Successor (1 of 4)
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
She was the successor of the Canterbury line.
When her brother fell into a deep sleep that few would ever wake from, the responsibilities fell to her, and she toiled to uphold the expectations, but always holding on to the sliver of hope that her only Family would open his eyes once more.
But the years came and went, and when they threatened to pull the plug she had taken matters into her own hands.
Her inheritance would only be given when she was deemed a legal adult.
She didn't bat an eye payed the expense in sweat, toiling in a small convenience store. The trip was far, and in a part of town whose streets were not the cleanest nor the prettiest, and though she had not the means of transport she continued.
A year passed. Then another.
She had just finished her shift and was on her way home. Sometime during her shift it had started drizzling, and to her dismay she pulled up her scarf and hurried along. Late as it was in the early morning hours, she had not the Time to spare waiting it out.
She rarely had Time at all, but that suited her just fine.
It meant she wasn't left alone to her thoughts.
Classes started at 8, she would have a few hours to take care of Ken, and then to sleep. Thankfully it hadn't been all that busy and she had been able to finish the most of her work, so her precious time she could spend of her own.
The man had approached her, amiable enough, his large frame stepping into her path
"May I help you?" she had asked, and the man had grinned, "Why yes, yes you can. I'm looking for this place, can you show me where it is?"
He had beckoned to her to come under the rafters, out of the rain.
And she had.
What followed she could make little of. One moment she had been peering at the bright screen of the smartphone, the next she had been pushed roughly into the alley. She stumbled, dropping her umbrella with a startled cry as she came down hard on craggy asphalt.
Mustering up all she could to get away did nothing. A mere adolescent was incomparable with a grown adult. She was dragged into a building where there were others, all the while the man whispering lewd things in her ear.
The room smelled dirty, as was the cushions she was forced down on.
Her clothes were torn from her, and with it her dignity, all caught neatly on HD film and picture.
When they had their fun, she was thrown out in the alley with nothing to cover herself, bruised and bleeding. But the blood didn't matter to her as much as the paradoxically pure white but foul substance that spilled from her orifices.
Huddling on the cold wet ground, hiding from sight and wanting help but unable to call for it in her shame, she shivered until her strength returned. It wasn't much, but it was enough for her to sift through the dumpster and wrap an old smelly long coat around herself.
She limped back to the hospital, trying to ignore the odd stares and disdainful whispers around her.
She was careful as she entered, ignoring the contempt of the passing nurse or assistant at her foul appearance, clothes, and smells.
When she reached Ken's room she shed the filth, taking the spare change with her to the bathroom. She always left some clothes there should the hour be too late to return home.
But today it wouldn't be just the late hour.
She had been thorough in her cleaning despite the aches and sores and whatever tender spots had come from the scuffle.
And when she looked at herself in the mirror it was a mockery that stood before her.
She turned away, and went through the motions that had become second nature to her. She changed the drainage bag, gently wiping down her brother and grooming his hair. Next were the sheets, and she took extra care, as she always did, in watching the catheter as she moved him to edge the old sheets out.
All this she took to the waste receptacle, and the rest to the hamper out in the hall.
When all was done, she pulled up a chair, and finally succumbed beside her brother's bed to the thoughts that she had so desperately tried to keep at bay.
The tears burned and she cried, the wet streaks only adding to the frustration.
They loved it when she fought back, and even more in her humiliation.
They had relished in her pain.
And laughed at it.
She called in and quit the job at the convenience store the next morning.
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for reading!