Page 25 of The Sun and Her Star

My tears subside. But not because I feel better, but because I know that the longer I cry, the longer we’ll be sitting here, and I have things to do.

“Yes, Tante Isabel. I want to go home. As soon as we can, please,” I tell her honestly.

The letter from Graham’s mother sits against my chest—as hot as a baked potato and as heavy as a rock. I need to find a place to mail it, and I know I can’t do it here. I can’t believe I didn’t get to hug Graham goodbye.

I close my eyes and let out one last sob.

Then, I make Graham a silent promise. If he can find his way out of here, I’ll find him. And when I do, I’ll never let him out of my sight again.

Dreams

Graham

My eyes are closed, and I’m stroking myself. This is only the second time I’ve done it. The first time it was like I couldn’t help myself. My cock was throbbing, and I touched it, and it felt so good. It only took a few more swipes before I spilled my seed. I’d only ever rubbed against my mattress before, but I liked it a lot. So, I was doing it again.

It’s wrong, but I think about Apollo while I do it.

Her bright eyes, her smile, and the way her legs felt when she brushed them against me in the hammock.

Suddenly, the door flies open and slams against the wall so hard the plaster falls down. Everything is moving in slow motion suddenly, and I watch the shattered drywall float like snow onto the floor.

My eyes meet my stepfather’s and time stops. He looks madder than I’ve ever seen.

His eyes move to where my hand is still between my legs and they narrow, his lip curling in disgust.

I gasp and move my hand out of my shorts.

He kicks the door shut behind him and raises his hand. He’s holding my book.

I stare at it as he walks toward me. He’s walking slowly and with each step my heart threatens to combust.

Fear paralyzes me, and I don’t move when he sits at the edge of my bed and glowers down at me.

“You are a filthy sinner.” He spits in my face and slaps me with his open palm.

I slide up to the top of my bed and press myself into the wall. I am big for my age, but he’s still much bigger than me.

“You need to be punished and cleansed. When I think you are truly repentant, you need to take a wife and become a man. I’ve let your mother spoil you.”

And then he slaps me again. This time, with my book.

The blow feels like an explosion on the side of my face. I stare at my treasured possession formed into a weapon and used to hurt me, and something inside of me breaks.

Without thinking or considering the consequences, I launch myself off the bed and tackle him. He absorbs my attack easily and throws me to the ground.

He kicks me repeatedly in the stomach as he screams down at me.

“You’re going to learn once and for all thatIam in charge. You willnotdefy me. You and that worthless mother of yours have had an easy life since I brought you here. That’s going to change.”

He stalks out of my room, the heel of his boot striking the wood floor with enough force to rattle the furniture.

When the front door slams, I hear the crash of glass and the telltale sound of wood splintering, and I knew that the picture of my grandfather that he keeps on the wall in our living room had fallen.

My heart sprints in my chest. I sit on my bed, quivering. I want to run then. But, I don’t know where I’d go besides the lake.

And I can’t let him discover it. I don’t know how he found the book. I can’t let him find out about the lake.

Or Apollo.

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