Chasing My Unhappy Mate

Younger Alice pov I stared out at the lake with a deep sigh, my little sister Gemma sitting in front of me humming softly. Quietly I stared down at her, her long silky dark gray hair was a mirror to mine, along with our light violet eyes. I’ve been told by a few adults we looked just like our mama did, but I don’t remember her much. I was only eight when she died, shortly after Gemma was born. It was a heart attack I was told, and I nodded my head and kept quiet but I knew it wasn’t a heart attack, I knew it was my daddy. As much as I barely remember mama, I remember her cowering in a corner begging him to stop beating her. I remember her tears pouring down her face and falling into my hair as she covered me with her body, telling him she’d do better, try harder. That was not too long ago, five years ago. I was thirteen now, Gemma was five. Now I was the one cowering in the corner begging him to stop, and she was the one I covered with my body while I told him I’d do better. Somehow I became my mama to him. I’ve heard people whisper enough about how much I look like her, and as I get older I can see the glint in his eye as he looks at me, a disgusting uncomfortable way that makes my skin crawl. More than once he’s called me by my mama’s name. When he looks at me like that I take Gemma out to the lake behind our house. I taught her to swim last year, so we’ll jump into the lake and swim around for a while. It helps me feel clean, like I’ve washed off the dirty he makes me feel when he looks at me like that. After we swim we sit on these gathering of rocks overlooking the lake and dry off. Gemma talks to me about all kinds of crazy things a five-year-old would say, and I just nod and listen to each and everything she says. She can’t speak in the house, she has to stay quiet as a mouse, invisible, or else he’ll see her and remember she exists. I looked up at the position of the sun and sighed, standing up. Gemma looks up at me with a saddened look, she knows we have to go back now. I help hold Gemma up to the window of our bedroom and she slips inside, quiet as a mouse. She’ll stay there hidden in the closet where I’ve made a bed for her on the shelf behind the clothes hanging up. Ever since mama died daddy has gone slightly crazy and has forgotten Gemma even exists. I’ve been the one raising her, feeding her, taking care of her. As long as she’s quiet he forgets about her completely. I walk into the house and go straight into the kitchen, tieing my long hair up and putting on an apron. I clean this kitchen after meals but it’s still always dirty because my daddy is always coming in here grabbing food throwing it around and chucking beer bottles everywhere. As fast as I can I clean the kitchen, knowing he’ll be home soon. My daddy is a warrior, which means me and Gemma are as well, but neither of us has trained. Daddy’s been approached a few times about it but he waves them off saying I’m a female and that’s ridiculous. I’ve been asked more than once but I refuse them, knowing if I’m not home father will beat me, or worse he’ll remember Gemma and beat her. Daddy specialized in that, beating the weaker ones. He threatened to beat me when mama was alive, and he threatens to beat Gemma to keep me in line. When he remembers her, otherwise he just beats me. Once the kitchen is clean I start making dinner. I make my mama’s beef stew, she left behind all her recipe cards, and despite everything, I loved to cook. I popped homemade biscuits into the oven as the stew boiled on the stove and I hummed, wiping the sweat off of my forehead. I reached up high for the bowels and flinched, the skin pulling on my hip where a gathering of healing cigarette burns were. Suddenly I felt a hard chest behind me, and an arm snaked around my waist, pulling me tightly against the chest. I sucked in a deep breath of surprise as his other hand brushed against mine, following where I was going, and grabbed two bowls. I bit my lip, hoping he’d go away so I could grab an extra one for Gemma, or else I’d have to go hungry tonight and give her my food. My body quivering in fear I squeaked out a thank you as he put the bowls on the counter. I waited, wishing he’d let me go but instead he used his free hand to roughly tug my ponytail to the side, exposing my throat. Roughly he leaned down, kissing and sucking on my throat as his hand around my waist lifted to my chest, groping me through my shirt. I whimpered, tears falling from my eyes as I shook, fear making my voice trapped as my mouth fell open in horror. “This next baby better be a boy Hailey, or else I’m not going to be very happy.” He whispered against my neck, calling me my mother’s name. I put my hands on the handles of the pot and gripped it tightly, closing my eyes tightly as I tried to picture myself somewhere else, anywhere else.