The naked wife
One of my random pieces, written originally as part of my novel, but I’ve decided to take my book in a different direction. I will say though, I am obsessed with writing about sisters and other family relationships. Hmm. 🙂
Panting heavily, mud, leaves and twigs plastered to my body like indecent, filthy, macramé art – I run through the forest, heart pounding, chest heaving, thighs slippery with my own juices, no longer contained by my underwear, my panty liner.
I pause and incline my ear to the sound of my own fear, my rapidly beating heart. Afraid to breathe, my body twisted at an insane angle, like some lithe, feral animal. Prey. I am being hunted – survival instinct in full gear, dignity a thing of the past, I clamber up a tree as quietly as I can, in the pitch black night- the bark, the ants, make short work of my delicate nether regions.
I do not budge for hours, having schooled myself to breathe in an irregular pattern, as if my pursuers are armed with breath-tracking devices. But it is the only thing I have control over, and it calms me in some strange, almost yogic way. Deep breaths, through my nostrils, small, silent releases through my mouth, two short puffs in quick succession. Over and over again, until I am lulled to sleep by my own breathy lullaby.
Crackle.I am awakened by a noise. An animal? A footstep, maybe?
I freeze- ready to kill or be killed.
“Sister.” It is a whisper, that of one who wishes to be heard by only the person she wishes to be heard by. Me. I wait, to make sure that she has not been followed by them. After a beat or two, I allow the relief to flood my body and my breathing to return to normal.
“Sister,” I respond, my voice is husky with emotion, lack of use, with thirst. Instantly, a light is shone on me. “She’s here,” sister says, her voice emotionless and flat, “I found her, she’s here.” Our eyes meet, identical almost, except one holds fear, the other extreme loathing. All at once, I am falling and falling and falling, a silent scream in my head, eyes shut. How could I have climbed that high? I do not remember. Ah, forgive me, sister…
I wake up in a cold sweat. Another night, another dream.