High School Reunion - Part Four

High School Reunion 1

~2:27~2

Part Four3

Max slapped Louise's face hard. Backhanding her without an effort, watching her impatiently as she stirred in her sleep. Her eye brows thick, heavy, shades above her closed eyes.4

It was 2:25 or thereabouts and the morning was progressing fast; soon enough it would be sunrise and Max had a sneaking suspicion that sunrise would not bring him the closure he needed; especially after his alarm at his phone ringing. Not once, not Twice, not even three times, but Five times he had let it ring out; hoping to the devil that whoever it was would get the message and allow him to carry on with his business. 5

Raising his hand into the air again, Max felt the final twinge of annoyance, slapping Louise hard across her gentle face once again. This was the last time he was using the back of his hand: next time he would use his fist and if that failed he was bringing in a crow bar.6

To his delight Louise stirred, opening her eyes slowly. Her arms still pinned down. A body heavy pressed between her thighs. Was this a dream? Was she still dreaming?7

Though as she open her eyes fully, adjusting quickly to the light. She was terrified to see her father looking down at her. His pants straining against what looked to be a height of sexual tension.8

Sickened, her first reaction was to struggle free from his power, firm, grip. But as she felt him pressing his knee further against her apex, she realized that this was no game and this certainly was not a dream. He had her in a grip, she knew to well to try and fight against.9

Her father had a grudge. He had always threatened her against it, promising one day he would seek revenge for her mothers constant battering. Now the time had come, not only for her mother, but for her as well and no amount of struggling or pinching was ever going to wake her up from this dream.10

“Good morning sleeping beauty, my, my I must say you haven't changed a bit. You were out like a light. I don't know how many times I tried to wake you up, but I am so glad that you are finally awake. Now we can begin Playing my little games. Doesn't that sound like fun?”11

Louise groaned, her face inflamed, burning, aching with the pain that followed the bruising on her cheeks. The alcohol had worn of its affects and as she adjusted to the pain that surged through her face and wrists she suddenly wished that she had stayed inside the walls of the hall. Safe, sound, protected and surrounded. He regrets sank in fast, but there was no turning back now: not even if she tried.12

“Get of me,” she cried, reminiscing the circumstances in her dreams. Like dejavu she shuddered. The images of the mans blood-stained finger and the smell causing her stomach to knot, to churn, to lurch as the vile tingled towards her mouth: she was going to be sick.13

“Totally,” he boomed. “Like that is going to happen sweet pea, just lay back and relax. This will all be over sooner than you can imagine.”14

Louise could feel the vile choking her, strangling her breathing as she pushed herself forward. Tilting her head to the side: throwing up on the concrete floor besides the mattress.15

Her stomach groaned, heaved as she clutched her fathers fingers tightly. Her memories of the evening spewing out of her soul, frightening her to know that this is what her life had come to.16

“Let it all out,”He screamed, thrusting her hair backwards. His fingers tangled in her locks. He held her face towards his, making sure that she was finished: before slamming her against the mattress, wiping the vile from her lips off with the back of his gritty sleeve.17

Louise felt a sharp pain pulse through her body, her back slammed hard against the springy mattress. She could hear the echoing sound of the shed door grating against the dirt, the nights birds sounding their calling for morning to come and cars, there where cars driving into the driveway. The lights flashing Yellow and Red inside the shed. 18

Max hearing the noise and seeing the lights pushed himself forward, pinning his knees against Louise's palms. His own palm trapping the screaming that executed from Louise's sickened lips.19

“You make a word, I will not let you down easily. Keep your mouth shut and I will make this as pain free as I possibly can,” Max demanded, nervously stammering as his own fear ignited, setting his patience into overdrive. His body swelling with beads of sweat that dripping from his forehead, like droplets of rain onto Louise's cheek.20

Louise shook her head, attempting to scream against her father's palm. She had to think quick. There was not a lot of time and either way she knew he was going to kill her. She would rather die knowing she tried to save herself, than dying knowing she was just as weak as he made her out to be: no, she would scream, scream for her life.21

~2:50~22

Max knew the car from anywhere. It's loud engine, the sound it made when it pulled up in his driveway.23

It reminding him of his own childhood, waiting out on the steps in anticipation for his father arrival home from his long business trips away. He could hear the engine late at nights, in the back of his mind as he drifted of into a slumber. Always the memory of his fathers arms wide open there as a reminder upon awakening of the love he had for his parents. A love that could never be matched.24

He had wished for many years of a marriage just like his parents. One where home was more than a place to escape. More than a marriage where bickering was the only means of communication and where his one and only child was not forever hiding away in her room to scared to come out in case the shit hit that fan, seeing her mother in pieces on the floor from his many threats to one day kill them all.25

His parents. His parents? They were here all the way from the city. A Seven our trip, one that could very well have landed his father in a hospital bed for the remainder of his living days. His father? What was he doing out of bed? 26

Max peeled his eyes way from Louise, steering his eyes away from the fear that penetrated through him like a dagger to his care, vulnerable flesh.27

His father, near to his death bed was making his way across the gravel footpath towards the front of the house. His walking stick scraping across the rocks. 28

Max heard him speak, his voice rough, hoarse, struggling to string a sentence together, although Max could hear the determination to succeed with every step that he took. 29

I brought a tear to his eye, his heart crashed wildly, thumping, crashing, bashing, against his ribcage. His chest aching with the dreaded sensation and realization that his father was here for his promised last visit. His father was soon to die, more sooner than expected and he had driven all this way to see him with Max's mother to see Elsie and even more so to see Louise. Oh Louise, sweet Louise.30

~2:55~31

Louise started at her father, watching his eyes intently. Was he crying? Was her father crying? He never cried. He couldn't be, it was sweat, it had to be. He must have been panicking and he was not the only one.32

Her Grandparents. Out of all the people she had ever met; the names, the face and the voices she knew there was none that sparked her the way her Grandparents did. They were one of a kind. Two people that could never be matched in any way, shape or form. Every time they spoke it was like a sweet symphony, melody, that caused her heart to flutter and a smile to sweep across her face. Making her forget about any unhappiness that might have been occurring in her mind and life.33

Now that she could hear the symphony filling the morning air with their worried questions, the sound of their feet scraping across the gravel, towards the steps of her fathers front door, a new feeling hit her like a speeding bullet. 34

Her Grandfather, he had promised them all the next visit would be his last, right before the Doctor gave him the sickening news. She had dreaded this day for the past Seven months. Her Grandfathers calls killing her a little more every time it was time to hang up the phone. It was time. He was here for his last visit, he was on his death bed and she was in the shed, her father's body pressed violently,hard against hers. Struggling for her every breath, awaiting the torment to be over.35

Louise looked across her fathers shoulders. The shed door was open, she could scream if she tried. She had no choice or did she? Did she need to? She was unsure about her fathers reaction. His father, her grandfather, she knew that there was only one person in the world that could get though to her father and he was outside awaiting their smiling faces.36

Louise felt her fathers eyes on her once more. His expression sullen and full of gloom, of regret, a sadness she knew was eating him inside as the tears fell from his eyes, a storm brewing across his face. So it was not sweat, it was tears, real tears: he was crying.37

She looked at him unsure, no longer flailing and fighting his grip. She stared into his tear-strained eyes searching for a truth, an answer, the questions filling her mind with to many emotions that she could not sort out, pick out or separate as hard as she tried. She could feel him loosening his palms, tearing them away from her mouth as realization and determination hit. Was her father coming around?38

Louise's body tensed tightly, anticipation causing her ears to ring, eyes to watering, her mouth becoming dry with panic. She could not breathe, her heavy, breathing dragging her into a sense of nausea. Watching, waiting, breathing while her eyes stayed fixated on her fathers flickering eyelashes, his shoulders slumping, his body moving away from hers. He was giving in. Her father was setting her free.39

Her body relaxed, feeling his palm leaving her mouth. His hands raised in the air, gripping together like a prayer: before he brought them to his face, his lip trembling as the tears ran down his cheeks like a rocky, river.40

Louise took a deep breath, inhaling the stale air of the shed, the vile smell of her sickness wafting around the tight, constrained, space making her stomach lurch with the need to be sick once again. Her hair sticky, sweaty and dripping with vomit.41

She was safe. For now she was safe. There was no way he could do anything to her while her grandparents where visiting. Her father knew that the highlight of her Grandfathers visits where always wrapping his arms around her, around the three of them. Embracing them with small kisses of love. There was no way her father would deny him of that, especially on his death bed, or so to speak.42

She watched her father, feeling him drag his body away from hers as he rose to his feet, looking down at her as if he was ready to receive his punishment. His hand extended, reaching out for her with desperation and dread.43

Louise lay still, her body aching, grieving the events that unfolded right before her eyes. She was physically unharmed. He had not gone as far as she knew he had hoped to, meant to: the only pain being that of her stomach and back. Her wrist still stinging as she raised her hand towards his.44

Could she trust him? Her father has tried to rape her, abuse her, hurt her? He had meant to harm her and even as chilling as it sounded inside her mind; he had meant to murder her before dawn. Why should she trust him, especially when her mother was no where to be around. Her mother? Where the hell was her mother?45

Fear bit her flesh like a gnarling, wolf, desperate for a feast. Her mother? He had killed her. There was no way that her mother would have not heard her Grandparents car. It would have taken her Five minutes to throw some clothes on and she would have been out on the front porch, ready to greet them.46

Then there was something her father had once said. It was about her mother, about her bickering, her demands, his hate towards her and a threat he had made. “Soon,” he had said “Soon you will both be where you belong. Somewhere you can both rot in hell together.”47

The memory hit, the flash back of her fathers drunk, disorientated face snarling at the two of them. His baseball bat in his hand. He had meant to kill them both, together, to dispose of them together so that her mother could rot in hell beside her. 48

This man, the man that was standing before her was not her father. He was the child his father once was. Living the life of regret and grievance to quickly to disregard that fact that he had murdered his wife and had attempted only minutes before to abuse and murder his only child.49

Frightened, in agony Louise pushed her fathers hand aside. Pushing her body into an upright position, her back arched in anguish. Her feet finding the stone, cold, concrete of the shed. Louise's eyes darted between her fathers outreached hand and his bewildered expression. The shed door swinging back and forth as the wind picked up, stronger than ever: blowing dirt and leaves into the shed.50

She would have to play this right. It was her only chance at survival and if she screwed it up she could count her haunting, stars that it would be the last time she saw the outside world.51

Gathering all the strength she could. She stood her ground, looking towards the shed door.52

“ We better go, Grandma and Grandpa are waiting for us and I would hate to keep them waiting. Wouldn't you?”53

~3:05~54

Max stood still, his head tilting, nodding as Louise escaped his grip.55

What had happened to him? His body and mind? All his intentions being pushed aside, washed away with his fathers voice drifting through the air. His childhood coming to light and what about Elsie? How the hell was he going to explain her absence.56

He had needed this clarity. His clarity in the form of revenge. He needed the Two of them dead, burnt, buried. Six feet under, rotting together. Never a word being uttered in his presence. A life of pleasant solitude: a life alone.57

Now as Louise was near to the shed door, her voice so strong. Her appearance less than desirable, panic began to sink into his once clouded mind. What was he doing? What was he going to do? Surely Louise would not let his actions go unmentioned. He had tried to hurt her for God sakes, murder her and she knew it. There was no way she was going to let it slide. He had to finish her, finish the job and sooner rather than later.58

How? How could he possibly murder his daughter in front of his parents. Not now, now when his father was so close to dying, not now when Louise was out of his grasp. He would have to hope, wish and pray that Louise would be smart enough to keep her mouth shut. For both their sakes and the for the sake of his father: his loving father.59

Was this Karma? Was this Gods way of telling him that he should let it slide? Let her go, give her a second chance at life. If anything, seeing his father would tell him, he was sure, that life was precious, that children were precious and should not be punished for their parents anguish.60

What had he done? The words of murder replayed in his mind like a C-D on the brink. Skipping, pausing, replaying again over and over, deepening him into an anguished state of paranoia. He was utterly bewildered by his emotions. 61

He could not sort them out if he tried. Each one triggering another thought, another hope, another plan of action, all of them leading him around a ring -a-rosy. If he could just stop time, just for a few seconds, a few moments he was sure he could pin-point a plan of action and compose his thinking enough to make a final decision, but so far the likelihood of it happening was slim.62

The tears were still budding in his eyes, dripping like droplets of ice in a glacial: cold and moving. Taking him wholly, as his eyes blurred once again making it hard for him to see.63

He turned around, facing Louise. Her hand gripping the shed door as she spoke to him. A warning, ushering him to come forward. Her eyes darting between him and the outside word, as she dragged herself away from the shed and onto the gravel path.64

“LOUISE,” Max screamed, grabbing the nearest tool he could find. He had no choice, he had to finish the job; parents or not.