Promises Broken

Her house was tall. In Nalaise, wealth was portrayed by how many floors your house was. Hers was the tallest house, aside from The General’s.

She wasn’t coming out.

I was waiting for nothing.

She told me to wait, and she would come live with me after she told her parents, but seeing where she lived now, and picturing the hole I was living in until I could afford to by my own… tent… she would never want to live with me after this. Candles glowed from every window, and through the windows I saw the walls were lined in gold. The window frames were inlaid with FireStones. FireStones. The most expensive stone known in all the regions, and they were using it on their window-sills, exposed to rain, and weather, and the average passerby. I wanted to pull out my pocket knife and pry some of the stones out of their window-sill to teach them a lesson.

Valuable things get stolen.

You can’t keep them.

“Okay, Micheal, let’s go.”

She slammed the door, and shivered in the cold. She had no bags with her. She wore no cloak. She wasn’t planning on staying. Her eyes were filled with tears when she finally looked up at me. Anger flooded my blood.

Who would make her cry?

Who hurt her?

I would hunt them down. They would pay for hurting such a delicate thing.

“What happened?”

I caught her tears with the back of my hand, and pulled her into my arms. The curtains twitched in the nearest window. Her family was watching me.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

Growing up with seven sisters told me it was not fine.

“Come on baby, you can tell me.”

Her hair smelled so good as she nuzzled her head right below my chin.

“Oh, they said I was already promised to someone, and if I chose to walk out on that promise, I couldn’t come back.”

I knew it. She wasn’t coming. They would have promised her to someone of equal, or greater standing. She wouldn’t want to come with me. I should have taken that job offer from that guy earlier. He would have paid well, and I could have been good enough for her.

“Oh.”

Was all I could muster. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Nothing seemed to fit.

“Yeah,” she sniffed, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “So, where’s your place?”

“What?”

“Where do you live? Where do we live?”

We.

“Alice, you can’t walk out on a promise.”

It was too good to be true.

“It wasn’t their promise to make, and I have no need to uphold it. I don’t want an easy life with someone I don’t love.”

“Life with me won’t be easy, dear.”

“But life with you will be worth it.”

I didn’t fight her anymore. I just wanted to get her home. I held her as close as I could as we wound down the streets. Her confidence started to wane as the buildings got shorter, and she started to shiver as the buildings turned to shacks, and then tents, and then poorly dug holes.

“You’ve never been down to the Tunnel Dwellers have you?”

She shook her head.

“I’ve never been down past the Five-Floors.” She took my hand and tried to smile. “Worth it.” She whispered, and kissed my neck. She was short, and had to stand on tip-toe to reach my neck. I could bend, and kiss her back, but it was so dang cute watching her try to reach.

“You know I’m not planning on staying in Nalaise, right? I’m planning on going to Snartec. They are always pleading for choppers, so it’s an almost guaranteed job. But it won’t pay well. Only two or three Regions actually need wood.”

I was rambling. I was giving her an out. But she reached up and pressed her fingers to my lips.

“Worth it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I shuffled my feet, and looked at the ladder leading into the ground next to us.

“Well then, welcome home.”

“Oh.”

She stared at the ladder in confusion.

“You go down. Home is underground.”

“I knew that.”

Her blush said she didn’t know that.

“Do you want me to go first and show you how it’s done?”

She nodded. I looked up as she started to descend into my cave, and my mouth dropped open. I could see right up her dress. I tried to look away, but I didn’t want to.

“Well, it is cozy isn’t it.”

The room wasn’t made for two people. The table was pushed against one wall, and a mattress was sandwiched between it, and the opposite wall. That’s all there was. I had a small suitcase with all my clothes in it, but I didn’t own anything else.

“We’ll have a magnificent place in Snartec, I promise.”

“Okay.” She knelt on the mattress, and started straightening the sheets. She frowned at the stains. I forgot to get new sheets before I brought her here. “This will be tight sleeping won’t it?”

I swallowed.

“We’ll be sleeping together? On the same bed?”

I didn’t want her to have to sleep on my dirty sheets.

“Well, it’s the only bed here, so I guess that would be our only option.”

I hadn’t even kissed her yet. Not properly. Now I was supposed to sleep next to her? I would mess it up. She wouldn’t like my morning breath. I probably didn’t smell as good as she did. I hadn’t thought this through.

“Come on Micheal, it’s late.”

She patted the bed, and flicked the jar of Lacelights. I blew out the candles, and only the Lacelights lit up the room. As I laid down, she stood and undid the sash on her dress. She whisked her dress off, and stood, completely naked, in front of me. My heart sped up.

“Um, what are you doing?”

Are you hinting?

Are you ready now?

How was my breath?

“It’s a nice dress. I don’t want it to wrinkle. Tomorrow I’ll wear some of your clothes and I’ll sell the dress. Then we’ll have some money to get down to Snartec.”

I tried to fight disappointment.

“Oh. That’s smart.”

She nodded and laid down next to me. She snuggled up against my side, and eased one leg across mine.

What was she doing to me?

Was this another hint?

She was so naive. She probably didn’t mean anything by it. I started to count the roots coming through the ceiling. It was going to be a long night with her beside me. So available, but maybe not ready yet.

Twenty-seven roots.

Forty-three Lacelights.

Six weird knots in the wood on the side of the table.

Eleven freckles across her pale back.

“Micheal?”

She whispered as the Lacelights began to fade.

“Yes?”

Two rocks that looked like they might fall out of the wall soon.

Fifteen rungs on the ladder.

“Were you ever going to kiss me?”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I pushed her onto her back, and finally tasted her lips. They were better than I imagined they would be. I’d been with a few women before, but they were hired. I paid them to be good. I paid them to let me do what I wanted.

Alice was different.

Alice was pure.

I worried I would mess up. I worried she wouldn’t enjoy it. She didn’t know what to do. She was waiting for my direction. I kissed her again, and her fingers danced across my back. Nervously, she eased my shirt off, and I hastily pulled my legs free of my pants. Ugh. I was covered in grime. I should have showered before picking her up.

“What do you want, love?”

I gently bit her ear, and she gasped. She pressed her hands against my face, and held me away from her. My heart stopped when I saw fear in her eyes.

“Alice? What’s wrong?”

“I think,” she paused, and slowly met my eyes. “I think I want it to hurt.”

“What?”

“I know my first time might hurt, and I’d rather it be on purpose.” She smiled at me, and trailed her fingers down my chest. “We’ll be joining our souls. I think that sounds like it might be a beautiful pain.”

“Alice, we’re not ‘joining our souls”, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

I bent down and kissed her neck, and trailed my lips down to the edge of her breast, but she put a hand up and stopped me.

“You promised me you’d keep me safe. This is how I swear myself to you. I need to relinquish that control to you.”

“You’re sheltered, Alice. I don’t think you understand what you’re asking.”

“I don’t mean every time. I just mean this time. Symbolically. I need to feel pain right now. I need a pain I can enjoy.”

Her voice was muffled behind my mouth, and I grabbed her hands and held her arms above her head. I worked my way down, and gently bit her breast. She squirmed beneath me.

“Please, Micheal?”

“Alright. I’m game if you are.”

I positioned myself, and slowly pushed in. Her expression changed as I had my way, and her smile vanished. She squeezed her eyes shut, and one tear slipped past her lid.

“Oh, baby, see I told you you didn’t really want it that way.”

I smoothed her hair, and apologized, but she sniffed and shook her head.

“It’s not that. You were fine.” Her legs wrapped around me, and she buried her head in my shoulder. “I’m an orphan now, Micheal. I can’t go home.”

“Do you want to go home?”

This was not the conversation I wanted to have right now.

“No, I don’t. It’s just hitting me what I gave up.”

“Hitting you now, while I’m…”

Great.

Her eyes widened.

“No! No. I’m sorry I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. I want to focus on you.” She pushed herself against me.

“Please. Make me forget.”

Soon her tears turned to screams, and I knew my neighbors would be jealous of me. As the Lacelights drifted off to sleep, and she fell asleep in my arms, exhausted, I was so grateful she came with me.

Only good things could come from this promise she broke.

Budget Cuts

His boss laid him off.

“Budget cuts”

He nodded, but he didn’t really hear those well rehearsed words. What would they do now? His wife couldn’t work. Not after what that man put her through. She barely went outside anymore. He wasn’t trained in anything. This job was a God-send when he got it, but now what would he do?

He couldn’t tell her. She’d lose it. Again. She smiled at him this morning before he left for work. She hadn’t smiled in years.

His boss was asking him questions, but he wasn’t listening. Numbly, he packed his desk, and went out into the streets. That’s where they would be living all too soon. They were already drowning in debt. He dumped the office things in the nearest dumpster, but he kept the picture of his wife. It was taken before her kidnapping. Taken before fear took up permanent residence behind her eyes. He traced her smile through the glass, and tears dripped from his eyes. What would she do now? He couldn’t take care of her anymore.

He had time before he “got off work” and could go home, so he went to the post office. He’d promised her he would check the mail. Her mother sent her a letter every three days. She was afraid to use the phone, so snail-mail would have to do. The man had stalked her for several weeks on her phone. She wouldn’t touch one now. He was behind bars for a long time, but she still didn’t feel safe. There wasn’t much in the mail. A letter from her mother, and seventeen over-due bills. He stopped by her mother’s house on the way home. A sprawling mansion that once crawled with gardeners, and butlers, and maids. She’d cut down on staff to pay for the lawyers. The house was paid off, and the remaining staff had trusts that paid their salary, but the mistress of the manor was struggling now.

He hated the questions he’d have to ask her. He was such a proud man. But she agreed without question, and they made their plans, before he wandered back home to his wife. He smiled when he opened the door. Fresh baked cookies made the house smell sweet. She hadn’t baked since before…

She greeted him with a plate fresh from the oven. Her smile made the lump in his throat grow, but he didn’t have to chance to tell her what happened. She pushed him into the living room, and worked the buckle on his belt. Her hands shook so hard, and tears danced in her eyes as her fear consumed her. He stopped her shaking hands, and wrapped her in his arms.

“Don’t push yourself, dear.”

He whispered through her hair.

“I want to, but I can’t. I can’t get him out of my head.” Tears clogged her words as she clung to him. “I thought I could. I thought I was ready now.”

He put a finger to her lips, and her rambling ceased. She’d been trying for months to be alright. He no longer got his hopes up. But he didn’t need to. He loved her too much to be disappointed. She returned to the kitchen, and scooped more cookies onto the plate.

“Your mother wants us to come to dinner tonight.”

He had to broach the subject carefully. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. Panic crossed her face, and she shook her head.

“I can’t leave the house.”

“She misses you. Just one dinner can’t hurt, right?”

“I was meeting you for dinner that night. My car broke down. He pulled over.”

Her eyes glazed over. The psychologists said that she would remember every detail of that day, and repeating any of those things could trigger her. They said to make sure to always point out differences to show her it’s not that night.

“You were alone then. You’d be with me now. I know how to repair a car, so we wouldn’t have a problem.”

Her hands still shook, but she smiled again.

“It would be different. Can we walk?”

“Forty-three miles?”

She wanted to walk everywhere, but some things weren’t possible. Dishes clattered in the sink, and she nodded absently.

“We can’t walk, baby. We’ll go to dinner. Make it quick. Don’t worry.”

He chose to ignore the tears on her cheeks. She needed this, and so did her mother. It would be a nice break. He kept a box of photos of happier times in the back of his closet. She didn’t like looking at them. Not yet. But one day he hoped she’d want to see them again. He took the box out to his car, and also took half of her clothing out to the car as well. He laid out an outfit for her on the bed, and placed a new necklace on top.

He couldn’t afford the necklace, but she deserved nice things. He unbuckled his pants, stared at the photograph, and lost himself in better times. Times when she didn’t cringe at his touch. Times when her eyes glowed with love, and hope. She walked in on him, and gasped, hands flying to her mouth. He lept from the bed, but she’d already fled the room. A few minutes later he found her, huddled in the corner, sobbing.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” His hands hovered over her back, but he hesitated to touch her. She couldn’t handle touch if she didn’t initiate. “I’m sorry you walked into that. I should have locked the door.”

She shook her head, and wiped her face.

“I just feel bad.”

“It’s okay. You’re doing just fine.”

It was almost time to leave, and he didn’t want to leave it on this note, but he didn’t know how to fix it. His hand lowered onto her hair, and she twisted around and wrapped her arms around him.

“What did he do to you?”

He promised himself he would never ask her that, but the question slipped out before he could stop it. She stopped crying, and her arms loosened just a little.

“I had a child. While he held me there I gave birth.”
His blood ran cold at her words. She’d been missing for two years. Plenty of time for a child. But there was no child there when they found her.

“She was born in the morning. She was beautiful. She was yours.”

Tears ran from his eyes.

“I was going to tell you that night. I had it all planned out what I would say, but my car broke down.”

His arms tightened. A child. He had a child. A daughter.

“He didn’t like her. She cried a lot, and it gave him a headache. He killed her. Pinned her to the table and bashed her head in with a frying pan. He wouldn’t let me take care of her body until the smell was overwhelming. I had to stare at her body everyday. And I still hear her cries when I close my eyes. But more than that, I hear the silence after that blow. Every quiet moment takes me back to that moment. He raped her too. Before he killed her. Just so he could watch me cry. But then he got rid of the body and I can’t prove there was a child. So he’s only in prison for kidnapping. It should be murder, but he’s not in for murder.”

He should be dead. Not in prison.

Anger pulsed through his veins, along with a grief for the daughter he’d never meet. He held her until her shaking ceased, and didn’t offer any comfort. He didn’t know what he should say. Nothing would help.

Her tears dried when they drove into her mother’s parking lot. The servants were excited to see her return to the manor. She hadn’t been back since the kidnapping. She and the senator, her father, were held for ransom. Separate rooms. Different bounties. They attempted to pay for the senators release first. He was returned to his family. Piece by bloody piece. That’s why they didn’t pay for her. They wanted to find her alive. They never told her her father was also kidnapped. They told her he had a heart attack while she was imprisoned.

Her mother ran down the steps, and wrapped her daughter in her arms. They hadn’t seen each-other since the hospital. Both had happy tears in their eyes as they retreated into the mansion. He tipped the valet, and whispered directions to him, before he followed his wife into the house. She was happier here. There wasn’t as much fear in her eyes, and her smile was easy. Laughter bounced off the walls, and he realized how much he had missed it. Hours ticked by, and he knew his time was running out. The bills were stacking up. He lost his job. He couldn’t give her the care she needed.

He stood from the table, and kissed his wife, before excusing himself to the restroom. She barely glanced away from her mother as he left the room. He slipped out to his car, and made sure all of her things had been unloaded. He glanced back through the window, and saw her laughing. Happy.

Tears drenched his face as he drove into the night, and left her behind with someone who could care for her better than he ever could.

Texts

“Dinner looks lovely.”

He sniffed the air as he entered the kitchen. She merely blushed, and continued reading the recipe in front of her. Flour streaked her apron, and her hair refused to stay out of her eyes as she tried to make him a dinner he would like.

He crossed to his wife, and wrapped her in his arms.

“I’m not hungry for food tonight.”

She brushed away his hands, and dug a measuring cup into some sugar.

“I have to finish this pie, or dinner will be ruined.”

He reached out and shut the cookbook in front of her.

“I don’t even like pie.”

His hands wandered down her legs, and he squatted in front of her. His fingers wrapped around her white thong, and pulled it down. His tongue darted out of his mouth, and she forgot her dinner plans. He drank her in, right on the kitchen floor, and she squealed as he worked his hands. Clothing tossed aside. Dinner forgotten. She pushed up onto her knees, and took him into her mouth.

She’d practiced all night to be able to accommodate him. She felt rather foolish jamming the cucumber she’d planned on using for dinner down her throat. She wasn’t even sure if that’s how she should practice, but she wanted to get it just right.

Her hands worked his base, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She took her cue, and brought the knife down, severing his cock with a yelp of surprise. She made sure she severed the arterial vein on his leg as well. Witnesses wouldn’t do.

And as he gasped and bled on her kitchen floor, she leaned over him and whispered,

“I saw the texts.”

Memories

“Hi, grandma, are you awake?”

“Oh, hello dear.”

Her hair cascaded down her back in wild curls, and she turned tired eyes up to look at me.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Sarah, grandma.”

“Oh. I have a granddaughter named Sarah.”

I know.

I tossed my keys onto the table, and kissed the top of her head. The stove top was on, but there wasn’t anything on the hot burner. I thought we had that disabled. She wasn’t supposed to be able to turn it on.

“How are you doing today?”

Her eyes wandered over her knitting needles, which clacked together without any yarn.

“Paul is coming in for breakfast. I should get started.”

She limped over to the stove, and flipped it on, again. She set her shawl onto the stove, and wandered into the living room. I turned off the stove and followed her. All of her plants had been replaced with plastic years ago, but she still watered them several times a day.

Four hours later, she was still waiting for Paul to come in for breakfast.

“I need his box, Sarah. I need his box.”

She mumbled over and over.

“What box?”

Her gaze shifted away from the window.

“His memories. He’ll want his memories when he comes home.”

I sighed and went to the bathroom. She always asked for his memories, but I wasn’t sure what she meant. I fixed my make-up, and curled my hair while I was in there. David and I had another date tonight. I wished I could tell grandma about it, but she wouldn’t remember tomorrow so there really was no point. By the time I made it back out to the kitchen, she’d scrambled some eggs, and set the table.

“Paul will be here soon. Has he called?”

I hated this part. It came every day. It was inevitable.

“Grandma… Paul’s dead. He died fifteen years ago.”

Her shoulders slumped, and slowly nodded her head.

“How?”

Her voice cracked. It always cracked.

“Farming accident. His tractor rolled over.”

She was the one that found him. I wasn’t home that day, so I couldn’t spare her.

“And I already knew that. Why was I making him breakfast?”

Just like every other day, she pushed back from the table, and retreated to her room. I didn’t normally follow her, but today I did. I wanted to know what she did in there every day. She hadn’t shut the door all the way, so I could peek in easily. Old papers were strew across her bed, and she picked up each one and read them. Tears ran down her face as she noticed me in her doorway.

“What are those papers?”

“Hospital records.”

She handed some to me. I didn’t understand what I was reading.

“Those are my hospital records from before Paul died. I went in several times a month back then. I haven’t been to the hospital since he died.”

“Why did you visit so much? Were you sick?”

I was young then. I didn’t remember her being sick, but I could have forgotten.

“He loved me. Really he did. But the farm was struggling, and the pressure got to him. He needed to let off steam.”

“Grandma, did he hurt you?”

Her lips pressed together, and turned white.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just guessing. I hoped the tractor would blow up, and kill him painlessly, but I guess it got the job done anyway.”