Affluent Influence

AFFLUENT INFLUENCE

My Aunt flaunted with her reflection in the bathroom mirror as I waited by its open mouth for her to finish. 

"Come on Aunt Flow - I need to go really bad." I complained.

"Just a minute dear - a lady must always look her best." Said Aunt Flow. "I have a date tonight and it's important to set the right type of example so they know the standard of what they are about to let into their lives;"

"Uh-hu." I murmured as I pressed my thighs together.

"One day you'll be doing this yourself." Murmured Aunt Flow in a breathy whisper. "Then you'll see the importance of it."

"Uh-hu." I said once more.

At that moment I heard the front door bang closed, I felt the air change from calm to heavy and humid.

"Come on hurry up!" I screamed as though it were a life or death situation. "Or I'll just come in and pee despite your presence."

"Do what you must - but I swear a few more seconds and I'll be done." Murmured Aunt Flow as she placed the first of several layers of powder on her pale face.

I hurriedly brushed past her, bumping her on the back more then a little deliberately. Then I took off the partially wet knickers from under my skirt and let out my pot of tea.

I sighed and briefly closed my eyes, as a deep relief took hold of me.

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything." Luke murmured as he leant on the open door-frame.

Aunt Flow exclaimed a sporadic scream before she pushed Luke back and closed the door in his face. I never had more admiration for Aunt Flow as I did at that moment in time. She was commanding, spontaneous, and courageous. If she could only see the pictures I held in my mind from the beatings Luke gave my adoptive mother, then perhaps she may have thought twice. But she didn't know, and she didn't think - she just did what needed to be done, and shut him out, and I admired her for that.

"Some men!" Exclaimed Aunt Flow. "I don't know what my poor sister was thinking of when she married him."

"Well to be fair - he is a little better then my father." I said in complete sincerity.

"Your father!" Snorted Aunt Flow. "Anything would be better then that wild man!" Aunt Flow put her thin fingers to her lips, and then gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry dear - I didn't mean?"

"It's okay - Pam has called him worse things then that. I know he was? the modern monster. I saw him - I knew." I said as a silent whine sounded off in the back of my brain as I remembered the silhouette of the person who had fathered me.

"It's funny though, that he should have such a sweet and mild-mannered daughter." Said Aunt Flow as she placed her cool fingers to my face.

My inner child quietened as Aunt Flow's icy fingers calmed me down, and brought back the smile which had dropped as my thoughts became hung.

A large barrage of knocks came from outside the door.

"Hey this ain't no ladies room; some of us men are dirty from a day of doing real work, and need to shower!"

"Oh!" Said Aunt Flow as her cheeks turned bright crimson under a very spiteful glare. "That man!" She exclaimed as she puffed up her chest and headed toward the door.

"Listen here!" Aunt Flow cried as she opened the door.

But her words stopped their spill as Luke grabbed her arm and tossed her out through the door as though she were but a stick of plastic. Luke walked in, slammed the door closed, and tossed the lock to keep the door in place.

"Look at this woman's gunk!" He grumbled as he swept aside a few pots of perfume in order to make space for his elbows.

Luke looked at me and smiled as my pee leaked out from me. The hairs on my arms rose, and I felt a warm chill which made my skin crawl.

"May you look like chalk - have you eaten yet?" He questioned as he tossed his greasy shirt off.

"I just had some fruit." I murmured as I reached for the toilet paper with trembling fingers.

Luke turned the sinks tap on, and lathered some soap inside his hands. When they were filled with white foam, he leant over the dish, and very roughly cleaned his face and torso.

Black backwater fell from his skin and stained the white porcelain of the sink.

I glanced at his body - muscles rippled and curved in various places. It was frightening to see. So frightening I had to look away. His tanned hide was the kind of image that could seep into my nightmares if I looked long enough.

I heard Aunt Flow pound her dainty fists on the hard door. It made a small consistent sound, which Luke merely smiled at.

"She's a lot different from Pamela ain't she?" Luke murmured as he picked up a towel which hung on the brass racks. "Like she's been off the planet for too many years; but I guess that's what happens when you work at a library all your life."

I nodded and glanced dismally at the folded pad of paper clasped in my hand. I yearned to finish my activity with the final wipe, but self-consciousness made me pull back. Luke turned his head my way, and gave me a sidelong glance.

"I'll let you finish up." He finally murmured before he tossed the towel onto the floor and walked out.

I sighed a sigh of relief as Aunt Flow came bustling in working her tongue around a few long, elaborate, words. I stood, and pulled my underwear up, as she ranted on more to herself than anyone else. It was when I moved to pass her that she caught my arm with a firm and unusually strong grip - that was when I realised she was no longer talking to herself; that was when I realised that her attention had diverted to me in the past seconds.

"My dear, this is a time to be honest with me. A man, who closes himself inside a room with a young lady only half decent, usually doesn't care for the laws of respectability. I need to know - has he ever? and don't be alarmed when I say this; but has he ever made any un-gentlemanly advances toward you?"

"No." I said almost instantaneously. "I'm more like a ghost to him then anything else."

"Well, as long as he keeps his intentions for the right person - that's all that comforts me." Said Aunt Flow with a soft sigh.

She then looked into the mirror and grimaced.

"My oh, my; how I must hurry! My date will be here to pick me up very soon."

I lifted an eyebrow and turned around to collect some study books from the inside of my room. I knew Aunt Flow could be bustling through it for a good part of the next hour, and so I moved to find a quiet space in the house where I could mentally focus.

I sat in the low-lit kitchen, and tried to concentrate on a book I had borrowed from the local library. I had barely digested the first few lines when Pamela came through the front with a couple of brown bags in her arms.

Pamela glanced over and welcomed me with a smile.

"Help your poor ma here dear." Pamela called, even though we both knew she was not my real mother.

I smiled and stood up. My steps creaked the old wooden floorboards underneath my shoes. After a toss of my head I held out my hands to accept the first bundle of groceries, but a shout broke my concentration; and after having jumped almost a centimetre off the floor I closed in my arms - but they were too late - the brown bag flew down to my toes like a cannon ball. Pamela gave a shriek as she heard eggs break inside the bag.

"May, you are clumsy!" She sharply retorted.

"I'm sorry Pam?" I began as I leant toward the mess - but a quick tug on the back of my shirt pulled me back, and I felt the bang of hard wood against the back of my legs.

Luke glanced down at Pamela as she knelt by the fallen bag; he shook his head and laughed.

Pamela bit him with an opening remark.

"You think this is funny you pig?!" She spat as though the sound of his amusement was venom to her ears.

"In a way." Retorted Luke as his smile greatly faded.

"Well laugh when you give me your beer money so I can spend it on more groceries. May has spoilt twenty-four dollars worth of food."

"Well perhaps you should have stopped belly aching, and just put the bags on the table." Gunned Luke as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

I felt Pamela's anger circle as she stared at me with refuelled hate. If there ever were a moment when I thought she had regretted ever adopting me, it was at that moment. I felt my heart turn cold, and for a moment I couldn't even breathe. I had an image of me being placed into a taxi and being driven home to my father's. My womb seemed to shrink at it. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I wanted to beg for forgiveness, but I was too heavy to move. So instead I stole a glance toward Luke whose dark eyes were cemented on Pamela. No hope or appeasement lay there. I felt the lead hoop us as we each fought our warm feelings for each other, until the room was drenched in nothing but coldness. I felt my skin frost on the inside of me - perhaps Luke felt it too, for in an instant he squeezed my shoulder with his fingers, and the sensation melted into a mere essence of damp cool.

No one dared to breathe a single word; no one moved. The moment had frozen time, and created a freeze cell, which just sat there; however a knock on the door awoke us, and broke the spell.

"Who the hell?" Cried Pamela

as she charged her gaze toward the front door.

"Oh, that is my gentleman friend." Whispered a voice from across the room.

All three of us turned our heads to find Aunt Flow sauntering through the room, with her make up plastered on her face, a feather boa covering her arms, and looking incredibly overdressed for the occasion.

"Where the hell are you going?" Murmured Pamela in a tone lined with envy.

It had been years since Pamela had seen a dress of that quality - she had forgotten the luxury of having them on hand. She hadn't even realised she had missed it until that point in time.

"Out to dinner." Said Aunt Flow, with a generous smile.

"To dinner?" Murmured Pamela with a frown. "Don't you think it's a little extravagant?"

"Not at all, why I believe?"

"You can spend all day tomorrow telling your sister what you believe - your date is waiting." Nudged Luke with a throw of his tongue.

"You're right Lucas; thank-you for reminding me. Your man hasn't yet lost all of his common sense." Aunt Flow informed Pamela who had left the fallen bag alone in order to stand aside for the movie-star in front of her eyes.

Aunt Flow stepped cautiously to the door, each step broke the wall of silence around her. She opened the door with a gentle pull, to reveal her date who stood with flowers in hand under the yellow porch light.

I stepped forward a little in order to view the stranger, whose eyes bulged at the sight of his date.

"Shall we depart?" Aunt Flow whispered with a heart-lightened smile in shine across her face.

"Yes please, ma’am" Stammered her date as he wiped his sweaty hands on the side of his pants.

After a swallow, he bent his elbow to let Aunt Flow's arm link inside of it. She laughed, and pushed the door to let it close on its own. A few seconds is all it took before the couple were banned from our eyes.

Pamela ran to the window to peek out after her sister. Her head craned to the right, and her eyes narrowed in strain in order to view them.

"Is that? I think that's Henry Thurible! Oh my, does Beverly know how young he is? Why he must be eight years younger then she. What a disgrace! I shall have to have a word with her when she gets back!" Pamela said as she dusted her hands against the side of her dress. "That sort of flaunting around these parts is just not decent." She added as she dusted off her hands a little harder, after she noticed that they had become shaded black with dark debris.

Pamela looked at the bag on the floor, and sighed.

"May clean that up." She said as she ran a hand across her brow in a tired motion.

"May has got studies to do." Said Luke as he stretched his pinkie finger away from the pack, and traced it on the bare flesh on the back of my shoulder.

"Well someone has to clean up the mess!" Shouted Pamela with a vicious bark.

Luke finally let go of my shoulder, and stepped toward the troublesome heap; he picked up the bag whose bottom was so drenched with raw egg it barely held under the weight of the other items inside, and then tossed it into the mouth of the garbage bin. The bottom broke before he had properly placed it in, and the items tumbled into the bins' belly. Luke laughed; and with a shake of his head tossed the brown skin that remained in his hands onto the top of the rubble.

He then sauntered to the fridge and took out an ice cool beer.

"Problem solved." He said calmly before he left to watch some TV in the living room.

"Problem solved my ass! You just threw away a ton of good groceries!" Remarked Pamela as she hunted toward the bin in order to rummage through its contents.

I took the opportunity to take my leave, before Pamela yet again remembered that I was the one who distractedly let the bag slip past my hands. I headed towards the guest bedroom, which served as my own.

I glanced around at the mess inside, and sighed. Aunt Flow wasn't the cleanest of room-mate's, despite the fact that she could flaunt off her clean, lady-like, image as though it were breakfast cereal. I glanced at the study table and sighed; a bundle of strange papers covered its head. Aunt Flow had warned me against touching them earlier during the day with the same animal aggression Pamela could summon forth at will; and so I hesitated to move them in order to clear me a study space.

I cleared my throat and looked around. The padded rocking chair was the only other comfortable spot where I could scan a large textbook from, and it was covered with sashes and frocks. I sighed as I stretched my hand out to pick them up. The material was divine to touch. I looked to the mirror with a playful twist of my mouth; then with some timidity I opened up the first sash, and wrapped it around my body. Slowly I began to stiffly open and close my arms. The material floated on the slight gust I made as I danced my arms around. I giggled, and then stopped. I looked at the sash, and furrowed my brows as I wondered what next to do with it. That was when I remembered that some people tied the things around their heads and neck. I shrugged and did so. The material brought out the slightly tanned complexion of my skin. I smiled, and then quickly dropped the smile again. Next I picked up a dress, which had bows and pearls along every rim of it. It was a gorgeous lavender colour. I pressed it against my body to see if the size would accommodate mine. Aunt Flow was quite a bit smaller then I - but I thought I could squeeze myself through.

With a smile I placed the dress on the chair as I began to hurriedly undo the buttons on my white plaid shirt; but a mild hack made me aware of the presence of another in the small room.

I turned to the doorway, and saw Luke beer in hand as he casually leaned against the door-frame. With a blush I quickly refastened the top few buttons on my top.

"Were you about to do what I think you were about to do?" Luke asked with a languid arch of his full mouth.

"No!" I defended, even though I could only guess what he thought.

"Your Aunt's clothes aren't for your play. They're expensive. I don't want you getting flimsy ideas about expensive things; she wasted all her money on these fairy costumes, and that's all she has now." He spat with a tone of disgust as he marched forward and took hold of the materialistic items in his fist, before he tossed them into the open trunk to the right of the chair. "These are for the people with no sense - who want to act as though the world is a movie show; act like everyone's a gentleman; and every hooker woman a lady." He lectured as he became more incensed by the second, while he took another fist full of clothing. "It disgusts me!" He finally steamed as he kicked the lid of the trunk closed.

Luke bowed over me, his shoulders rounded as he thrust his fingers up to my face till they became level with my eyes.

"You need a house;" He began to lecture as he pointed to one of his index fingers. "You need food, you need a spouse, and if you're male you need a job. Those are the basic essentials you have to keep straight in your head; you don't need whorish costumes."

Four of Luke's elongated digits stood in front of my vision like a line of soldiers. I silently nodded, as my heart shrunk to pea-size inside of my chest. My newly rainbow painted world popped with a sizzle,, and I was drenched in the boring, drab, black and white world once more. For a few moments I found it hard to lift my gaze up to meet Luke's face; I knew his harsh stare would crush me. I cleared my throat and kept my vision locked on his stretched out fingers, as my heart struggled to beat.

Luke grabbed hold of my jaw, and lifted my chin up so I could finally meet his eyes. He studied every feature of my face in order to see if it showed any signs of cracking. It didn't. From a very young age I was trained to bury my emotions in order to keep others guessing about my inner thoughts. I was strong in that way, and proud of it in many senses.

"Remember it." Luke finally announced as his thumb took a stretch along my skin.

I caught my breath for a moment, captured like a captive in his straight-shot stare. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't react - I was a single mass of solidity, which was bolted into position. Finally my lungs couldn't take any more punishment - I took in a breath. The aroma of fresh soap mingled with that stale scent of beer. I could only guess how that had gotten onto his hand. Perhaps it had frothed as he uncapped the lid, or perhaps he had spilt some during his walk around the house; nevertheless the scent made my stomach dance in a quiver of revulsion. I hated that yeasty odour - I had always hated it; and I grew angry that Luke would have approached me with it on him.

I frowned as a blush bloomed upon my cheeks in aggravation.

Luke smiled as his eyes kept on with their speculation. My aggravation bent and became like a twisted needle inside of my body. I breathed in and my mind would froth; I'd breathe out and I would feel the prick of the needle. My breaths continued in various combinations - in and out, deep and shallow, fast and slow. On the last breath the inhalation of it was so sharp it made me cough for a second.

Finally Luke let me off his hook, and he brought his beer to his lips as he dropped his hand from my face. A tiny trickle escaped from the mass that washed into his mouth - I watched it as it rolled off his chin. He immediately wiped the trail of the drip with the very same hand that had just taken hold of my chin moments before.

I finally had my answer, and stored it in the back of my mind.

"You're never getting out of this life." Luke murmured as he turned his shoulder.

His tone was so deep, and authentic - it hit me like a bullet. I held my breath as I listened to his heavy tread as he

walked out the door, whilst I simultaneously struggled with the bullet's sting.

Luke's arm reached back, caught the door, and with gentle ease he closed it shut.

It was then, and only then, that my knees buckled, and I fell to the floor with my truth-induced injury. I closed my eyes and concentrated on slow breathing to steady my breaths, but I refused to cry. Even out of sight - I refused to let that man make me break my own heart. I needed it as I needed my sanity; I couldn't live with it cracked. I pulled my knees close to my body as my eyes stared at a spot of tar black stain on the carpet. Then I closed my eyes, and let the sounds of silence drift around me.

A hand shook me awake. I opened my eyes, and instantly became shocked that I had somehow fallen asleep, and had dropped onto the carpet. I shook my head with a frown as I awoke my eyes with a flurry of blinks. Pamela's smile mooned above my face, as her hand shook me a little more.

"So much for studying." Her voice speculated, as her tone resounded as though it were a distant echo. She dropped her tone, and stared at me a little harder. "May, dinner's ready."

My stomach rumbled as though it had ears, and had just heard the welcome news. I nodded and slowly stood up; I instantly felt like a drunk and winced at my obvious unsteadiness. May hooked an arm around my back and helped me to the door. In the few steps it took for me to get there I regained my sense of balance.

"Chicken, potato, peas and gravy - yum." Pamela mouthed to the back of my head as she escorted me to the eating room where Luke sat in wait for our arrival.

I sat on my hard wooden chair, as Pamela progressed to hers. I clasped my hands on my lap, and Luke dipped a finger in his gravy as Pamela slowly seated. She clapped her hands together, and bowed her head. She muttered a short traditional prayer which she had chiselled in the back of her mind. Luke watched her. His finger stirred in a circular motion as Pamela talked, and it became more and more covered in the thick brown savoury dressing.

Pamela blinked her eyes open and took a glance over at Luke. By the twitch in the corners of her mouth, I could tell she was disappointed by his refusal to participate - but she blew it away, and forced a dazzling smile forth.

"Did you have a good day today at the factory?" She asked Luke, as she struggled to make the subject light.

"As good as any." Luke said bluntly, before he stuck his gravy-drenched finger into his mouth.

Pamela sucked in her breath, and bit her tongue as she fought the natural urge to attack Luke on the bad table manners he refused to hide. She scanned the table and targeted the dinner rolls.

"Roll?" She offered as she picked the plate with the rolls up from the table.

Luke shook his head, as he picked up the leg of chicken with his fingers. Pamela's nose wrinkled with disgust - but she shook her head, and pushed her attention on to me.

"Roll?" She asked in an artificially sweet tone which even I had trouble stomaching.

I nodded, and took a roll - aware of the strained vibrations that loomed around the table and above our heads. I bit into the roll as I focused my attention on the potato and peas. It was a practised tact of mine to start at the vegetables and slowly eat toward the meat. Usually I could cut the amount of fried flesh I had to consume that way, as the other two finished and grew impatient for desert.

But today Luke snapped.

"You eat that bird there first - you need the sustenance!" Luke spat as he flung a portion of his own-mouthed meat across the table toward my plate.

It landed in the middle of my plate - a pip of mush distractingly obvious in a puddle of gravy.

"My god!" Pamela exclaimed as she threw her knife and fork down onto the table.

"What? You got a problem?" Spat Luke as he flung yet another piece of debris into the air.

"Your manners are more atrocious every day." Pamela muttered as she watched the pip make its landing on the bread rolls. "You're more appalling then a pig digging its nose through its slop."

"What did you say?" Asked Luke as he banged his fist down onto the face of the table, and shook the old weathered legs the table depended on to keep standing.

"I said a farm animal has more manners - sucking your fingers, gnawing on the bone like a dog, spitting, slurping; it's no wonder guests have to hurry out the door when they arrive. I've never felt so ashamed?"

"Hey!" Luke screamed as he picked up his plate and threw it to the wall.

It hit a mirror, which fell, and shattered its pretty face on the hard floor below. I sat rock solid and felt my spine scream, Pamela fluttered her eyelids and winced, and Luke leaned on the edge of the table as he focused all of his anger on Pamela's face.

"Now you knew things about me before we were married - I've never been perfect. I'm not from the fancy-ball party that wears tuxes to their pubs. I'm as real as the day you met me; and I won't have this talk about me being an animal." Luke stressed as he thumped a sturdy finger onto the table.

"No; you're worse then that!" Murmured Pamela.

Luke's eyes widened, and his knuckles bunched in effect of hearing Pamela's words. He pounced and she jumped. She flew a few steps before she got hammered with a punch, which sent her flying toward the front door. She had turned the knob, and had it opened, by the time Luke was ready to strike yet again. She fell out the door and tripped on the pavement. Dogs barked as they heard her shrill scream pierce the air. I heard the thump of another hit even from inside the house, and then listened to the clatter of something metallic fall to the cement ground.

'The garbage bin.' My thoughts reasoned.

My ears picked up on some sort of commotion as the neighbours raced out to Pamela's rescue. Luke's voice rose to a high, before another one drowned it out.

"Go inside and calm yourself!" The new masculine baritone voice instructed.

I then heard a woman's voice murmur as footsteps clicked along the cemented pavement. Though I couldn't make out what she said - my instincts knew that Pamela was going to spend the night with the neighbours.

Luke came bustling back inside, and shuddered the frame of the whole house as he slammed the door closed. My heart drummed inside of my body as he eyed me from his position of stance. He took a few deep breaths before he spoke. In that time I had inspected his skin, and had seen that some red stained his knuckles; whether it was from him, or Pamela, I could not be certain.

"What does she think she is? She thinks she's better then me?" Luke said as he pointed to himself with his clean hand. "Just cause she had the education, and the proper family upbringing." He spat as he looked toward the door. "Not that you would tell any-more;" He muttered as he finally tore his eyes away, and walked to the table.

I watched him, my eyes glued, my body tense. Luke would usually either upturn the table, or sit. To my surprise he did neither - he just stood behind Pamela's chair deep in thought. I looked at the bloodstained fist again, and felt a sigh of relief when I saw that it was his blood which shone upon its grazed honey-tinged surface.

I felt nauseated from the strain of unknowing as my nerves danced on point edge, and decided to reintroduce the awareness of my presence in order to eliminate the tension-lit wait.

"W-why don't you sit?" I said in half-murmur.

Luke blinked his eyes and moved them on to me. He glanced at the chair in front of him, and shrugged.

"Why not?" He mumbled as he moved his feet around the chair and sat down.

The smell of food hit his nostrils, and he glanced grimly down at it. His fingertips shook as they reached toward the plate, and I knew then and there that inviting Luke to sit was the wrong decision. I covered my ears just before the plate smashed against another wall.

"The bitch!" Luke screamed.

The tablecloth and the remaining plates were next swept away. They landed onto the floor in a range of various clattering sounds; then the table became airborne and hit the brown stain the previous plate had left there; then finally Pamela's chair joined the flight trail.

I took the opportunity to take my leave, and raced for my room before Luke turned to once again face me. A couple of extra thuds were heard, and I guessed that was the effects of the other chairs being thrown.

I had just reached my room when a gust knocked me off my feet. I fell to the floor, and scrambled to my feet again. The door of my bedroom slammed behind me. I raced for the adjoining bathroom - but I was too slow. I was yanked off my feet, and fell back onto the stuffed mattress. For some reason I covered my head as one would when something was about to fall on them - water, a bucket of hail, nuts, a ceiling; but nothing fell.

Slowly I removed my arms from my head. My eyes met Luke's steaming image as he stared before me in statuesque form. He stood so composed - but something in his eyes made him seem lost, like a child who couldn't remember their home address; it momentarily made me feel sorry for him.

"Take off your shirt." He said to me, his voice seeming a little too far away for his mind to be truly present.

My pity quickly vanished as confusion rolled in upon me like a wave. I looked down at the shirt, at their tiny buttons, and then back at Luke who continued to stand there unmoving. I blinked ,and slowly reached for the top button - I bit my lip as I paused. I stared at Luke and wondered if I stayed still enough, if perhaps there was a chance that he would forget what he had just asked me.

"Take the damn thing off, or I'll do it for you!" He yelled to me.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I resumed focus on the buttons. One by one I freed them from their stronghold, until my torso could be seen through the division between both parts of cloth. After all were undone - I took in a breath, looked at Luke's eyes, and let the cloth off my shoulders. I closed my eyes as the thud in my chest drenched out the sound flowing inside of my ears, and I noticed it had a melodic sound which distracted me. It was like music, naturally composed body music - I listened to it in marvel at my new-found awareness. Only the touch of soft skin tissue against my cheek woke me from it.

I snapped my eyes wide open.

"Don't be alarmed; it'll be only the tame stuff I promise." Luke whispered as his body-weight coaxed me back onto the bed.

More kisses landed onto my face as his hands roamed over my skin. Before I knew it his mouth covered mine, and I was gulping in his warm chicken-stained breath. The more I grew aware of how awful it was the deeper I needed to breathe. I could smell it through my nostrils, and taste it on my tongue. Luke parted my legs, and eased himself over me; I felt his pelvis push against mine. I grew suddenly afraid, as I realised what he wanted to do - however it eased as I became aware that he wouldn't permit himself to loose control.

His hands grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head till my fingertips touched the wall. He pressed and gyrated his hips against mine, as he tore his lips off my face, and breathed against my ear. His hands warmed over mine, and I frowned.

I didn't understand his goal; perhaps he didn't have a goal. I felt so distant even though I was so very near as I experienced a whole evolution. I knew I was supposed to be fighting, I knew I was supposed to be scared, I knew I was supposed to be revolted - but in truth I never felt so deliciously numb in my entire existence. I even forgot that my blouse had been taken off, and that the small rounded mounds on my chest that were thinly concealed by a bra, served as guy eye-candy. There was no shame, no foreboding - just a moment of complete absent-mindedness.

I looked to the ceiling as Luke somehow freed his body from his shirt. I felt the warmth of his skin brush steadily against mine. It felt good - cosy; it was warmer then the coat I wore in the mornings to protect me from the cold outside.

I could suddenly see my future so very clearly. Days and nights feeding on this warm, numbed feeling, with spaces of hours to tread over in-between. It wouldn't be so bad. I always thought it would be horrid, or revolting, or hurtful. I would hear it as the carving of my future and weep. But now that the veil of innocence was partially lifted from my eyes, I knew I wouldn't have to cry about it any longer. I would just have to endure it, and one-day die. It was all so easy, so simple.

"Take this off." Luke instructed as he snapped my bra against my skin.

I blinked my eyes and finally blushed, as my awareness became a little more acute that he had told me to reveal my whole self to him for his pleasure. Self-consciousness stepped in, and cut short my numb sensation. I could now feel my heart-beat, as my blood raced about. All sensation within fought to make me aware of the discrepancy I had become entangled in.

"'Pamela shouldn't have left.'" An independent thought stamped out inside of my mind. "'She should have just kept her mouth shut, and lowered her eyes, if she couldn't watch Luke eat.'"

I swallowed, and became aware of the dryness inside my throat; then with tentative fingers I removed the bra. I raised a brow at the look of the nipples whose rouged colour struck out at the eyes from amongst its place on a peak of pale flesh. I began to feel a little queasy as I realised that it wasn't even interesting to look at. I averted my gaze, settled it back onto the ceiling, and began yet again to relax as my body drunk up Luke's heat like it were in the midday sun. I felt his mouth as it slid down my neck and his hands as they scraped along my arms. I then felt his mouth on one of my breasts in play as he teased it.

I frowned and lowered my hands as I sulked about the fact that I could not longer feel numb. Alarm broke out in my mind like a cry, but I closed my eyes and breathed it away as my gut sank like a dead weight. I felt tired and old all of a sudden and I yearned to grasp a mirror to see if my features had changed to accompany my emotions.

I opened my eyes, looked to the bathroom door, and then to the pillow on the far side of the bed. I felt a stream of something wet drop onto my body - but I chose not to tilt my head in order to view it; no matter what it was I was sure I didn't want to see it.

I sighed as my ears continued to hear the smack, suck, and slurp, of a hungry mouth; I was thoroughly bored - even my mind's alarm had gone to sleep. I wanted to hum, but I knew better then to make sound. I wanted to move, but I was wise enough to stay still. My leg began to cramp, and I slowly stretched it out; Luke failed to notice the daring movement.

I breathed out my breath, perhaps a little too heavily; Luke finally stopped, and snapped his head up in order to view me. I was halfway through a roll of my eyes - instantly I knew he saw what I felt.

"Not enough?" He murmured as his now moist fingers caught my face.

I glanced at him - saliva filmed his blushed mouth, and nicked his chin. I grimaced as I wondered what had just been applied to my body. I wondered if I should have been pleased. I felt awkward; like a geek who had been caught reading a book when they should have been watching a sports match like everyone else.

"I should have known you'd be hard to please." Luke said with a slight smile as he brought his lips to mine.

I caught the scent of the chicken/beer breath, and tasted its nauseating aroma once more. I wanted to groan my displeasure - but chose the option not to. My non-response manoeuvre worked, for Luke soon stopped. He smiled, and ran a thumb along my bottom lip where he left a trail of saliva. His eyes studied my face once more. I wondered if he found me more attractive then I found myself. I wondered which features he chose to pick out, and which ones he chose to ignore. I wondered if I intrigued him at all, or if I were a mere tolerance.

Luke smiled and looked over his shoulder to view my outstretched leg. He easily brought it in till it was bent yet again. His body again stretched out against mine, and I felt him once more gyrate his hips over mine. However the movement was heavier then before, more forceful. I had to make a sound to make known the uncomfortable nudge of hurt the press made.

The house was so incredibly quiet around us - the walls had even stopped their silent whispers, in order to listen in. The bed bounced underneath us, the supporting springs squeaked; and Luke's throat began to make a hefty sound. I couldn't stop myself from releasing a short stubbed laugh.

Luke's body movement halted as he instantaneously became tense and rigid. He looked at my face again as he caught his breath.

"If I were doing this for real I doubt you'd be laughing." He commented as he reached out to the right for his shirt.

I netted in my humoured grin, and forced my face to look serious. Luke stood up, and quickly replaced his shirt. He snorted to himself, and ran a couple of fingers over his mouth as his uneven breath continued to strive to settle back to normal.

"You - you shouldn't have let this happen." He breathed before he turned and strode out of the room.

I reluctantly pushed myself up to sitting position. I grimaced as I looked at myself and saw a mess of gooey saliva, thin scratch-marks, and suck prints. I took in a breath, and noticed the remaining reek upon my skin. With a grimace I reached for my shirt, and began to pat my body down.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I murmured in the cool silence.

I went to the bathroom and washed myself over with sponged soap. I re-dressed after my skin smelt like fresh lavender. I then sauntered back into the bedroom, and picked up my study book in order to resume studies. My eyes had only read a chapter ,when I heard commotion within the kitchen.

I quietly stepped out to see if Aunt Flow had returned from her nightly endeavour. I peeked through the kitchen door, and grimaced as I saw a small group of men huddled around the up-righted dinner table. I recognised them as Luke's poker buddies. My gaze glanced to the walls that had been wiped clean - only a light watery stain left any hint of the commotion that had taken place earlier that afternoon, as did the shattered porcelain that was still splayed out upon the floorboards.

I sighed, and was about to turn back to my room, when the front door swung open.

Aunt Flow made an entrance as she twirled inside - the momentum lifted the skirts of her dress to her knees, and made every eye in the place look.

"Hello gentlemen; lovely evening isn't it?" She said with a child's enthusiasm.

Luke's poker buddies greeted her with ogle-eyed glances and starched smiles. Aunt Flow danced over to the side of the room, and turned on the small radio - the static sound of classical music wafted about the place. Aunt Flow began a whimsical waltz, which shattered the men's attention on their nightly game.

"Brenda, turn that radio off." Said Luke with gritted teeth.

"But Lucas the classical sound?."

Those few words is all that leaked from Aunt Flow's painted mouth before the small radio hurtled at supreme velocity toward the wall behind her. It whizzed past her left ear, and pounded against a space of wall. The impact made it break and fall in assorted fragments.

"There now we've got no radio, you happy?" Spat Lucas.

Aunt Flow shrugged and gave him a shadowed smile, before she covered herself with her feather boa a little more and began to step

toward me. I slunk back into the shadow ready to run back to my room - but something made me stand steadfast. A strange feeling of oddity.

Lucas caught Aunt Flow's arm.

"And I don't want you disturbing May she'll be asleep by now. You create too much noise when you enter a room; you'll wake her."

"Well if that happens - though I doubt it will - she can get back to sleep." Murmured Aunt Flow with disinterested air.

"No! You listen to what I say. You're not to disturb her - sleep on the couch tonight." He ordered with a temper-lit tone as he shook her shoulder in his grasp.

"On the couch? my, my Lucas - no respectable woman would ever do such a thing." Aunt Flow said with a soft laugh before she stepped forth her shoe.

"You're not to disturb her you hear!" Said Luke as he took his fist up for a slap.

I took a gulp and stepped forward - I had seen enough violence tonight, and Aunt Flow didn't seem to deserve a hit from Luke's fist.

"I'm awake." I piped out in order to break and shatter the tension that had built.

All eyes turned to me, and I felt my skin blush from the attention. I felt as though I needed extra explanation on the reason why, and resorted to airing something partially true before I choked on a lie.

"My stomach was bothering me, so I thought I'd get some hot milk." I said with a strained smile.

Aunt Flow shone her smile forth, and took her arm out of Lucas's slackened grasp.

"Why May I think that's a delicious idea. That's what my mamma used to make for me when I couldn't sleep." She sung as she stepped forward past the ogling men and by me.

Aunt Flow vanished from view, and took the light of a movie-star with her. The men at the table blinked, and resumed focus on their cards. Only Lucas continued to look my way; and it was with a face that had so much ice, I decided to keep my eyes on the floor in order to avoid it.

I bustled into the small kitchen, took out a milk pan - then went to the fridge, and removed a carton of milk from the fridge. With ease I filled the milk pan half-way, and waited for it to boil. My heart thudded in my chest as I felt the heavy energy my intrusion caused.

"My mama used to add a dollop of honey." Luke informed me, before he moved to resume his seat. "Keeps the hunger pangs down."

I nodded, and opened the fridge again in order to get the honey. I then scrummaged through the kitchen drawer in order to find a spoon. My heart beat in my ears, and my strength felt faint. I swear I could feel Lucas's gaze on me, but I shrugged my alert sense away after I noticed with several sweeps of my eye that he had his attention firmly focused on the cards inside of his fingers.

A few minutes later I nursed a hot drink of honey-sweetened milk as I quietly stepped to my room.

"Goodnight May." Said Luke as I reached the entrance door-frame.

Lucas hadn't even turned his head, his hands were busy laying chips into the middle of the table. I rubbed my lips together, and moved to say a goodnight, when one of his friends shouted out a victory cry and stood up with a flashy grin. The other men groaned and threw their hands down as the winner scooped up the chips in his hands.

"That's all-right fellas, we got a lot of rounds to go to get that back." Said Luke with pushed optimism.

My stomach reacted with a jelly-like queasiness. I instantly wondered how much money Luke had lost. I tiptoed across the floor space to my room where Aunt May sat in front of the mirror while she busily brushed her hair. She looked over to me with her eyes, and softly smiled.

"Thanks for eliminating the predicament I was thrust into just moments ago;" She said with a bird-like coo.

"There's been too much violence enough tonight; Pamela's staying with the neighbours after Luke hit her." I voiced as I gazed at the cup of milk.

"What? Oh, my goodness gracious; I wish I knew! I would have gone up to her straight away." Said Aunt Flow with concern. "Perhaps I should go there now;"

"No, just leave her; she'll be back tomorrow - she's done it before." I said with the strictness of an adult. "And besides, Luke just lost a large hand; if you show your face he's bound to explode."

"Why? What's wrong with my face?" Asked Aunt Flow as she inspected her looks closely with the aid of the mirror.

"Nothing; he just doesn't like to see you. You're different." I murmured with a lead-headed heart.

"So what's wrong with that?" Aunt Flow asked with a laugh. "We're not soldiers -we're people; we're supposed to be different."

"Yes, but you're?" I glanced over at the clothes, and the belongings, which had once more been spread about the room.

I felt suddenly lost within their presence. I wanted to touch them, to try them on; but I then thought of the retaliation Luke would action if Aunt Flow slipped the report of me doing such a thing off the end of her tongue. I compressed my emotions over the subject, and swallowed the rest of my words.

"How was your date?" I managed to flatly air.

The introduction of the subject made Aunt Flow instantly illuminate.

"Mr Thurible is of wonderful stock. He is a mere shoemaker, but he owns a grand business. He can afford luxuries which I only dreamed of. Also he is such a gentleman - so polite, and respectful. Why he positively begged for permission to touch my hand! Usually such things are only done when the man is preparing for a kiss, or some such romantic manoeuvre."

"Pamela says that he may be quite young." I murmured with some awareness of the fact that an adult like Pamela may be best suited to handle the subject.

"Forty-one is hardly a child's age." Commented Aunt Flow with dismissive air as she undressed her ringed fingers.

"And how old are you?" I inquired with a frown, confused as to why Pamela would fuss about a forty-one year old man.

"A lady never reveals her age." Murmured Aunt Flow with a laugh.

I shrugged, and let the subject drop. I faked a yawn as I took my cooled cup to my bed. Quickly I gulped it down; the honey added a delightful little buzz to the otherwise plain tasting drink. I hardly knew why I never thought about adding such a thing before.

After having consumed the drink - I said my nightly well-wishes, and closed my eyes. Slowly I drifted to sleep, my ears tuned to the sound of Aunt Flow's soft, sweet, hum.

I woke like so many times before to the sight of my printed quilt which had been tucked right up to my chin - but there was a little difference in the air; the scream and squabble of female voices broke the air.

I frowned, and with inquisitive interest tiptoed across to the kitchen. I heard Aunt Flow and Pamela battle it out with one another - both not really bothering to hear one another's reasoning. For a while it was hard to sort out the words, and then Aunt Flow's voice dropped as she finally cracked and broke down into tears.

"He's twenty-nine." Pamela stressed. "That's ten years younger then you! He's a baby Brenda!"

"I'm not listening! I'm not listening!" Cried Aunt Flow as she raced out the front door, still sniffling from her tantrum of tears that had busted.

"You'd better listen!" Pamela yelled. "I'm not having you in this house to disgrace me!"

I heard the front door slam closed. I listened intently to Pamela shuffle about. I could tell her hands must've been shaking by the way the cutlery rattled. Something dropped, and broke; and Pamela let out a cry.

"Forget this! I'm going out for the day." Pamela murmured before she pocketed some keys and left.

I glanced about as I hung around in my shadowy spot. I was completely alone. I had been forgotten about. The house creaked on its foundation as I let the information settle inside of me. Then I smiled, and eagerly looked about. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before, and I was excited.

I rushed to the bedroom to do the first thing I wanted to do most of all - try on one of Aunt Flow's dresses. I rummaged through the spread out piles until I found one of interest. It was light pink, and very lightweight. The cloth made my skin tingle. It had sequins on the front of the bodice, and along the seams of the skirt. I licked my lips, and quickly undressed, before I fitted the dress onto me.

It was a tight squeeze, and the length was much too long; but that didn't bother me. I picked out some pink shoes which were only a little too big, and a large white feather boa. I paraded the new me in front of the mirror, and admired every curve of cloth. I twirled and danced. I had never felt more like a lady as I did at that time.

I glanced over the table, and spied a cigarette case. My hands became magnetised to it immediately, and I slowly opened it to reveal the neat rows of rolled cigarettes. With trembling fingers I picked one out, and stuck it in-between my lips. I tried to look sexy, tried to look grown up - but something was missing.

I glanced around the table, and eyed Aunt Flow's face paint. I smiled, picked up the face powder, and began to slowly apply it. After a few moments I discovered that one could apply it liberally in a careless manner, and it would make the face look covered and better. I smiled as I finished with it. My powered down face stared back at me like a mask. I grew more livid.

Next I reached for the lipstick, and very carefully ran it along my lips like I had seen Aunt Flow do. My eyes sparkled at the sight and I smiled. My teeth shone like pearls from my flawless face. I sat up a little straighter, with more pride then ever before.

I quickly sprayed on some perfume, and then picked up my cigarette again. I tried a few positions to look sexy, and then serious, and then flirty; I laughed and took the cigarette down.

"I wonder what these things taste like?" I murmured as I glanced around for Aunt Flow's lighter.

I couldn't see it - but I knew where one was.

I waltzed around to the kitchen, and slid my hand to the back of the utensils drawer. Soon I had unearthed the hidden lighter which Pamela would only use at dire times.

I stuck the cigarette into my mouth, and lit the end. I took in a deep drag, like I had seen so many adults do; but rather then get a comfortable, calming, thrill - I got a kick of revulsion.

I threw the cigarette into the sink, and coughed harshly into my fisted hand. To my dismay a loud knock sounded on the door. I instantly dove to the floor in order to continue my spasm of coughing. The knock sounded again, and then a few minutes later a voice followed.

"Brenda is that you?" Said a strange voice from the window above the sink. "Brenda? It's me; I couldn't get last night out of my mind, and have come to ask you something."

I continued with my coughing fit unable to stop.

"Brenda?" Trailed the young sounding voice.

The front door had more polite knocks impact upon its face. I covered my mouth with my hands, and tried to hold my breath - but still the coughing ceased to halt.

Suddenly to my horror the front door opened, and my mind gasped. I had forgotten to check if Pamela, through her distraction, had locked it!

Footsteps hurried toward me - I didn't even try to stand up. I was caught red handed. There was no action I could do to be able to avoid the stranger from discovering the sight of me.

Soon I saw the handsome face, and sturdy form, that belonged to the tapped shoes. He shone in my vision like a golden orb, and I had to blink in order to get my vision straight.

He glanced at me, and instantly rushed over.

"Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?" He asked as he placed the letter he carried onto the floor.

"No." I said as I managed to control my coughing fit. "I just had something blow the wrong way - you know;"

I tried not to breathe on the stranger - but I am sure he guessed what had happened. He arched an eyebrow upward, and took in a quick sniff. After a knowledgeable smile had unfurled on his thin lips, he opened his mouth, and spoke to me yet again.

"Well, let me help you to your feet." He said as he placed his hands on mine.

I calmly rose - albeit a little unsteady on my heels. I leaned my weight on his arm until I had once again caught my balance. I blushed, let go of his arm, and stepped back a little.

"Who are you?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

"Henry - Henry Thurible. I went out last night with a young woman named Brenda." Henry said with an air of pride.

"Oh yes, she's my Aunt." I said with a shy smile.

My mind added the words 'and she is not a young lady;' But then I realised what he didn't know was probably better for him.

"Your Aunt? So you must be but a baby." Said Henry with a smile that was supposed to distract my young mind from the insult his words carried.

I instantly frowned at the title '"baby'".

"Does a baby dress like this?" I asked as I swept my hands across my dress - hoping I looked more confident, and womanly, now that I nursed a bubble-vat of steamed anger.

"No;" Admitted Henry with a smile, as his vibrant eyes ran over my form. "Most definitely not." He added, as he chipped the real-life image of me into his memory.

"So what do you do with yourself?" Asked Henry with a snobbish tilt of his head, as he leaned against the kitchen bench.

"Nothing; I await the hand of a suitor to take me away from here." I said with a whimsical tone, which I tried to make sound more matured then what I was.

"Like a fairy tale princess; that is brave." Said Henry as he bent down to collect the letter he had placed on the floor.

"Brave? Why?" I asked with a disgruntled frown.

"Men aren't the most reliable with a certain type of woman." Henry stated as his wide smile set into place. "Pretty girls are what they get bored of - there needs to be a substance, something reliable, a strength, which appeals; may it be a personality trait, a gift, or a talent." He looked at me again, but this time his eyes hid something dark.

I felt as though I had become hit with a wet chill; and I didn't like it, not at all.

"What is your greatest talent?" He queried.

"I?I can read." I stated with a frown.

"She can read." He said with a laugh. "That's your talent?"

"But isn't it a good one?" I asked with a blush.

"Usually women sing, play piano, write, or maybe?" Henry shrugged and let the sentence go.

"Maybe what?" I inquired with a narrow of my gaze.

Henry blushed to himself as he folded the envelope inside of his jacket pocket.

"Maybe they kiss well." He murmured his as his eyes danced.

"Oh;" I said dismally as I let my pride go.

"That doesn't sound like you've built a knack for that talent." Henry said with a laugh.

"No, I haven't; I've only kissed someone once."

"Once? How appalling! But oh, I forgot you are still young; it's easy to forget such things when you're dressed like your Aunt." He finished as he picked some pellets off his jacket.

"You know, you speak very well; it's hard to believe that you're just a shoe maker." I said as I took some time to glance him over.

"I'm a good shoe maker, with a wonderful hobby - I breed horses in my spare time. My family owns an estate." He murmured as he brushed his coat. "Both jobs pay well." He added.

"Oh, but don't you get tired?" I asked, shocked that someone could be so responsible.

"We have good workers - I can visit the estate, then come back into town to ensure the shoe business is going well and that the shoes are being made to my liking;" Henry said with a wave of his hand.

He took out a watch from his pocket and gazed at the time - his eyebrows rose, and he grimaced. Time was obviously an important issue, for before I knew it he had my hand in his and was in the midst of saying his farewell.

"Tell your Aunt I think she's a wonderful woman; and give her this letter." He said as he removed the envelope from his jacket pocket, and placed it into my free hand.

I clasped the envelope without a thought as I kept my eyes linked to his.

"It was a delight to meet you, err?"

"May." I piped.

"May, I like that;" Henry said with a gentle smile. "It was a delight; and in the future if you're going to smoke - use a filter." He advised as he took out a thin black and silver ornament from his breast pocket. "This is your Aunt's - she left it on the table last night; give it to her along with the letter."

I nodded dumbly as he pressed the thin stick into my fingers, and closed the fingers around it. He then bent down low, and kissed my hand - a neat kiss, which felt a lot lighter then the ones Luke had placed on my skin.

He left, and I beamed at his exit. I then picked out the burning cigarette from the sink, and fixed it to the filter. I took a deep breath, and gave one brief cough; but I was more relaxed then before, and I smiled having adapted to the grown up task.

I removed the now almost completely burnt-out cigarette. I remembered that adults stubbed the thing, and so I stubbed the nub inside of the sink. I ran some water over it and finally placed it into the bin.

Having pleased myself I spun to place the mysterious letter on the table-top of my dresser where Aunt Flow's make-up lay. She would be bound to see it as she returned.

"Music! We need music!" I said to my reflection as I tried my best to imitate Aunt Flow's tone.

I went to the kitchen, and paused; in my dazed state I quite forgot that the radio had been smashed. I sighed and glanced around - dancing to no music at all seemed like a stupid idea, and so I dropped the fantasy.

"Well what else do adults do?" I asked the silent walls.

I looked around and eyed the object in the corner next to the spice rack. My eyes lit up in an instant. I ran to the spice rack, grasped a brown bottle by the neck, and pulled it up to my chest. Carefully I removed the loose cork with one pull, and placed it on the table. I took a sniff and instinctively craned my neck-back. The fluid inside was very strongly scented. I took in a deep breath.

"Well here we go;" I said as I swung my head back and spilt the liquid inside of me.

I gulped it down and cringed - its taste was more pungent then the scent. Nevertheless I braved another gulp, and then another after. I was halfway through the bottle when the front door opened yet again.

I froze in place, unmoving, as I stood with the bottle iced to my lips. I felt the change in the air, and my alarm buzzed like a volt of electricity inside of my brain.

"What the hell?" A voice boomed as a pair of shoes raced across the floor.

The bottle was swept from my hands; it quickly fell, and was then banged onto the kitchen bench beside me. I swear I heard the glass crack - but I had no time to turn my neck to see. Before I knew it I was swept off my feet, and hurled across vast amounts of space until I tripped into the bathroom.

Luke held the back of my neck as he pushed my head down toward the sink. Water splashed around my cheeks and whirled down the drain in front of my mouth. Luke grabbed a bar of soap and began to fervently rub my right cheek. I felt a shortened nail scratch against the flesh as white foam fell into the corner of my mouth. I coughed and brought my own hands up in order to pry the soap away from Luke's hand.

Luke let the soap drop into the sink.

"I want that trashy gunk rubbed off your face!" He steamed. "And I want you out of this clown dress." He added as he buffed a portion of expensive cloth. "That woman - that damn woman; she's a bad influence. I'm going to put a stop to it." He said with a lethal edge. He glanced at me, and then glanced to the door. "I'm most definitely gonna put a stop to it." He said before he marched out the door.

I took my head out of the sink, and wiped a warm tear from my eye. I don't know why my hands shook, but they did. I took in a breath, and slowly began to rub my skin yet again. Colour swirled within the water, and disappeared fast as I scrubbed away.

I sighed, and felt heat stir behind my eyes. I heard Luke shout Pamela's name as his feet charged about the house. Something heavy was thrown against a wall - I guessed it was a chair. I heard Pamela's name echo about the place, and then a shatter broke through the air.

I dropped the bar of soap, and very gently moved to undo the fastenings on the dress. Each movement I actioned felt as though it should hurt - like the skin of the dress was a part of my body, like it were my very own skin. I felt my lips quiver, and my skin shake. I had no idea why something so lifeless should make me react like that.

My insides got a pound of anguish-induced pain as I slowly stripped the material down off my shoulders. The cool air whipped around my body, and goose-pimpled my skin. I closed my eyes, and held my breath, as I made the effort to take down the rest of the dress with one purposeful yank.

I opened my eyes, grasped the bar of soap again, and rubbed it against a damp cloth. Then I rubbed my neck and skin one slow stroke at a time. The house I noticed was quiet - I immediately wondered if Luke had gone. I then shrugged, and wet the cloth under some cool water. After I had squeezed out its soapy lather, I patted my skin clean, and then wrapped myself in a towel. I looked down at my ankles, and with much effort I stepped out of the fallen skin of dress. I was pure once more, (plain once more), and I guessed Luke would make sure that I stayed that way. While under his care I would never be given the opportunity to wear such a lavish skin ever again.

The thought of that truth made me miserable.

I made it to the entrance door before my insides decided to break down. I couldn't take a step further; my legs became part of the movement, and collapsed on me. I landed onto the floor with a 'thunk', I then curled myself into a foetal position, and freely wept. I had no idea how long I stayed that way - but I cried till beyond exhausted. I cried till I had barely any breath to breathe with. Then I lay still freshly steamed and cored, with nothing but an inward soreness to accompany me.

I was partially asleep when footsteps approached my room again.

"Pamela's not here." I heard Luke say as he knelt beside me. "Why?"

"She and Aunt Flow had a fight about that guy she went out with." I murmured not even bothering to look at him.

I didn't even care to inform Luke that Henry had come over, that Henry owned a farm with horses, that Henry was indeed wealthy, and that Henry's interest was indeed kindled by Aunt Flow despite their age difference.

"Well I guess I can wait then." Said Luke as impatience drilled the undertone of every solitary word.

I closed my eyes and waited for Luke to move off - go to the kitchen and pour himself a beer, or go to the lounge to turn on some TV; but he didn't move - he didn't even stand, he just stayed where he was as the clock ticked in the distance.

"That dress didn't even become you - it just made you look silly." He murmured. "And make-up is for old people with something to hide. You don't need it. You're not a hag-bag."

I felt his hand place a pat on my left shoulder - but I was beyond caring about it. The hand sat there and simmered - I guessed for five whole minutes, before he finally removed it from my skin.

"You should dress." He said before a bang of the front door caught his attention.

I did not see Luke - but I could tell by the way he in took his breath that his body was alert and stiff. Our ears both caught Aunt Flow's dainty drawl as she commented about the mess in the front room. Before I could lift my head Luke's feet had taken him out of the room. The bedroom door closed behind him. I felt the vibrations from the effect of its close on the floor where I lay. Within an instant I heard Luke's yelling, and I knew staying inside was the best thing for me to do.

I stood, moved to my dresser drawer, then took out a grey skirt and a white cardigan. They were plain, and a little loose - but they were comfortable; and comfort was what I now needed as the yelling turned fierce and loud.

I slowly collected the dress I had worn, folded it with effort, and placed it back into the trunk. I then put a few more items in there just to create a little more space in the small room.

A crash made me jump, and I looked to the door. I wondered what had happened as I was struck by a pang of guilt as something inside told me that nothing would have happened if I hadn't tried to experiment with my look in order to become more adult.

A sigh escaped through my teeth as I gazed at the tabletop. Make up covered its head and gave its top a messed up image. I picked up a few lips-sticks, and powders, and placed them inside of Aunt Flows' make-up bag. Then I spied Aunt Flow's letter - the one Henry had given me.

I glanced at the door and heard a steady stream of yelling - most of the noise came from Luke, and I knew he would keep Aunt Flow occupied for at least ten more minutes.

I picked up the letter and carefully opened it. Henry had just tucked rather then stamped the back in place, and so it just took a quick flip of the fingers for the letter to become exposed.

I took out the folded piece of paper and read.

Dear Brenda,

I found our time together a delight last night; I can hardly remember when I had such a good time. I would like to see you again - but this time I would like you to come over to my place. I would like to prepare something special just for your eyes only. Please tell me you will come; I can tell nights spent without you will become increasingly dreary.

Have your reply posted to me, or better yet, come to the store and tell me in person your wish.

I impatiently await your reply.

From the bosom of my heart,

Henry.

"Oh," I whispered with a glint in my eye.

A shrill scream broke my concentration - I quickly folded the piece of paper inside the envelope, and tucked the lip. A shiver still ran down my spine as I timidly opened my bedroom door. The atmosphere was eerily quiet all of a sudden.

I tip-toed across the flooring, and peeped my inquisitive eyes around the open door frame that served as the entranceway to the kitchen. What I saw stung my eyes. Aunt Flow was being firmly held down by Luke, her thin wrists were limp in his grasp. I could tell Luke must have hit her for blood trickled to stain her lower lip.

"I just saw the nicest kid trying to be like you - you know what that's like? It's like having your eyes burnt with hot coals! Everything about you disgusts me - and I want you gone, you hear? You drink, you flaunt yourself to everyone around, you try to stick stakes in our hearts and kill us with your otherworldliness. But you aren't better - you drink our drink, you eat our food, you live in our house without pitching in for the rent. You're a loafer, and your welcome is outdated."

"You're a brutish rogue! Anyone, please; I'm in danger - HELP!" Screamed Aunt May - but a firm snap of Luke's wrist brought her cries to a stop.

"You know I've heard you weren't welcome in your town cause you liked boys to men. What's the matter Beverly - can't take what a man has to offer?" Luke said as he reached down to his pants.

I turned around and sat on the floor as I listened to material being ripped, breaths being pushed forth, whimpers being sounded. I heard it all as I sat frozen - unsure of what to think, oblivious to what I should feel. I tried to shed a tear for my Aunt, but it wouldn't come. It didn't last long. No longer then five minutes. A nag in my mind criticised and pondered what the point of such a short-lived activity - but obviously it had made an impact on Aunt Flow, for she came sprinting past me so fast as she sobbed into fisted hands.

She dove into my room and latched the lock. I blinked, and gulped, as I realised what had just happened in the briefest of moments. I was supposed to be in that room - but instead I was in the hallway listening in to something I'm sure I was never meant to hear. I had been quietly listening - not trying to help or send a signal to someone who might help - just staidly listening in the dark shadows like some sort of sneak, some sort of spy.

Reason warned me that if Luke found me here there would be a new stir of words falling off his whip of a tongue. So I stood up, and was about to make my way to the bedroom door, when a hand pulled me back and had me pinned against the wall with a harsh thud.

"Enjoy the show?" Luke asked as he wiped a trail of sweat off his cheek.

"What show?" I almost said - but I opted to hold my breath instead.

"She won't open the door - you should have stayed inside. Now you'll have to go to sleep on my bed." He said with a smile, which was equally greasy and alluring at the same time.

"I'm not really that tired." I managed to murmur as something inside my body shrivelled up all moisture inside of me.

Luke nodded his head as he slicked back some flyaway hair with one stroke of his hand.

"You'll get tired. Either way your room will be inaccessible for a couple of days." He said as his breaths panted out through his throat.

"Why?" I asked with a frown. "It's not hard to open a door."

"Your Aunt's a loon. She's going to be very difficult from now on." Said Luke in a matter-of-fact tone, as he eyed me for signs of showing the same emotional disease as my Aunt had.

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned. "Have you actioned that before?"

Luke rolled his eyes and momentarily looked to a high place while

pieced in thought.

"Your Aunt has rocks for brains." He finally managed to say. "Old weathered rocks." He murmured as he ran a hand over his chin. "She'll be leaving very soon." Luke added as he looked to the kitchen. "Do you know when Pamela will be back?" He then asked as a dribble of sweat rolled down his forehead and over his face.

"She mentioned going out all day." I said with a stiff shrug.

"All day?" Luke repeated as he licked his lips whilst he glanced at the fridge door.

"Yes." I lipped as I moved away from Luke.

Luke's hand snapped on my wrist and he rotated his eyes back toward me. They were dark and cold, yet shone like glassy fire. I frowned and leaned in a little to take a closer look - I had never seen his eyes like that before.

"Found something you like?" Luke asked as his fingers warmed my skin.

"Your eyes look as though they are burning." I said as I shook my head and pulled away.

"Don't be ridiculous." Luke scoffed as he pulled me toward the kitchen.

He opened the fridge door. Inside sat a pitch of iced tea and a few bottles of beer.

"You want some tea?" Luke asked as he let go of my wrist in order to clasp a cold beer.

"No." I said as I rubbed my sore wrist.

Luke expertly grabbed a bottle cap opener, and tossed the lid off. He took a few gulps and then took the bottle away. He leaned over the sink and gazed at the wall. His stance was heavy, his muscles vibrated with energy. I tried to read his face but his stern far-away look revealed nothing. I gave up on trying to successfully speculate, and I let my eyes wander about the place. The counter was covered with a puddle of spilt wine and cracked glass, ants raided a cold basket of stale muffins, and a fly buzzed over some potted basil by the window.

I sighed to myself, and ran a hand through my fringe. I suddenly felt tired and glum, and hungered to let my body fit in-between some warm sheets.

"I might lie down after all." I murmured as I stepped away.

Luke snapped his gaze onto me, and then casually waved his fingers before he pressed the bottle to his lips again. 

I walked through the curtain hanging that hung over the doorway. Luke had broken the original door off as he and Pamela fought one time. They were supposed to get it fixed, but neither one of them bothered to call the carpenter.

My eyes fixed on the made bed in front of me, and I hurried my steps over to it. With a sigh I slid myself in and pulled the blankets up to my chin. The mattress was a bit more comfy then mine, and it felt good to lay upon. I smiled, and closed my eyes. I focused on my breath, and listened to its rhythmic tide as it came in and blew out. It was as though I were listening to the tide of the ocean - it relaxed me; and I began to drift into calm sleep.

'In out, in out;' I continued to drift away.

However my nose picked up a sharp scent, and my body stopped its drift. It came again, and I woke up a little more. Then the scent hit me one more time, and my eyes snapped open.

My eyes met Luke's, and he instantly flinched. He ran a hand over his face, and as he did so I noticed wet red blood. I didn't speak - I just stared. Luke moved his hand off his face and placed it onto mine. My heart beat extra strong, and my skin chilled, as I felt the warm wetness of blood spread upon it.

In no time at all his mouth had crashed over mine and began to devour my lips. My pillows of pulp were pushed and squeezed until they began to hurt. I felt the pressure of his body on top of mine as he settled himself over me. It was uncomfortable, and I squirmed a bit to get him to ease the heaviness. Luke rolled to the side a little in order to ease the weight, and then let my lips go.

He lay back next to me, and stared at the ceiling as he ran his bloodstained hand over his face. I didn't ask him how he had cut it - I didn't really want to know. I just pulled the blankets to my chin again as I silently commanded my body to stop its thud.

I looked to the ceiling and then over to Luke. His eyes were motionless, his breath was slow and controlled.

"You know how it's going to be." He finally murmured.

"What?" I asked.

Luke rolled his eyes toward me.

"Pamela, she loved me for the type of man I was. I was solid and worked. I could excite her just by breathing over her ear."

I blushed, and blinked, as I began to feel like more of an outsider to his world. All I could think about was the blood that he had smeared over his skin. I swallowed, and nodded, even though I had no idea what point he was trying to get at.

My mind stayed fixated solely on the blood; I slowly became interested in how much he was going to loose before he bothered to bandage the wound. Luke could gurgle words all night, and I wouldn't care. My heart was in peace, but it wasn't warm. It was cold, and overshadowed with a cloud of gloom, which Luke made resurface when he pushed me to skin Aunt Flow's pretty things away. I didn't care for his words, and I didn't care for him. With a shrug, I tore my eyes away from his blood, and turned my back in order to get some sleep.

I woke to the smell of smoked food. My stomach greeted the smell with enthusiasm while I myself recoiled. I could hear shouts come from the kitchen, and I glumly settled my head back down on the pillows. I was exhausted despite the fact that I had just awakened from my dreams. I had dreamt of nothing but black space; like my thoughts, my mind was a complete blank.

I was cold, and didn't bother to move despite my curiosity. I was glad I didn't move because a few minutes later I saw something crash. The shouts came closer, and I could hear the words clear.

"I'm not having that floozy in here any-more. You don't like it you can go stay with the neighbours for a couple of days, while I phone up the quacks." I heard Luke shout.

"Quacks? And what will they do? She's my sister!" Retaliated Pam.

"Anyone who acts the way she does is not normal." Defended Luke.

"And how does she act? She just likes to dress?"

"Like a movie star - like she's above everyone. Well she ain't no star, and those dresses don't fit?"

"So I'll buy her some second hand ones! Will that make it better?" Asked Pam clearly at the end of her rope's length.

A pause waited, and I held my breath as I waited with anticipation for Luke's answer. None came, and Pamela soon came charging into the bedroom.

She looked at me rolled up in her blankets, and gave a toss of her head.

"Are you ill?" She asked, as she brushed a tear away from her puffed up cheek.

"No; I fell asleep." I murmured.

"You should be in your own bed." Scolded Pamela with a weary sigh.

"Aunt Flow locked the door." I murmured in response.

"That's right she locked the door - mark of a crazy woman if you ask me. May needs her room you know." Said Luke from the open curtain.

"Crazy, my sister is not?" Began Pamela.

"She's as crazy as that Old Mrs Harris, and you know where she went." Butted in Luke.

"I'll have your tongue gauged out!" Screamed Pamela as she threw a bottle of perfume at Luke.

It hit him smack bang on the head, and cause an instant cut. Luke sprang forward, and in no time had Pamela on the floor - her lips cut, and her face pulverised.

I gritted my teeth, and pulled the blankets up to my nose - I had never seen Luke hit her with such vehemence before. Usually I would be inside my room, with my ears covered, as I waited for the breakages and crashes to die down. Then I may not have seen Pamela for a few days - not until her face had healed a little anyway.

But now as I saw it first hand, I felt my insides break into sobs. Every hit that I heard, I could also feel through my bones; and it was terror that I saw as flesh got pulverised to the marrow.

"You're the one who's crazy you animal!" Pamela burst, before a swift kick sent her moaning.

Luke threw some of Pamela's belongings into a bag, and then helped her to her feet.

"Go and stay with the neighbours if you can't take it." Luke said as he ushered her to the curtain drape.

"Don't do this to my sister." She begged. "I'm sure there's a very good reason?"

"No reason is good enough; she's going." Affirmed Luke in a stern tone.

Pamela looked round her shoulder at me as an afterthought - but one push from Luke swiped me out of her mind. In no time at all Pamela had left, and a broken down weight loomed in her absence.

I sighed to myself, and settled my head down on the pillow again. I was so hungry I felt quite nauseous. My face felt as though it would turn green - but I dared not move. My breaths began to find it hard to become sucked inside of my body as I tensed underneath my skin.

Luke breathed heavily as he leaned on the door-frame after he heard the front door slam shut. He exhaled as if winded, and took a moment to sob into his hand. The tears lasted less then twenty seconds - before he jerked his head back up, and stiffened his spine. Luke caught his breath, and stepped back until his calves hit the base of the bed; then like a bomb his body crashed down.

I felt the mattress soften under his backside, and lift on the part I had claimed for my own body. My body sensed a rush of nerves as I sat there in sickened stun. I could still hear the hits from his fist reverberate inside of my eardrum, and cringed at his presence being so near.

Luke restrained a sniff, and slowly glanced over his shoulder at me. I wondered what sort of reflection mirrored back at him as I sat with my insides melting into mush. I was unlike myself in the terrifying moment. I was weaker then ever, and had no knowledge of how I should act in order to regain a sense of strength and equality.

Luke sighed, and reached one of his hands out to me. I began to shiver as I saw it coated in splashes of Pamela's blood. Luke frowned, and opened the covers in order to slide his body through. I watched him as he slid over like a slow moving lizard that was crawling towards a sunny patch of tree trunk.

His hot breaths spilled over my face as he touched my lower half under the covers. I looked toward the door with the curtain, I glanced toward the light, and some loose belongings, that had been spilt on the bedside table. Luke caught my face, and bent his head low till his lips touched mine. I breathed in pure fire, and my lungs instantly wanted to burst.

I shivered evermore despite the warmth that covered it. Then I felt something moist and hard charge and hit me with a force so strong it took my breath away. I tore my mouth away from Luke's, and gasped as another charge hit my body. I tried to sit up - but Luke caught my throat, and kept me down.

I closed my eyes, and felt it again, taking away my need to urinate as a strong hurt sprung up from my body alongside the slide of tears in my eyes.

"There's something hurting?" I breathed through my own panic.

Luke's hand let go of my neck, and clenched the pillow beside my head. His face came close until his fiery breath spilled over me.

"It's just me - don't worry." He whispered before another strike came with such a force, that my mind spun with disbelief.

I quickly fevered, and peered over Luke's shoulder as he bent his head down to quicken his actions. It was at that moment I realised every good thing I had known about him was a farce. The pain I felt coincided with my new belief that he didn't ever care for me at all - what he did was just a message of pure hatred for me as a female. I found my insides darken with hatred, which only made him more forceful. Finally I closed my eyes, and promised myself that I would never care.

Two mornings later a group of professors from out of state escorted out Aunt Flow out of our house. Her hair was wild from days of neglect, her make up was smeared from the tears, her skirts were torn from what the doctors prescribed as her desire for self-harm. Aunt Flow looked at me with a distant gaze before she was nudged out the door, her cracked heart could be seen through their transparent colouring.

Luke stood beside me as he gnawed on a quarter piece of apple, enjoying the moment of my Aunt's supreme defeat. One of the doctors approached him, and shook his hand as he ensured Aunt Flow's safety in the centre they owned in the country.

"We've seen cases like these all the time." He murmured before he clipped his heals together and walked out the door.

The doors of the outside car slammed shut, the engine revved like a roaring animal.

"Did you see her?" Asked Luke with a smirk. "You'd think the end of the world had come." He chuckled out before he took another bite of apple.

The car took off like a rocket on his next swallow, and his rigidity quickly eased as he turned to face me. He put the left over portion of apple up to my lips, and pressed its hard juicy flesh against them. I opened my mouth to let in the portion as he calmly wedged it inside. His apple stained fingers gently swept over my chin before he dropped his hand altogether.

"I did you as well, and your taking it in like a lady." He said with a measured smile. "That's old broad - crazy." He murmured before he took his lips down to mine, and gave me a quick kiss which left me heavier then a couple of days ago.

"So you did harm my sister." Said a hoarse voice from the doorway.

Luke snapped his head toward Pamela's battered and teary-eyed form as she tiredly shuffled inside like a lost stranger.

"And he harmed you and you didn't say a word!" She screamed as she pointed an accusing finger toward me.

"I would've denied it - gotten the pin put on somebody else; it's not that hard." Said Luke as he took down Pamela's finger.

She snapped her hand away from his.

"Don't you touch me." She said through clenched teeth as her eyes fumed with wild hunger. "Don't you ever touch me."

Pamela snapped her head towards me, and I grimaced at the complete misery that tore through her like a deep, dark, cut.

"I'm through - I'm through!" She wailed before she turned to run back upstairs to the neighbours.

Luke laughed as he took a few steps forward in order to close the door.

"A couple more days and she'll be back." He said through a light-hearted smile. "That's okay; just means I get a couple more days with you." 

I felt a surge of sick stir in the pits of my stomach, as I stood on the spot unmoved. I felt my face pale, and my blood turn cold.

"Go and have a shower. I'll make you a breakfast." Said Luke.

I nodded, and turned to go back to my room.

I looked around my room, and gasped. Aunt Flow's belongings spread about the place like gleaming stars. My heart leapt with delight, and I quickly paced to pack a range of items in the back of my own drawers, under the mattress of my bed, and behind the storage boxes in my cupboard; the rest I stuffed into the trunk, which I then slid into the far corner with the hope that Luke would overlook it when he next sauntered in.

With butterflies in my belly I moved to the bathroom. Upon the sink I saw one of Aunt Flow's cigarette filters with a stubbed out cigarette on its end.

I looked to the mirror, and smiled at the reflection before I took an acted puff of the cigarette.

"How do you do?" I said with an air of light snobbery, which mimicked Aunt Flow's tone to perfection. "My name is May, and I'm a refined lady." I murmured as a smile broke from the barricaded edges of my mouth, while polished stars glittered inside of my sunshine eyes.