None of the doors would lock since before the event, all of the key cards that locked and unlocked the doors were computer activated. I led her towards a suite on the first floor. It has a king size bed in one room and a couch in another.
The rooms are moderately clean, which means they weren't picked over yet. I'm not comfortable with the door being unlocked so I take one of the wooden chairs and prop it under the door handle. Hensley digs through her bag and hands me a bar she snagged from the town we stopped in.
We sit and eat in silence. I can tell any conversation will be forced, so I don't try. I strip off my clothes exhausted, then realize Hensley looks at me with pursed lips.
"What? I'm exhausted. Aren't you? You should try to sleep." I encourage her - at least foolishly I think I do.
"Did you just fucking tell me to go to bed?" Her eyes are blazing.
___
My mother always tried to one-up anyone else she was around to make herself feel good. Not that she left the house much, but when she took the rare occasion to hang out with other mothers, she liked to tell them what a good mother she was.
If one mother talked about how healthy her kids ate, my mom would say she does portion control with her kids. (Because starvation does control portions).
If a mother says she has a strict bedtime of 9:30 pm with her kids, my mom would say she has always been strict with her kids' bedtimes without giving the other parent what time that was. (Because in her mind, she stuck to a bedtime, it was just different each night. When she wanted us to go to bed, no matter what time it was, it could be 5 pm or 11 pm, she would always say, "you know it's your bedtime.")
___
Hensley and I always vowed we would never let each other starve or ever let someone tell us to go to bed again.
"You know what, Hens? I love you. If it sounded like that, I’m sorry. I’m exhausted and I’m worried that you are also. That’s all. I’ll go sleep on the couch so I don't piss you off anymore."
I can feel her stare burning a hole in my back. I walk over to the couch, lay my head down on the arm, and cover up with the thin blanket.
She walks into the bathroom, then a couple of minutes later, I feel her hand on my leg. I open my eyes to see her holding a pillow. "I'm not pissed off at you," she throws the pillow on me, "but you can still sleep out here."
She sways her hips and walks into the bedroom. I chuckle at her, situate the pillow, then crash.
___
Thwack, thwack, thwack
The leather strap comes down harder and faster. Catching my breath isn’t an option, the searing pain is brutal.
"Tieran, you will fucking learn to mind your own business. Hensley’s ass belongs to me, not you!"
Thwack, thwack, thwack
"Leave her alone!" I manage to grind out, but the nameless man keeps touching her, hurting her. His face is gushing blood where I take a piece of him, but now I’m being restrained and made to watch while mother whips me.
"Hensley’s body was made to be used. She was a whore when she was born, and she'll be a whore until the day she dies."
Thwack, thwack, thwack
The blood trickling down my back, and the welts that rise up are no match to the pain etched on my sister's face.
I look my mom in the eyes. "I will fucking kill you one day."
That's when she brought the bat to my face.
___
That damn dream wakes me up more often than not. I wasn't kidding when I said it to her then, and to this day I still mean it.
I don't know how long I slept, but I feel rested. Hensley is still asleep, so I get dressed and walk to the office to see if there is anything to scavenge.
I manage to find three bottles of water. It isn't much, but it's something. I did find a small rack of paperbacks so I snatch a couple of those. When I go back into the room, Hens is still in snooze mode. I crack open a bottle of water and then open up the book I grabbed from the office.