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Chapter 7 Part 3
April 7th, 2003
EveningI do hope James left. He had trouble get in through the window. But it’s a bit easier getting out, I think. I have tried, but I’m a bit shorter. It didn’t go well for me. Damon would be angry if he found out James sneaks into the house. That’s what James says. Maybe I should ask Damon if it’s okay. Mummy always let me have friends. She was always sleepy, though.
All the other kids in my grade get to do whatever they want. I heard Tami talking about how she got smokes from her mum’s purse—Damon would have a fit if I ever did that. I don’t think he smokes, though. He’s studying to be a doctor. I think that’s why all the other mums like him. I heard them say something about his money. Maybe if I smoke Tami will be my friend. Everyone seems to like her. She’s pretty, and she’s already got boobs. The biggest in the year. I bet I couldn’t even fit them in my hands. But I’m pretty sure I’ve seenRelated chapters
Foster Chapter 7 Part 4
December 27th, 2012EveningSasha I can picture it vividly. His teeth tugging at my clitoris. Fingers bucking up inside of me relentlessly. I’m sure I begged for mercy on that dining table, hands wound through his hair. Though the only thing that left my mouth was a strangled “Oh…” and a string of words I’m not sure of. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when I roll over. He’s wide awake beside me with a book in hand. ‘In Cold Blood’. Figures. In any other circumstances, I’d feel ashamed I’m stark naked with this man dressed rather decently, bundled up in his duvet with a dull throb in my groin and haunting memories the evening. But I smile, as darkly as I can. I wouldn’t have half as much courage if I wasn’t half-asleep. “Can I see it?” He shuts his book. He’s a little more confused than I would have expected. “What?” It makes perfect sense to me, what. Though, I suppose I am half-asleep. And com
Foster Chapter 7 Part 5
December 28th, 2012Morning There was a time when I despised coming to work. Not too long ago, actually. There was just something about the tedious tasks and awful coffee and the fact it’s all I seem to do with my life. But now there’s Damon. Exchanging meaningful stares. Smiling in passing. Brushing hands. Quick moments in the breakroom. Going home has a bit more meaning now, too. I’m not just getting ready to sleep the day off for my next. We ramble about our days in the car home. Make dinner together. Brush knees under the table like school children. Sit and watch tele. Or get up to no good. I’ve got last night in mind. “You know…” Tami hasn’t been rocking about in her chair. Not since I swapped them this morning. Mind you, I’ve got a rather full bladder I’m reluctant to empty just because I know I’ll come back to the invalid chair. Still, she turns to face be. Albeit carefully. Sets her chin in her hands. Smile’s that troublesome sm
Foster Chapter 8 Part 1
December 29th, 2012 Morning “You totally have an egg!” Tami pulls back my hair like a child lifting their teacher’s skirt—only the ass is this blaring injury I just can’t seem to hide. I only have vague shape of myself in my sleeping monitor to try to smooth my bangs back over. At least, what’s left of them. “I don’t have an egg.” “Does it hurt?” I wish she’d just bugger off with that stupid grin as she sits there on her half-broken chair. She rocks backward and forward on it like a seesaw. It’s quite impressive, actually. I can’t wait to see her hit the deck. “Of course, it hurts.” “Oh, my lordy.” I watch her hands snap over her mouth. Something tells me I don’t want to turn around. Well. I was right. I shouldn’t have turned around. “Sasha?” I have half a mind to lie to any man walking up with a bouquet so absurd. “This is she.” Tami butts in. Almost a
Foster Chapter 8 Part 2
December 30th, 2012 Morning A corpse followed me in my dreams. An alive one. In a tattered cardigan with sunken eyes and matted red hair. She clawed at my heels as I tried to run. Grabbed me by the ankles. Stuck me with a needle and laughed as I sobbed. And a man stood by her side. Her companion. He put his hands on me. Tore me from my clothes. I screamed and I screamed, and nothing came out. When I wake up, my back is a little stiff. Mouth dry. Corner of my lips wet. I must be drooling. I should wipe it off. But I try. And try. And try. But there’s no feeling in my arm—I’m actually not sure that I can move it at all. Am I a cripple now? How on earth am I going to make a living typing away at work with one arm? This is bad. “Alright, alright, budge up a sec, will you?” I open my eyes. It hadn’t occurred to me just yet. James is staring straight into my eyes, hair a mess, face creased with sleep, ja
Foster Chapter 8 Part 3
December 31st, 2012 Morning I don’t think I’ve woken up so gently in quite some time. The wind is howling, whipping around the house like it will just pick us up and carry us off at any second. Now I know how Dorothy felt. Maybe I’ll get some nice new shoes like she did. Though, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind waking up in some faraway land. A land where the neighbours don’t know me as Damon’s kid and I don’t have to spend each work day staring at him and just wishing I could throw my arms around him in the hallway or kiss his cheek in passing. I suppose I could. I just don’t think that I could handle the talk of it all. If there’s one thing this village is good at, it’s talking. We’d slept in separate beds again. Mainly because we weren’t sure what time Chloe would get in. And if I’m honest, I’m not quite sure how I am going to survive the nights with her here. It would all be a great
Foster Chapter 8 Part 4
December 31st. 2012 About Midnight I wonder if Tami and James will notice I’m gone. They seemed well plastered. Tami, at least. James has never been a crazy drinker. Knows his limit. I wish I did. I lost count of tequila shots about half-way into the night, which is never a good thing. I think the one I had for good measure on my way out was a bit too much. My stomach is churning. I very well might vomit on my shoes. It certainly would warm me up a bit. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not dressed for the walk home. Still, I’m not far now. I can do it. I’m sure of it. I was a competitive swimmer, once upon a time. Can’t get fitter than that. I thought New Year’s Eve would be fun. Bit of a joke, that thought. I should have known two drinks in that all I’d be able to think about was how Damon’s probably at home happily shagging his wife and thinking about how great it is to finally
Foster Chapter 8 Part 5
He’s stopped walking. Wrapped his arms around my waist. Headlights are lighting up the street corner around the bend. I suppose he doesn’t want to look like he’s taking a woman hostage on New Year’s Eve. “Surely daddy would have told you not to get yourself into any compromising positions after the last time…” He has that look in his eye that says I’m going to kiss you now, though warns me not to resist. But to be completely honest, I think I’m about to be sick and I would rather keep my life than spray him in the face. So, I struggle. Smack at his shoulder. The street is awfully bright now. I can see that bruise so clearly, I wish I hadn’t. “I’m going to-” “Sasha!” Again, that slam of a car door. And he pulls back just like he did last week, only he doesn’t tell me to be quiet. He stares at me with a fury I don’t think I’ve ever seen alight in his eyes. And footsteps pound the pavement. Bertrand releases me a little too quickly. I stumble a bit. Land on the
Foster Chapter 9 Part 1
January 1st, 2013 Morning Damon I woke without an alarm just past seven in the morning. A little late, at least for me. I read through the news quietly, I know I would win this morning. The French only burned eleven hundred cars this New Year’s—Sasha hates the French. She would probably mention the five hundred odd people injured by fireworks in the typically rowdy Pilipino New Year’s celebrations. The car fires, I think, are the perfect balance between humour and tragedy. Though, she would hate me making light of any tragic news. In any case, that is the whole point of the game. That and to have something to inject into small talk all day. She stirs beside me, though I’m not hopeful she’ll wake. She’s stirred many times. She will roll over with a grunt and fall back asleep. So, I look. And there’s no harm in it. She fell asleep in my arms in the bathtub after what could have been half an hour of si
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