Sisters Ch. 02: Security

"Go ahead," I whispered.

A familiar sensation. The pushing, the pain. I squeezed my legs shut involuntarily. I wanted Andrew, but my body didn't know the difference between this act of love and the acts of violence it had always associated with those sensations.

He grunted from effort, his breath heavy as he tried to push past my entrance. He wasn't looking at my face and so he didn't see my tears. Finally, he was just inside a little bit. When we felt that first sudden bit of progress, we each let out a long breath. Andrew paused for a moment, kissing my cheek as I trembled.

"It's OK," I told myself.

I must have whispered it out loud, because Andrew replied, "Alright," and began pushing farther inside. I must have learned to keep quiet, to swallow the pain. My muted whimpers accompanied his grunts of exertion. Then he was in. I could hear the trembling in my breaths and I felt Andrew's weight, suspended by his elbows above me but still pressing down at the hips.

My mind began to wander, accustomed to seeking refuge when I was in such a position. I was remembering something else, something totally unrelated. It was a walk in the forest near my grandmother's farm. I was just a little girl and life was happy. I could almost smell the sassafras roots as we walked. Andrew's hand on the side of my breast slowly brought my attention back to him... to us... to what we were doing in that moment. This was no monster attacking me. My prince was speaking. "Penny," he said softly, "I asked if you're ready to keep going. Do you want to be on top or something?"

His eyes searched mine - not just looking for answers but for an explanation. Maybe he sensed that something wasn't right. I wouldn't meet his gaze, not wanting him to suspect anything. But I pushed up with my hips. My eyes closed and I fought the tears. They should have been tears of joy, but the monster had taken that away from me.

Every thrust into my being made me think of him, of all those moments I had been erasing as they happened. My heart swung like a pendulum from anger to despair, from rage to fear.

"...to stop?" his voice broke through my fog. What had he been saying? I was still moving my hips without meaning to, but Andrew had stopped.

"What?" I asked, blinking him into focus.

"You seem really upset. Does it hurt too much? Should we stop? I don't want to make you..."

"No," I interrupted. "Don't stop, please." I didn't want to fail him. I didn't want Andrew to have to pay the price of my own mess. I didn't want to ruin this for him. At least one of us should be allowed to have a perfect moment.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that, please," he said. "I need to know if you mean that." When I didn't respond at first, he pulled out of me, and I knew he was serious. I moved a hand and turned his face towards mine. Looking into his eyes for the first time since we had started, I realized why I wouldn't look at him. I was afraid it wasn't him. I was afraid I would look and see the monster with red face puffing and dark eyes closed while he smiled in cruel pleasure above me.

But when I looked up, there was Andrew. There was my prince, my long-suffering lover.

"Don't," was all I could whisper. I don't know what he saw in my eyes, but it was enough to convince him. Without ceasing to look at me, he slid back in. Slid might not be the right word - I was still mostly dry and clenched tight. But after pushing and working himself forward and reuniting us as one flesh, he began moving slowly in and out. His eyes were my lifeline. For years to come, I would need to see those eyes when we made love. Those eyes showed me all the strength and gentleness and compassion and tenderness that I needed from him.

The monster was always lurking every time we made love. A careless stray thought could bring him charging back to my mind, and Andrew would no doubt feel me seize up, frozen in terror. But his eyes would heal me, soothe me, console me, restore me.

For several long minutes, Andrew's body glided along on top of mine. That delicious friction of his manhood filling me over and over gave me my first hints that sex could be a beautiful, mutually pleasurable thing. It would be some time before I felt the same kind of pleasure as Andrew felt that day, but to simply feel protected and treasured rather than abused and cheapened was a very special pleasure in itself.

I could tell from his sharp gasps and whimpers that Andrew was getting close. But he seemed to be holding back for my sake. "Go ahead. It's OK," I said, running my hands up the smooth skin of his back. Tilting my hips a little, I closed my thighs against his sides. Andrew closed his eyes and pushed harder. That was what he had been avoiding. He didn't want to hurt me. With a few deep thrusts he gasped, then cried out gently. I felt his pulsing inside of me, for once welcoming that sensation not as the end of my ordeal but as a precious reward for my lover, a gift only I had ever given him.

As Andrew gasped, giddy in the afterglow of his first time, I arched my back and rubbed my hands along the couch, forever associating that texture with the purest love I had ever known. I would always prefer to make love on that couch in the light of day rather than in a bed at night. The monster had spoiled beds and darkness. But there on the couch, with the sun forcing past carelessly closed blinds, I knew I would remember that moment for the rest of my life. The first time my prince conquered the monster.

*******

"Penny? Penny... time to get up."

I moved my head slowly, unsure of where I was. Then I felt it under my cheek. The couch. Had Andrew and I just...?

No. It was no such perfect moment that I was waking from. I was in my robe and it was Brittany's voice coaxing me into a sitting position. She had my medicine.

"Andrew?" I asked, looking around.

"He'll be at work for a few more hours yet," she said, jotting down some notes as I swallowed the pills.

"I had the most wonderful dream, Brittany," I mumbled to her.

"Did you now?" she said, sounding genuinely interested. "That's not usually what happens when you sleep."

"It was more of a memory, really. Or a reminiscing that led me to a nice sleep."

"Well you could use some more reminiscing like that," she said, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

I sighed and put my hands to my face. Was that all I had left? Just memories? Was there a future for me anymore? And was Andrew stuck with me like this? Had I robbed him of any future as well? I had already hurt him so much...

My hands were shaking. No... No, I didn't want to think about it. I was standing, walking, where to? I must have made some noise or something. Brittany was soon at my side... No, she was over me. How did I get to the floor...?

*******

Days. Weeks. Blurs. I have good times, sometimes a small string of days where Andrew and I can even talk about things. Then I have big gaps, and I find out days have passed without me knowing. I'm so afraid. I want Andrew here with me all the time, but I know he can't be. I feel ashamed to tell him how scared I am without him.

Last night, I tried to give him what I know he has been missing. He didn't say anything about it, but I know it was almost our anniversary. I think he thought I couldn't understand such things yet, or that I couldn't handle thinking about them. I understand why he thinks that - what goes on in my head can't quite make it to words most of the time. I start to speak and more voices fill my head and I get confused. I can see people's faces, and I see that I'm not making sense.

But I know that Andrew and I are man and wife. I know what it means to be married. And I know my body can still function as his wife. And I know I want to feel him like that again. He came home late, and I could smell a faint whiff of alcohol, even after he showered. He thought I was asleep when he came to bed. I had waited for him.

When he was settled under the covers and I could hear his breathing start to slow, I moved closer and put my hand on his thigh. Sliding it under the waistband of his boxers, I took hold of his soft manhood. Andrew sighed and moved his hand to cover mine. "Mm, baby," he said softly. I pressed my breasts against his back and put my cheek on his shoulder.

"Happy Anniversary, Andrew," I said, using a voice I hadn't used in a long time.

A few seconds after those words left my mouth, Andrew froze up. Pulling my hand away from his stiffening member, he rolled out of the bed and stood up. There were no lights in the room, but the nearly full moon showed me the confused expression on his face.

"Penny?"

"It's OK, Andrew. I really want this. I want it for myself and... and I really want to do it for you. I know that..."

Andrew began pacing the length of the bed, one hand on his forehead. "No, Penny. You... you don't understand. You shouldn't be doing this. It wouldn't... It's not right."

"What's not right?" I pleaded. "We're still married, aren't we? I'm still a woman, even if I'm not... not completely OK. I can be a woman for you, at least, even if I can't be a good wife!"

He stopped and looked at me, struggling to find the right words. "Penny, I know you don't understand everything that's going on right now. But you're still not well at all. The doctors say maybe someday... but... there's still a long road ahead of you, ahead of us."

I was frustrated. He thought of me as a child, as an imbecile. "Don't underestimate me, Andrew. I know full well what's going on. I can't stop being crazy. I can't stop him from talking to me and doing what he does to me and you're supposed to stop him but now you aren't even here! And there's a chair in Noel's room and you don't even care and you resent me for ruining your life!" I was starting to yell. And all the thoughts and images and fears and voices were mixing together and Andrew was backing up and turning on the light. And I heard the laughter, the evil laugh. He was winning. The monster would win in the end.

*******

I don't remember much else from that night. I had horrible dreams. When I woke up, I found Andrew in Noel's room, asleep on the recliner. Brittany had moved out a month earlier and only came by for a few hours each day. The room seemed barren and so very empty. I wondered if we would ever turn it into a nursery again. The walls were still pink, but blue would be just as good.

Andrew wouldn't come to bed with me again after that. In the days that followed, he was distant, sad. More than once I found him looking at his phone, as if he was thinking about calling someone. Or hoping someone would call him. I suspected he was debating telling the doctors to come take me away again.

*******

I woke up, and it was dark. I thought I heard Noel crying. I ran to her room but everything was different. She was gone.

Oh, God, Noel was gone! And where was Andrew? Had they finally left me?

No, they hadn't left. I had lost Noel. And then I remembered it all again. It was this night, five years ago. The truck that swerved, the tumbling. Hanging upside-down, my leg trapped. My baby crying. She would have been six this year. And the one I had been carrying in my belly that day. We would have... but it was my fault they wouldn't.

I heard him laughing at me. Basket-case, he had said. Can't do anything right, he would complain. You'll see, he had told Andrew. You'll find out the hard way.

He had to stop. I had to stop it all. It was so much noise. The brakes squealing, the monster laughing, Noel crying, that inhuman grunting as he raped me... There were pills somewhere. Somewhere there were pills that would always make it stop. I had to make it stop.

I ran back to my bedroom, then opened the medicine cabinet. Which ones made it all stop? I tried some, they didn't work. Maybe those? No, they didn't work. Maybe the pink ones? Why wouldn't it stop?

My throat was so dry... a bottle on the nightstand... so bitter... never liked beer...

I sat down on the floor and cried. I started to feel calm again. I should get back to bed. But it's so far away. Just a short rest here on the floor, then I'll go to bed...

*******

Hannah flipped open her laptop. This sucked. Living with two other women wasn't working out. She needed a new place, and for once she didn't feel like fucking her way into a new living situation. Opening a few tabs of apartment searches, she scrolled through her new emails. Mostly junk. Except for that one.

It was from Donna, who had stopped writing a long time ago. Even Donna had given up writing after three years with no response. Hannah would have deleted it without looking, but the subject line caught her attention.

Penny's dead.

Hannah paused a moment, then clicked on the message. As it opened, Hannah's first thought was, Good for her.

Then, just as quickly, she muttered, God damn him to hell.

*******

Hannah wasn't much for irony, if that was even the word for it. She had watched Penny's wedding from across the street, and now she parked across the street to watch her funeral. It wasn't a big crowd, and she didn't recognize most of those in attendance. Once the cars had lined up to follow the hearse to the graveyard, Hannah pulled out and joined them at the back of the line.

She stood a good distance away, her brown coat wrapped tightly around her to keep out the mid-November chill. She missed Florida winters. She could make out Andrew among the mourners, but for some reason his fiancé/new wife wasn't present. Perhaps Isa had stayed home out of "good taste."

A few words from a somber minister and the crowd began to disperse. As a half-dozen or so stragglers milled about, Andrew looked Hannah's direction. He squinted and she looked away, as if she was merely wandering among the grave markers. She nervously looked back at him. He was talking to someone else.

"Hannah?"

She was startled by a voice behind her. Turning around, she took in the round, rosy-cheeked face of a short brunette girl. Her form was mostly hidden by the thick coat she wore, but Hannah could tell that she had a fuller figure than her own wiry frame.

"Hi, Donna," she said casually, with resignation.

"I'm glad you're here," Donna said cautiously.

"Are you?" Hannah challenged with a smile, then quickly resumed a more blank expression.

"Yes... really," Donna said with sincerity. Unlike her oldest sister, Donna had an air of naiveté.

After a moment of awkward silence, Hannah commented, "I didn't expect to see Andrew here."

"Why wouldn't he be?" asked Donna.

"Because I would think he would have moved on a long time ago. I would have."

"Hannah, he was her husband, all the way up until the end," Donna rebuked her, trying to steady her emotions. "He worked two jobs just to take care of her."

Hannah cocked her head and weighed those words. That account didn't mesh with what she had seen with her own eyes - the sassy, petite girl with the ring who had answered the door when Hannah had come to see Penny a few months earlier. Lost in thought, she didn't notice that Donna was carefully watching her, searching for the right words to say.

"Hannah," she ventured, "why did you leave?"

"Why did you stay?" Hannah tossed back.

Looking slightly angered, Donna insisted, "It was home."

"It was never home for me."

"But we are your family."

"No... No, Donna, that wasn't a family."

Frustrated, Donna pulled her coat tighter around and snapped, "How can you say that?"

As if the dam had finally burst, Hannah pointed back at Penny's' grave and growled, "He did this, Donna. He killed her."

"Who did?"

"Nicholas," Hannah hissed, so quietly that it seemed she was afraid the mere mention of the name would summon his malign presence.

With unfeigned innocence, Donna replied in disbelief, "Daddy?"

"Don't... call him that," Hannah warned sharply.

"What? Look, Hannah... I know he was... distant and wasn't very affectionate, but..."

Hannah couldn't stop the tears this time. And yet her voice remained steady and terse. "I wish he was distant and unfeeling. I wish to God he had been that way!"

"Hannah?"

"He's a total narcissist, Donna. He couldn't name us after himself, but he still put his initials right in the middle of our names. He wanted to mark us as his property. We only existed for his convenience, to meet his sick needs. That filthy, God-damned son of a bitch just... He just took whatever he wanted. And when I left, he took it from Penny, too."

Horrified, Donna twisted her face in shock. "No... No, Hannah, that's not true. You can't mean..."

"I was a child, Donna, and he... he..." Then as abruptly as it had started, Hannah's outburst ended. Her cool demeanor returned, and with an even voice, she continued. "Anyway, I came to Penny's wedding - I saw you there from across the street. I needed to know if Penny was really happy. He screwed me up, Donna, and I can't shake him. But if Penny could be happy, then I knew he hadn't won. I needed to see that it didn't have to... it didn't have to be this way," she said, sweeping a hand down to indicate herself. "But he wins, Donna. Penny's dead and I'm only a shell of a person." On the verge of tears again, Hannah looked disdainfully at her baby sister and added, "And I don't know what the hell kind of damage he did to you for you to defend him like that."

Stunned, and blinking away her own tears, Donna could only shake her head. Eventually she stammered, "He never... I wasn't... I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Hannah, I had no idea."

"Excuse me... Donna?" a soft male voice interrupted them. Hannah kept her back to the speaker and breathed deeply to calm herself. The speaker went on, "Thank you so much for coming all this way. You're welcome to stick around longer if you want - my house is always open to you."

"How's Isa doing?" Hannah asked, only half turning towards the speaker.

"Isa? Isa's... fine, I think. She got married this summer... but I haven't seen her since she stopped cleaning my place months ago... I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Hannah, grasping the extent of her misunderstanding, winced at the awkwardness, though she stopped short of regretting the names she had called Andrew after her aborted visit earlier that year.

As Hannah turned to face Andrew, Donna stepped forward and spoke. "Andrew, this is..."

"Hannah," Andrew stated, his eyes widening in wonder. "My God, in this light you could almost pass as her twin."

"Oh, but you wouldn't find me nearly as agreeable," Hannah said flatly. She briefly considered hatching a plan to seduce her newly available brother-in-law, just to bring him down a few pegs, but a stubborn loyalty to Penny convinced her it wouldn't be right.

"Well, I'm glad to finally meet you, though I wish it was under different circumstances," Andrew said calmly. His voice was soft and genuine, reminding her of Wes. A pang of something like guilt struck her briefly. "I actually have something for you," he continued. "I was going to pass it off to Donna to eventually get to you, but... here it is."

Reaching into a pocket on the inside of his winter coat, Andrew pulled out a small envelope. It had Hannah's name scrawled on the front and was sealed shut. Hannah took it with a look of restrained curiosity.

"I don't know," he said in answer to her unvoiced question. "Penny wrote it a month or so ago. She said it was a birthday card for you, but she didn't have an address to put on it. I forgot about it until it turned up the other day when... uh..." Andrew paused and clenched his jaw. "Anyway, she wasn't always... lucid... so I can't say what's in there. Might be nothing. Don't... get your hopes up, or anything."