She laid there next to him, watching the movie, thoughts numb. He had started to trace his finger softly up her thigh in little swirl motions, slowly inching up to the vortex of her thighs, but never quite reaching it. She continued to pay attention to the movie. She didn’t really understand it. The title had the word fish in it. Big Fish, maybe? There is an old man standing by a lake. Just staring. Like her, just staring at the T.V.. She wanted to get up and run. But she was frozen. Pale. Numb. Her thoughts were numb.
A car pulled into the drive way. He stopped, “bathroom break,” and disappeared up the stairs. Relief struck her face as they walked through the door. But she didn’t say anything. He came back down the stairs, “darling, you’re home.” She smiled and carried the bags to the kitchen. She got up to help her sister and mother with the groceries. But she didn’t say anything.
Days passed on like this for a while. Whenever she was alone with him, he would start to do things. Touch her in all the places he shouldn’t, and every day she wouldn’t say anything.
She woke up at five. Five a.m. And he was there. Next to her. Saying goodbye for his 24 hour shift? She looked around confused. Shock ran across his face, “don’t look, I just got out of the shower.” And she was numb. And she didn’t say anything.
But her sister did. And one morning she was woken up and ushered out of bed and into the car. Her mother was crying. Her sister was crying. Her brother just sat there as confused as she was. They drove away. To a place that was supposed to help. She pressed charges for the things he had done to her little sister.
And this was all her fault. And she didn’t say anything.
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