes are pleading. I don't want to go.

I don't want to go.

"Grandfather..."

He points again, more vigorously, his breathing heavy and uneven.

He's furious.

I walk into his study and I'm shaking. But it's okay. I just have to get through this and, in a few days, it will be like it has never happened. I'll talk him around.

My mind is whirring as I walk in and he follows me, stalking and angry.

I don't know what he's most mad about. Was it that I defied him and had Jennie over? He doesn't know she stayed – he didn't even see her carry case – he just knows that she was here and then left. Was it that he saw us kissing? Was it that I was kissing anyone or that I was kissing a girl?

He's the most old-fashioned person I know, but this may be pushing his envelope more than I imagined.

He points to the floor, still shaking. I think he's unable to talk. He's trembling.

I fall to my knees and unbutton my blouse – fast. I don't even have time to get it round and on. My bra strap is still done up.

I hear something I don't expect. It's not the opening of my grandfather's cupboard. It's the jingling of his belt: the unmistakable sound of his buckle coming undone.

I don't have time to react. I don't have time to turn my head. I barely register the noise, realise what it is and then the pain hits.

The first blow knocks my head forward, even though it lands in the middle of my shoulders. I gasp, tears springing unbidden to my eyes.

This is not my grandfather. Not like I know him.

This is not seventeen lashes to remind me of my place. This is anger.

This is the metal buckle of his belt slicing through my flesh and causing me more pain than I've ever had in my life.

The second blow knocks me to my hands and knees, gasping again as it hits my flesh.

Over. And over. And over.

I can't breathe. I can't do anything.

The tears fall down my face as he hits me over and over and over.

There's no end to it.

There's no calculation of my life span. This is not punishment. This is war.

By the time he's done, I hear him breathing heavily, and I'm down for the count.

I collapse on the floor, sobbing to myself as I feel blood run down my back, over my ribs and onto my blouse as it's crumpled beneath me.

My blood.

I hear the belt drop to the floor. I hear his breathing.

And I sob.

He leaves. He walks out and I don't know where he's gone.

It takes me at least five, if not ten, long minutes to pick myself up to my hands and knees. I'm on fire and I don't know how I make it to my feet, holding on to the edge of his desk, without fainting.

I hold my blouse in my hand, and nearly vomit at the large red stain there. I look down to the rug on the floor, and there's a spot there too.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I can't think straight. The pain is excruciating and I can't think.

I want Jennie.

No, I can't think of Jennie. If I think of her, I'll die.

He... he was so angry.

Oh God, he was so angry.

I stumble upstairs, pained and blank in the head.

I get to the bathroom, close the door, drop my blouse and vomit in the sink.

It takes me awhile, but I clean that up, trying not to move too much. I look at myself in the mirror, face-to-face.

All I see is a tear-stained stranger.

Eventually, because I have to, I turn ever so slightly so that I can have a look at the damage.

I think my blouse and bra are both ruined. Blood is a bitch to get out.

My back is a mess.

There's at least three places where the skin is flayed open, and that explains why I'm in so much pain.

Two of them are still trickling slightly, but the blood is congealing everywhere.

I can do nothing for this.

I grab an old towel and go to my room.

It's three in the afternoon. I don't care.

I place the towel on the bed and lie face down.

Burying my head into the pillow that still smells of Jennie's hair, I try not to cry.

I will never see her again. I will never be allowed out of the house again. He's going to watch me like a hawk.

I want to die.

* *©clomle44* *