Hillary_Flesh and Blood (11 page)

“
Yes,
”
Hillary agreed in a hoarse, quiet whisper,
“
yessss.
”

He
’
ll never touch you again....

“
Never again,
”
Hillary repeated as if entranced.

He
’
s not your father anymore....

“
No, no...he
’
s not my father anymore.
”

Make him suffer...make him suffer...make him suffer....

“
Suffer... suffer....
”

Hillary
’
s eyelids grew heavy as she repeated the word. Leaving the sickening mess stretched between her chest and upper abdomen, she was lulled to sleep by images of her father bleeding and mutilated, begging for mercy.

The following morning, Hillary awoke feeling strangely refreshed. Even the crusty smear on her midsection didn
’
t ruin her mood. It was as if she had been reborn. Her life had purpose once more. She had a mission. She knew what she had to do.

It was Sunday morning. Hillary glanced over at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was just after seven. Normally she would have no desire whatsoever to get out of bed. Today, however, she threw aside her
blanket
and sprang out of bed. She glanced at her naked body as she passed the mirror attached to bureau.

He
’
ll never touch that body again....

Hillary smiled. For the first time in
nearly two years
, her smile was genuine. She was soothed by the optimism of her new companion, the voice in her head...the voice of reason. It was the only friend she needed now. A friend who would not judge her or lead her astray, or worse, ignore her pain. The voice would make everything right again.

Still smiling, she walked to her dresser drawers and pulled out some clothing. She had long since stopped caring about how she looked or whether her clothes matched. Today was no exception. She pulled out a plain white cotton panty, a blue bra, a pair of blue jeans and a striped red and white thin cotton sweater. It was good enough for her. Before leaving the room, she pulled on her robe that had been left in a pile on the chair next to her desk. Holding her clothing under her left arm, she tied the band at her waist as she walked down the hall toward the bathroom. She could hear her mother preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Her father was there too, no doubt, sipping his coffee at the breakfast nook. Still, she kept her smile plastered to her face as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Half an hour later, Hillary was dressed, her hair was brushed and she was ready for breakfast. Her stomach rumbled as she walked down the stairs. She had grown used to eating sole
l
y for sustenance. She barely tasted the food as she shoveled it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed it. Today, she could almost taste the sausages just by inhaling the sweet aroma from
the
maple flavoring. It made her mouth water and her stomach growl even louder.

“
Wow, good morning, Hilly Bee,
”
her mother said happily,
“
I didn
’
t even have to wake you...and you
’
ve already showered...and...you
’
re smiling too? Is it Christmas already?
”

“
I
’
m starving,
”
Hillary replied matter-of-factly as she reached for a dish.

Her father craned his neck to
watch her as she piled sau
sage links onto her plate.

“
She must have had a good night,
”
he remarked snidely, with a big grin as he turned his attention back to the newspaper he was holding.

Just a matter of time,
the voice promised.

Hillary smiled as if she was guarding an important secret. She placed some fluffy scrambled egg on her dish beside the
sausages and carried her mouth
watering breakfast to the drawer under the microwave where the silverware was kept. She grabbed a fork and stabbed a sausage link. She watched as its juices escaped from the four punctures made by the tines on the fork.

Like it
’
s bleeding,
the voice said.

“
Mmmmm
,
”
Hillary moaned as she bit into the juicy sausage before reaching her seat at the breakfast nook.

Her father set his newspaper aside as Hillary sat across from him. He didn
’
t know what to make of this new transformation. He eyed her with suspicion, frowning. It made Hillary laugh aloud to see him so uncomfortable.

“
Are you on drugs or something?
”
he asked sternly.

“
Nonsense,
”
Kathy answered as she brought over a glass of orange juice for Hillary,
“
she
’
s just happy, and I for one hope to see more of that beautiful smile from now on.
”

“
Thanks Mom,
”
Hillary said, her voice muffled by the food in her mouth.

She took a sip of her orange juice. Her mother planted a kiss on the top of her head, reached for the empty plate in front of her father and strode off to place it in the sink.

“
Mama...
”
called a small babyish voice from the living room. It was Hillary
’
s brother Joshua. Her parents
often
allowed him to eat his meals in front of the television
on weekends
while they had insisted that she and Caleigh eat either at the breakfast nook or the dining table. Hillary always thought it was unfair, but even this didn
’
t cloud her cheery disposition.

Michael waited for Kathy to leave the kitchen before forcibly grabbing Hillary
’
s hand as she was about to shove a forkful of egg into her mouth.

“
What do you think you
’
re doing?
”
he asked angrily.

“
What do you mean?
”
she asked, still smiling.

“
Why are you in such a good mood?
”

“
I don
’
t know,
”
she shrugged,
“
I guess like you said, I must have had a good night.
”

Michael stared intently into her bright eyes for five full seconds, as if trying to probe her brain, before releasing her hand. He, too, began to smile.

“
So you
’
re finally coming a
r
ound?
”
he said with a wink.

Oh, you don
’
t know the half of it....

Hillary giggled softly then resumed eating her food. She devoured her eggs and every bit of sausage. It was as if her taste buds had been enhanced somehow and after clearing her plate, her hunger lingered on.

“
Are you making any more sausages?
”
she yelled to her mother, who entered the kitchen moments later.

Kathy was beside herself with joy to see Hillary with a smile on her face and a healthy appetite.

“
How
‘
bout I make some banana pancakes and bacon for you?
”
she said warmly.

Hillary nodded enthusiastically.
“
That sounds great,
”
she said.

Kathy gave Hillary a tight hug before walking to the other end of the kitchen to prepare her meal.

“
I like this,
”
Michael said, still smiling,
“
this is good.
”

It
’
s going to get even better....

Hillary giggled aloud as she stared at her father.

“
It
’
s going to get even better,
”
she said and laughed uncontrollably.

“
What
’
s so funny?
”
Caleigh asked as she entered the room.

Hillary didn
’t answer. S
he just sat there giggling quietly to herself.

“
I think Hillary
’
s gone crazy,
”
Caleigh announced as she walked over to the refrigerator to pour herself some juice.

“
She
’
s just in a good mood,
”
Kathy replied,
“
isn
’
t it great?
”

“
Great,
”
Caleigh repeated sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Caleigh was tired of all the attention Hillary got. Before her long bout of depression and anger issues, Hillary was adored by all and showered with her parents
’
love, affection and attention. Then Hillary had
“
troubles
”
and remained the focus of undeserved attention from her friends and parents. Now, Hillary had finally managed to crack a smile after all these months and her parents were acting as if she had cured cancer or located the fountain of youth. In Caleigh
’
s mind, perfect Hillary could do no wrong whether she acted like a saint or a bitch.

Caleigh recalled all the times she had tried to be just like Hillary. She used to dress like her, speak like her, copy her mannerisms, brush her hair the same way and follow her around like a pathetic little puppy. No matter how hard she had tried, she could never rise to Hillary
’
s standard. She never received compliments like Hillary received. Boys didn
’
t notice her the way they noticed Hillary. She was the invisible little sister living in her sister
’
s glorified shadow. And Caleigh resented her for it.

She was thrilled when Hillary had her
“
troubles
”
(as her mother would say) or
“
became a mental freak
”
(as she would say). It gave her an upper edge, despite her parents
’
continuing focus on Hillary. Her confidence soared and she joined several after-school clubs and even the soccer team. Her list of friends grew...multiplied, and she quickly became accepted amongst the popular crowd.

Caleigh took a seat next to Michael.

“
You look so pretty, Caleigh,
”
Hillary said with that seemingly perpetual smile.

“
Yeah, thanks,
”
Caleigh replied nonchalantly.

“
Isn
’
t that my dress?
”

“
Yeah...well, you don
’
t wear it anymore right?
”

She
’
s a bitch...she didn
’
t even ask you if she could wear it....

“
Nope, not at all,
”
Hillary replied, still smiling.

“
If it bothers you, I
’
ll take it off when we get back from church.
”

Church, huh!

“
I
’
m not going to church,
”
Hillary stated firmly, her smile thinning out a bit,
“
why don
’
t you keep it.
”

“
Yeah...okay.
”

“
What
’
s this about not going to church?
”
her father demanded.

“
I
’
m not going,
”
Hillary repeated without elaborating any further.

“
Like hell you
’
re not,
”
Michael insisted.

The smile finally faded from Hillary
’
s face. It relocate
d
to Caleigh
’
s face. She enjoyed witnessing Hillary in the hot seat.