Page 9 of As the Rain Falls
“We need to…” I was panicking. “We need to tell her!”
Mom would fix this.
She knew how to fixeverything.
“No, we don’t,” he scolded, sounding harsher than before. “Just be good and clean yourself up, please. It’ll be okay, alright?”
I mentally counted his footsteps as he left me alone in the dark.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
My fingers played with the blanket, rolling the edges back-and-forth. The light fabric was sticking to my skin, but I didn’t like the feel of it so I threw it to the floor. Next, I kneeled closer to the edge of the bed, trying my best to find a way to stand on my own. I stepped with my two feet against the carpeted floor and leaned over the bedside table to push myself into an upright position.
My naked legs brushed against each other as I stumbled towards the bathroom, and the friction made me wince until I finally closed the door behind me. Forcing myself to reach the shower box, I peeled the t-shirt off me, not caring to stretch out the short sleeves in my desperation, fighting off the sobs.
I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t clean myself up.
Maybe I could keep quiet, but I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t clean this mess up.
I needed help.
Real help.
I put the clothes back on.
First, I found my panties, then I found my shorts and t-shirt. Finally, I opened the door and walked through thehallways, following the sounds of the conversation coming from the kitchen.Our house was large but also modest, and I could hear the wooden structure creak under my weight as I stepped forward.
“It hurts.” I leaned against the walls, Nathaniel’s chuckling making my stomach churn. “Mommy, it hurts.”
Three figures were standing together around the counter, our kitchen smelling like Chinese food and Coca-Cola. Their voices sounded so natural, casual. My parents had brought in take-out even though they knew I’d probably already eaten something earlier. Mom knew pork was my favorite. The thought of eating now made me want to vomit.
It took them a second to notice I was there, but I saw the moment when my father got quiet.
“Cassandra?”
I lowered my eyes towards my body. My pajamas, the blood, him still on me, because I couldn’t get him off.
“Sweetheart, what happened to you?” Dad approached me, stopping midway and spinning around like he already knew the answer. “One night, Nathaniel. You really couldn’t control yourself for one night?”
I blinked so hard that my head started to spin. My tears were spilling down my face and hitting the floor.
“You knew this would happen…” Nathaniel tried to say something else, but my dad didn’t let him finish his sentence.
“Again?”
I felt hands around me.
My mother’s.
