Nuvasu

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The following Wednesday marked two more weeks till Thanksgiving, and the end of my childhood as I knew it. The day started out the same as any other, with me waking up after dreaming of fields full of flowers, animals running around and the sun shining bright. My mother and George were not awake yet, so I decided to make myself some honey bread and read to Hanna. I had found a book that told a story about a boy who was lost in the wilderness and was befriended by a wolf who showed him how to find his way home. Though the book had no pictures, and had a lot of words I couldn’t understand, I did get the jest of it, and enjoyed the story a lot. My mother came out of her bedroom about an hour after I woke up and headed to the kitchen to make some coffee for George and herself. I didn’t like coffee. No matter how much sugar I put into it, it always tasted to bitter for me, besides, I wasn’t allowed to drink it because George said I was too young, and it would make me stop growing or something like that. As my mother started making her coffee, I went into the kitchen to see if she would like me to make her some honey bread. I liked Honey bread, and it was so easy to do, just spread honey on bread. You can’t get too much easier than that. She told me no thanks, and then started swearing about their being no more coffee, and then she left the kitchen and walked back into her bedroom. A few moments later George and her started shouting at each other from behind the closed door. I just went back to the reading room, and prepared to hear yet another argument that would almost surely involve me before it was over. George stormed out of the bedroom first followed by my mother and headed towards the kitchen, then the living room, which was right next to the reading room where I was. I put the book away quickly and thought it would be best if I waited the argument out in my room. Less chance to be mentioned if I weren’t in sight, I figured. As I was leaving the reading room, I seen George yelling at my mother for trying to tell him what to do, then my mother replied something that I couldn’t understand and George turned and slapped her very hard in the face, not once, but twice. It was hard enough to make my mother fall against the far wall in the hallway. I just stood there, shocked at what I just witnessed. My mother raised her hands as if to strike George, but he caught her arms and pushed her back into the living room, and then followed quickly behind her. I could only hear the slaps that echoed into the hallway, but from the way it sounded, it was George hitting her again, several times over. I ran to try to help my mom, but George stopped me as I entered the room and ordered me to go to my room. I could see past him, as my mother sat on the floor, covering her face, while sobbing into her hands. I didn’t want to go to my room and leave my mother to be beaten, but George was so much bigger than me. I began pleading with George to stop hitting her, and he told me again to get into my room or else I’d be next. I was so frightened at what was happening, that I didn’t realize that I hadn’t done what George had told me too, but quickly learned it as his hand swept across my cheek. I turned and ran towards my room crying and feeling the sting on my face where is hand made contact. It wasn’t the first time I was slapped, my Poppy had taken his hand to my backside on more than one occasion, but I was never hit in the face, so it not only hurt, but it shocked me to the point that I had lost my ability to breathe right. As I reached my door, I was sobbing and trying to catch my breath at the same time. I could still hear George yelling at my mother, though it was either drowned out by my sobs or by the pounding of my heart, which felt like it was about to burst out of my chest. After a few minutes, the yelling turned into loud talking and then talking at a regular tone with the occasional raising of a voice here and there. I was hoping that the fight was over. I still could not believe that George had struck my mother first, then me. He had scared me so bad, that I didn’t think I would ever leave my room, not even to go to the bathroom. I had seen people mad before, like my Poppy, and Jacy and even Matwau, but I never seen someone so anger that it frightened me to the bone.
I must have cried myself to sleep, but not for very long before my mother came into my room to see if I was all right. She sat on the corner of my bed, and I sprung up and wrapped my arms around her. I started to cry again as she told me everything was ok, and George was sorry for hitting me. “But what about you?” I asked her in between sobs, “Are you ok? I seen him hit you, and I heard and saw you crying.” “I’m fine, really.” She said pulling my arms from around her neck so that I was facing her. “It’s over now, I just should not have gotten so upset with him.” “But mom, he hit you, look, you have a mark by your eye.” I cried to her pointing to her face. “Look,” replied my mother, “George took us in and I know things are different, but they’ll get better. I promise. I know you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you too, just try to listen to me and George, and don’t get involved when we’re arguing and we’ll pull through this.” She then got up from my bed and I wanted to tell her that I wanted to back home with Poppy and Nanna, but I thought it would be better to just not say anything for now. “Why don’t you pull yourself together and come into the living room. I think it’s starting to snow. I know you like to watch the snow fall.” She asked motioning me to follow her. “I will, in a bit. Ok?” I told her, and she nodded and left into the hallway. I really didn’t want to see George right now. My feelings were more hurt than my cheek at this point, and I didn’t want him to know that I was crying again. He would probably call me as baby or something to that affect, like he had done before when I would cry. For a while I just sat on my bed thinking about my uncle Jacy and aunt Bena. I know that if my uncle Jacy were around, George would have never slapped my mom or me, and if my aunt Bena were here, I would at least have someone to talk and play with. I missed all of them, even Matwua and Abir, though they liked to be mean towards me. At least with them, you seen it coming, they seldom hid their ignorance when it came to me, but George changed his moods with the drop of a hat. You never knew if he was going to be nice or mean from minute to minute except for before an argument and after one with my mother. I figured I might as well go in the other room to see the snow, and to show them that I was feeling better, especially now that they weren’t fighting. Plus, George did have a habit of being super nice after my mom and him made up, so I thought I might as well use that to my advantage and spend some time with my mother before she went to work.
It started to snow just as my mother had said with big fluffy flakes that looked heavy by the way they came down fast. The speed of the snowfall never varied, as it did from time to time because of the wind or other reasons. I was able to assume that though it was snowing, it was calm outside, like the fun days of sleigh riding and snowman building, When you were able to play outside for hours before the cold completely set in. I should have figured that it wasn’t very windy outside because the blankets in my room hanging over my windows weren’t moving with the breeze like it does on real windy days, and the people that were walking around on the streets below weren’t in a real hurry, though they didn’t seem to be Window Shopping either. As my mother readied herself for work, George prepared snacks for his card game tonight, and started supper for him and I. By the way I heard pots clanking around, I could tell we were going to have pasta tonight, which was no real surprise since we’ve been having a lot of pasta lately. George liked to eat a lot of pasta dishes of all different kinds and shapes, and even though they had different names and shapes, they all tasted the same to me, and I was never a big on spaghetti, I ate it along with him and my mother so as to not cause any problems. While George was in the kitchen, I heard my mother go into there and asked him something that I couldn’t hear, but knew it wasn’t good because George started raising his voice again, reminding her on how ungrateful she and I were. She quickly apologized to him and came into the room I was in to give me a kiss goodbye. As she was leaving, she promised me that she would drive carefully, and would see me in the morning since she was going to be working late, while George slammed pots and pans around in the kitchen, complaining out loud about her. I could tell it was going to be another bad night, but I could have never known how bad it was going to get.
George and I had our dinner about an hour later, which went much better than I previously thought it would have been. We spoke for a bit about the books I was reading, and then about some of his poker friends. The usual people were to come over to play except for two new people I never heard of before. The regular people that I knew were, Mike, whose nickname was ‘Michelanglo’, then Joseph other wise known as ‘Low blow Joe’, and Lenny who was playfully called ‘Loose Lenny’. The two new people George told me about were a Paul, and another Joe. He didn’t tell me their nicknames, though I’m pretty sure they had some. They were all to come over earlier due to the snow, so after we finished eating, I started the dishes while George pulled out the extra chairs for his card table, and got ready the snacks and liqueur that he kept hidden somewhere downstairs. I was so surprised on how nice George was being towards me with him and my mom arguing again before she left for work and all, but here he was, helping me in the kitchen with the big dirty pots while I was reassigned to dry the dishes. With him helping me, we were done in no time at all, so I went back into the reading room to finish the story I started earlier, and to watch the snowfall. George had informed me that he was going to take a bath, which I had no complaints about since he was… well let’s just say he didn’t bath everyday, or every other day for that matter. The snow had picked up some, and the ground was getting pretty covered and I could tell the wind had also picked up from the last time I looked out the window. I got up from my perch and began to read from where I left off. I really wanted to know if the boy who was lost in the woods would be guided out of the woods by the wolf, or if the wolf would trick him into being his dinner. So far in the story, the wolf had seemed to be trust worthy, but according to my grandfather, they weren’t good animals at all. As I read on, I noticed that the wolf described in the book sounded a lot like the dog in my dreams. Grey, with bushy cheeks and a bushy tail, with white paws both front and back. That was where the similarities stopped for me. In my dreams, I could never get close enough to the dog to get a good look at him. Every time I would get closer to him, I either woke up, or something else would catch my eye in my dream, and I’d look away, only to look back to see the dog had moved to a different location as if playing with me. It was odd, but then again, aren’t all dreams corky in their own way?
I had finished the story of the boy who was rescued by the wolf as George’s poker pals started to arrive. Mike was first, then, Joseph and the new Joe followed by the others, each bringing with them another bottle of booze. Every time someone would come in, they would give another weather update on how bad the snow was getting. I went back to the window to check on it for myself, when to my surprise it looked like the whole town had a huge fluffy comforter covering it. The tracks on the street made by the vehicles passing by below were already filling up from either the falling snow, or from the snow that was being blown around. In the doorways of the buildings across the street, snow dunes had begun to pile high, and though the darkness of night was taking hold, it was still very light out due to the whiteness of the snow. George and the rest had started talking for awhile, mostly about politics before they started playing cards. Apparently George was not alone in his views of women in politics from the way the others added their opinions about the way females thought. It wasn’t long before I could over hear George’s distasteful comments go from females in office to the females in his house. Even though I really didn’t know a lot of the ‘bad’ words and there meanings, the things that he was saying still made me both uncomfortable, and anger. Every Wednesday, George would share with his friends the things that he and my mother would do behind closed doors in gross detail, while another card player would try to top that story with one of his own. It was a shame for George that he couldn’t win money for his stories instead of trying to win it in cards, because he always seemed to win in at least that contest. I decided that I would just go into my room and play until it was bedtime, and though I didn’t enjoy going into the same room as the gamblers, I had to tell George where I was going. He liked it better when he knew where I was and what I was doing in case he needed me for something, and didn’t feel like looking for me. As I entered the living room which doubled as the card playing room, George called me over to him and I could tell he had drank a lot already. “Here’s my little princess.” He said as he put his arm across my shoulder. “Hi George, I’m going to go to my room now.” I answered him sounding like if I was tired. “Well, before ya do that my little squaw, why don’t you do me a favor and get us some more pretzels.” He asked me. “Ok,” what’s a Squaw?” I asked him as I turned to go into the kitchen. “That’s a lady savage.” Replied Lenny without looking away from his cards, as everyone around the table, including George busted out laughing. “I’m not a savage! You are!” I snapped at him raising my voice over their laughter. “Oh, but you are. I can tell. You have the ‘Ingine’ hair, the ‘Ingine’ red skin, and look at the fire in your eyes! Wow, your a savage if I ever seen one.” Said Lenny in a matter of fact tone while everyone but George chuckled along. “You’ll pardon me fellows,” said George getting up from his chair, “I have to explain some manners to this one. Be right back.” And took me by my arm into the kitchen. “Now, you listen, and you listen good,” He hissed at me, “They are my guests. If you ever, and I mean ever, disrespect any of my guests again, your skinny ass will be out in the snow quicker than shit! Got it?” He was still holding my arm, and was starting to squeeze it. “Yes, but he called …” I tried to explain, but George squeezed even harder and said, “Got it?” I just replied yes and ran to my room. As I turned the knob to my door, George yelled down to me asking if I were still going to get the pretzels and then his fellow card players erupted into laughter again, only louder than before.
I entered my room and closed the door behind me as fast as I could. I had started to cry as I came down the hallway, and quickly realized that crying was a bad idea for more than one obvious reason. Not only did I hate to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but it was so cold in my room that I was afraid my tears were going to freeze as they rolled down my face. It was that cold in my room, that I could literally see my breathe every time I exhaled. I really wasn’t in the mood to play with my dolls, and sleep was now, very far away, so I thought about sneaking out into the reading room and breaking one of George’s rules by bringing the book back to my room to read it. George had warned me before about removing books from there. He had told me that that’s why it was called a ‘Reading Room’, not a playroom, or bathroom or something like that. The bottom line was that I wasn’t allowed to take the books out of there. I figured that with the situation being what it was, I could more than likely get away with bring a book into my room and returning it before he would know. After all, he was both busy playing cards, and drunk. Then I thought about what if he caught me taking it, or bring it back. I pondered it for a while and figured that I could easily sneak out and grab a book without being noticed, and I always woke up way before him and my mother, so there was no problem there, but every time I got up to go get a book, the little voice inside me would tell me I was going to get in trouble. Being just over than four years old, the word ‘conscience’ was just another big word that I didn’t understand, but yet I knew I had one, as everyone is supposed to have one, and like everyone one, I sometimes didn’t listen to mine, like then. I finally mustarded up the courage, and opened my door ever so slowly and stepped into the hallway. There voices rushed down the hallway towards me so fast that I almost ran back into my room, but then realized that they were always that loud, my door had just muffled it down some when it was closed. I started creeping along the wall, pausing with every other step before it dawned on me that at this point, I haven’t done anything wrong yet, I was just merely walking in the hallway.
I made it into the reading room without one noticing, so I decided to at least try to find a book that I was to read a little. As I looked around, my heart started pounding, so I just grabbed a book that I already looked at. For some reason, I always considered what I did with books as reading them, but in all actuality I just merely looked at them and put the words together that I knew in order to understand it. What if once I did learn to read, I went back and read these stories all over again only to find out that I didn’t like the books that I did now? Why was I even thinking about that at a time like this? Oh well, just grab and go, and perhaps I could learn more words from it this time around I thought to myself as I began my stealth journey back to my bedroom. Low Blow Joe had said something that made them all start laughing really hard again, so I took that as my cue, and quickly, but yet so quietly began tip-toeing down the hallway hoping they would all stay distracted just long enough for me to get to my room. I never looked back to see if anyone might have came into the hallway because I was afraid of it either slowing me down, or worse yet, that George would for some reason see me. Just as I passed George’s and my mother’s bedroom, I heard someone opening the bathroom door. Though my heart was about to pop from my chest, I kept going. That’s when I heard the voice of the person now leaving the bathroom calling to me. I stopped, but didn’t look back and tried to conceal the book against my stomach. It was one of the new people there that night, Paul I think his name was, and he called to me again to get me to go over to him. After the second time he called to me, George came into the hallway to see what Paul was doing, I guess. I tried to keep my back to them as they both walked up to me. George began talking to me first, by asking what was the matter. I just turned my head and told him nothing was the matter, but I couldn’t think of any reason why I was in the hallway walking back towards my room. He must have picked up on that because he came down the hallway to me. “What have you got there, Nuvasu?” He asked me, looking around my small frame. “Nothing. Well, I have a book.” I said knowing that I was caught and lying was only going to make it worse. “Nothing huh?” George said as if I hadn’t mentioned that I had a book. “Well, it seems to me like someone is fibbing and breaking the rules. What do you think there, ah, Paul?” “I wouldn’t ask me If I were you,” answered Paul “I think they are all still a bunch of thieves. A hundred years of us teaching them and they still are born with that instinct.” “Not now, Paul.” George told him and then faced me. “What? Are you trying to make me pissed at you? Why are you taking a book to your room?” “I just thought that I could read it there, so I wouldn’t bother you.” I said, hoping to play on his sympathies then, I remembered he rarely showed that side of himself. “I think that maybe you should, ah, ah, well, put that book back. Look, I know I’ve been drinking, But if you think you can be bad because I have had a few, well, you’re wrong.” George said, slurring at me. By the way he looked and sounded, I could tell he had a lot more than a few drinks, as did Paul. I didn’t even bother wondering what Paul had meant when he had made the statement “we were born with that instinct”. I just stood there, looking down at my feet, fearing that George was going to break out yelling at me. “I think you best go and get ready for bed after you put that book back.” He added as he pointing first towards the kitchen area, then to my bedroom. I almost laughed, but stopped myself before I really got it from him. I took the book back as they walked down the hallway to the living room, and then went into my room to dress for bed. It was 8:10 according to the clock in the reading room, which was really early for me to go to bed. I usually went to bed around 9:30 or so, but I was more than glad to go to sleep early and get this day over with.
I laid in my bed for what felt like hours, shivering under my blankets, while watching the ones covering the windows move around from the breeze outside. I climbed out of bed and walked over to see if something was blocking my heating vent. Their wasn’t anything in front of it, but there was no heat coming out of it either. I got back into bed then, figuring that I might as well try harder to fall asleep without any heat. For as much as I tried, I just couldn’t stop shivering, therefore I was never going to be able to fall asleep, not to mention, George and his friends were getting louder by the hour. As much as I hated the idea of going out there, I had to let George know that my room was freezing because there was no heat coming out of my vent. I waited for a few more minutes, hoping that the heat would magically start flowing from the vent, but the longer I waited, the colder I got. I finally crawled out of my bed, opened my door and walked down the hallway to the living room. As I walked along, I started to think about all the times just today, that I’ve been up and down this hallway. Put that number with all the times I walked it since we moved in with George, and I’ll bet it would equal the distance from here to my grandparents house. Oh, the things that go through your head when your dreading the things you must do. When I got close enough to the doorway to the living room, I softly called to George, hoping he would come into the hall so I could explain to him about the lack of heat in my room. At first, I didn’t think he had heard me over everyone talking, but then he hushed up everyone, and told me to come into the room. I looked down at what I had on. It was a regular nightgown that I probably out grew last year, but it was still long enough to go down below my knees. I wasn’t sure why I cared about how I looked, it was more than apparent that they had bad feelings towards me, so they would find fault with me no matter how I looked, or talked or even acted. George called me again, this time louder, which startled me, though I was sure he hadn’t intended to do so. I stepped just into the doorway, and looked around. The whole room was full of smoke and stank really, really bad. I could tell without even looking that George had broke out his private stock of cigars which they must have just lit up recently since I couldn’t smell it in the hallway yet. “What’s the matter now, honey?” George asked in a childish way, as if mocking me. “Yeah, what’s the matter? Are us big mean peoples being to loud for you?” Joked someone else, Mike I think, as everyone busted out laughing. “George, there isn’t any heat in my room. It’s very cold in there, so I can’t sleep.” I told him. “Hmmm, let me think.” Said George as he picked up his glass half full of what looked like whiskey, and the drinking it down in two gulps. “Hows about you… no … ok, Why don’t you just go to sleep in my room, and I’ll be getting right on that missing heat thing tomorrow, when I can see a bit straighter.” The others sitting around the table laughed even harder than I ever heard them before. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there were twenty people in that room instead of six of them, by how loud they were. “But what…” I started to say, but then retried after raising my voice to have George hear me, “But what about you and my mother? Where will you and her sleep?” “Oh, I’ll send your momma in wit you while I’ll sleep on the couch.” Stated George, and following it up with some joke about it not being the first or the last time for that. I didn’t even try to reply, and turned and went towards the bathroom as everyone started yelling goodnight and other things I couldn’t make out.
After I went to the bathroom, I walked the short walk to my mom and George’s bedroom. Their room was so much warmer than mine, and they had a big heavy quilt on the bed. It was so comfy and warm in that bed, that I wasn’t in there for more than fifteen minutes before I fell asleep, even with them hooting and hollering out there. I was just about to enter that really good part of a deep sleep where your dreams take over for reality, when something stirred me awake. It was extremely dark in their bedroom, and I couldn’t see anything or anyone and for some reason, instead of asking to make sure it was my mother, I just laid there pretending that I was still fast asleep. As I listened to see if I could tell if it was diffidently her, I started hearing things that told me it wasn’t, that is, unless my mother recently started groaning in a manly manner as she got ready for bed. I pretty much knew it was George then and just figured he was changing to go out and sleep on the couch. Apparently they had finished playing cards because the house was as quiet as a church on Saturday as George would say, and why else would he be getting dressed for bed. I waited till I felt he was finished before I began relaxing again and letting my mind drift away. I closed my eyes and wondered why I had them open in the first place, due to the fact that I couldn’t see anything anyway, when all the sudden I felt someone climbing into the bed, and it only took a second for the over powering odors of whiskey, cigar smoke and sweat, to let me know that it was George. I was about to sit up and remind him that he said he was going to sleep on the couch and me and mother were to sleep in here, but as I thought of it, George placed his hand on my stomach over the blanket and said, “theirs my girl.” I guess he really did have too much to drink tonight and he thought I was my mother. At first I thought it was funny, but then he began rubbing my tummy slowly in small circles and went, “hmmm.’ Like the sound one might make when they were comfortable. He then took his hand and moved it under the quilt and replaced it on my stomach again. Now I didn’t find it too funny, in fact, I found it very unsettling, and with the way his whiskey breath was blowing, I could tell he was laying on his side, facing me. He started rubbing my stomach again, but in wider circles that landed very near my chest and neither regions. I tried to pretend that I was still sleeping, but I could feel my body tensing up on me each time his hand made a pass by my chest. It felt so wrong, but yet the fear that I had kept me from speaking out, so I just laid there pretending I was sound asleep, hoping that he would follow my lead and fall asleep himself. Though I had my eyes closed earlier, I still tried to close them tighter and tighter until I started to see lights going off in the front of my eyelids. George then tried to turn my body to face his, in which I let out a fake groan, and locked my body real tight, but that only made him try harder until he stopped trying to turn my whole body, and then just turned my head. Before I could turn my head back, he kissed me once on my check and paused for a second before he planted one on my lips. I locked up my lips as well, as if I had just tasted a lemon, but that didn’t stop him from kissing me again, this time harder.
I finally got up the courage, and said to him, “George, I’m Nuvasu, remember?” in hopes that he would snap out of whatever drunken stupor he was in. He stopped kissing he and began rubbing my stomach again, and said, “I know, Shhh.” I became even more confused and frightened then. He knew I was Nuvasu, not my mother. Why was he acting like this? Why was he kissing on me? Where was my mother? As all these questions raced through my mind, I decided to get out of his bed, but as I started getting up, his hand, which was on my chest, guided me back down, almost as if he was holding me down, but not with a lot of force, but then again, with my size compared to his, he didn’t really need to apply much force. “Relax honey.” He said to me and made that shushing sound again. His hand left my chest and ran down my leg to the end of my nightgown and then it was under it. He again ran his hand up my body, but this time it was under my clothes. I could feel the tears running down my face, as my heart was about to beat out of my chest. George once again kissed my cheek, while his hand massaged my breast area, and then slid down to the start of my underwear. My whole body was aching from having it locked up so tight, and I was on the brink of a very bad headache from holding my eyes so tight that the lights behind my eyes no longer flickered like the light of a candle, but now lit up like a bright lamp. I was so scared, petrified to the core. I knew this was wrong, so very wrong, and I knew that George did too, but yet he wasn’t stopping. Why?
I guess my panic took over because I started to become light headed, even though I could hear myself crying, I no longer left it. That was when I heard a voice say to me, “Come with me, come my child. It’ll be alright.” That voice wasn’t George’s, and I was pretty sure no one else was in the room, and then it hit me. That voice was in my own head. I knew that voice, sorta, anyway. It was a voice I had heard in my head sometimes when I played with my dolls and stuffed animals. Why was I hearing it now? Then it came again. “Nuvasu, follow me, I’ll take you away from this, for at least a while anyway.” I could now see an image in my mind of who was talking to me. It was that dog from my dreams, but now I could see him more clearly. He wasn’t a dog at all. He was a wolf, and a magnificent looking one at that, standing proudly in the field in my minds eye. Just then, I felt George slip his hand into my undergarment and continue until he reached my private area. I almost opened my eyes, but stopped because for those few seconds that I heard that voice, a calm washed over me, where I felt no fear, no sadness, just piece. I all but lost the image of the wolf, and my fear was taking over me again. I could feel George touching me and trying to open my legs that were still very stiff even though my muscles were hurting. “Nuvasu, you must come. It’s the only way right now, the only way to end your pain, your suffering. I can not stop him, nor can you, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay here and let it happen.” It was the wolf again. “But how?” I asked, not out loud, but in my head. “Just follow me,” The wolf told me, “walk along with me as you do in your dreams. Trust me my sweet child, trust me.” “But I’m not sleeping, or am I?” I asked him. “No, I’m afraid not, if you were, I would have gotten him well before he got to you. We have been together for many, many years, though you had only just begun to dream of this place.” He assured me as he motioned to our surroundings. We were in the field again, but this time it seemed different, more complete. Though it was night here just like where I was in bed, it wasn’t scary here at all. It was beautiful with fireflies crisscrossing each other, crickets making their happy songs and the moon and stars lighting up the night sky with a luminescence glow that hid nothing in the shadows. “If I’m not sleeping, how can I be in my dream? And how can a wolf talk? Wolves don’t talk. Not even in my dreams.” I began questioning him. “Well, I see your point.” The wolf said, “First, let me introduce myself. I am Nanuk This forest, this field is my home.” “ I know that name,” I said excitedly. “I heard it along time ago, form my aunt Bena I think.” “Perhaps, but it is the name that I use now. This place and all that you see here, you created. It is where you feel safe. Though I cannot explain it so that you’ll understand now, one day you will. And if you want, I’ll be here by your side as I am now.” Nanuk begun to explained when a blinding pain pulled me from my safe place. George had started to place one of his fingers between my legs and into my privates. “No,” I tried to shout, but it came out more like a growl. “Stop George. Please.” I began crying and with my hands, I tried to pull his out from where it was. That just angered him, because he became more forceful which caused me more pain. “Shut up!” he hissed at me in a low, raspy whisper. “You shut up now! You like to be a bad girl well this is what bad girls do. They like it, do you like it?” He said forcing his finger deeper inside of me. “No, I don’t like it. It hurts.” I cried. The more I tried to wrench away, the more he seemed to enjoy it. I began holding my breathe without even knowing I was doing so, and once again I became light headed. “Nuvasu, Come, Now!” Came the voice of Nanuk again but this time more commanding. “Why is like that?” I asked Nanuk, still crying, even in my dream type place. “It’s hard to say, but I’ll stay here, by your side until your ready to go back.” He said, assuring me. “But I don’t want to go back. It hurts there. I’m afraid there. Please, let me stay here.” I pleaded. “Oh Nuvasu, You can’t stay here, well, not forever. But you do have the power to come back whenever you want, whenever you need. I think you know that.” Said Nanuk. “No I don’t. I don’t know that at all!” I shouted, “All’s I do know is I’m all alone there except for that monster. You brought me here, you can keep me here.” “No, no, I didn’t bring you here I just showed you another way to come here.” He answered me, “Remember, this all around us is in your mind. True, I’ve always been here, waiting. Waiting till you needed me, but I think that you know that I’ve always been here. Watching and waiting.” “Why do you think that?” I asked, looking into his face. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn I could see a smile cross his face. “Well, I can answer that for you. Didn’t you ever notice that when you were by yourself, you never felt alone? That is because I was there, deep inside of you, watching over you.” Nanuk explained. I was confused, but yet I knew what he was saying was true. “We are as one, you and I. Just trust in that, and know that I am always with you. Though I cannot stop the actions around you, I can help you here. In this place.” “I do trust you, and I want to stay. I want to stay here.” I replied, almost begging. “I’m sorry, it is time for you to go back. But I’ll be right here when you need. Don’t be sad. Be strong. I know you can. If you believe in me, believe in yourself as well.” He said, as he started to turn away from me. I tried to go to him, but I was startled by something outside of here.
It was the bed moving. Apparently George had finished doing whatever he was doing to me and had gotten out of the bed. It was still dark in the room, but my eyes had adjusted enough for me to see that he was wiping his hands and putting on his pajama bottoms. It was as if he knew I was watching him because he said to me, “You awake? You better go sleep in your room. There’s an extra blanket on the foot of my bed here.” That was it? No ‘I’m sorry’ no, ‘will you forgive me?’ No sorrow or remorse, just get out. I started climbing out of the bed when I noticed that I was hurting between my legs where he had his fingers. I let out an, ‘ouch’ sound as I stepped onto the floor, not because I stepped on anything, but because I was sore where I was never sore before. As I passed him to go out the door, which he had opened, I guess to allow light in from the hallway he grabbed me by my arm, not hard, but a firmly. “Now look, See what happened here tonight was because you were bad,” he said in a soft tone, “Bad things happen to bad girls. Understand?” I don’t, but I shook my head as if I did. “Good, very good. Now you’re going to be a good girl from now on, right?” Once again I just shook my head. I was afraid that if I tried to talk, I would burst out crying. “Good. That’s what I wanted to here. Now good night.” I went to turn away from him to go to my room, but he still had hold of my arm. “Oh, one more thing, princess.” He began to say, squeezing my arm a little harder. “If you should happen to tell your mom about this, what happened here tonight, well, that’ll be bad, very bad. Understand?” “Yes, I won’t.” I answered him, but not really meaning it one bit. “Well, I hope not. That is, if she’d believe you at all.” He added as he released my arm. I walked the cold walk back to my room wondering why wouldn’t she believe me? I never lied to her before, and I didn’t mean to start now. I was her daughter. She would believe me, wouldn’t she? This doubt crept into my mind. She has pushed me aside before. First, with her other boyfriends, then with George, and now with this job. No, that’s stupid I thought to myself as I climbed into my frozen bed. I left my door to my room open so I could get warm air in here, plus I could hear when my mother came home. I was going to tell her, the first chance I got when George wasn’t around I thought to myself as I closed my eyes. As I laid in bed, the realness of it all started to seep in again. What if I told her and George found out? Would he really hurt me once the truth was out? Look how he was today. Hitting both of us then hurting me in that gross manner. Maybe I should sleep on it. I hadn’t realized it while my mind was racing, but once it slowed down, I knew that I was very tired now, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep again.