Cindy Violated

by Viktor Redreich

  "Hey," I replied glancing over my shoulder at her as I pulled more clothes out of my bag. Mom had tried to convince me to pack fun outfits, but I had shot her down. I wasn’t interested in anything but my usual safe options: long skirts, blouses that buttoned up to the throat, and hairbands to pull my long, wheat-colored hair back.

  "I can’t believe you’re actually here!" she exclaimed excitedly leaping around me to land on the bed in the guest room I had been given to sleep on for the next few weeks. "We’re going to have so much fun.” She grinned and reached over to squeeze my hand.

  Donna was twenty, the same age as me, though that seemed to be about all we had in common any more. She had cropped dark hair and mischievous blue eyes that glimmered in the late-afternoon sun. The last time I had seen her, we had been seventeen, and she had been as nervous as me about the thought of going off and striking out into the adult world. She had never had a boyfriend back then, though she was planning on heading out to college. So, I supposed she had that over me. Maybe that was why Mom had sent me out here because she thought someone a little more normal would be enough to keep me going. Get me out of my own head a little. I resented the very thought of it, even though I knew she was just trying to help.

  But the Donna I had known back then had been more like me than the version I saw now. She had cut all her hair off, and I could see the hint of a tattoo peeking out over her low-slung jeans. She was dressed like she had come straight from the eighties. I loved the way she looked even though I would never admit it. Maybe because I knew there was no way in holy heck I could ever have pulled off an outfit like that without feeling like a fool.

  But she seemed to move around like she knew she was the hottest thing in the world, and it was hard not to think she might be right. She swung her hips when she walked and tipped her head back when she laughed. The guys at her college campus must have been going crazy over her.

  "I’m not sure about fun," I muttered to her without thinking as she lay on my bed.

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  "Hey, what’s wrong with fun?” she replied, tapping my arm. "You anti-fun all of a sudden?”

  "Mom didn’t tell you why she sent me up here, did she?” I sighed.

  She shook her head. "I thought you guys were just stopping by for a visit so she could get a break for a hot second," she teased. "Must be driving her crazy by now, with you still at home ..."

  "Yeah, well, that’s certainly what she thinks," I replied.

  "You mind if I ask you something?”

  "Go ahead."

  "Why are you still at home? I mean, it just doesn’t make any sense. As soon as I got out, it just … it felt like the whole world opened up for me, you know?”

  The way she said it, spreading her arms out wide as though she was giving the entire planet a hug, made it sound a little enticing. But then I saw the glint of a piercing in her belly-button, and remembered that she wouldn’t have put it there for nobody to see. I wondered just how many times she had given herself away by now. Five? Ten? More? I hadn’t even kissed a boy, and she had probably lapped me a hundred times by now.

  "I don’t want to leave home yet, that’s all," I replied firmly. "I’m happy there. I don’t see why I should move on."

  "And that’s why you’ve been sent here, then? So you can see what life’s like on the other side?”

  "I think that’s what she was going for, yes," I agreed. I decided to leave out the bit where I mentioned the clitoris-numbing surgery. After my mother’s reaction, it had been made abundantly clear to me that people didn’t get where I was coming from when it came to that.

  "I think she’s done something brilliant," she replied. "I can show you the ropes! Show you how everything’s done. We can go out partying, get drunk, meet boys ..."

  Honestly, even the mere mention of stuff like that made my body feel like it was seizing up. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. I looked at her outfit again, and tried to imagine myself in something similar--no, no, I would drop dead on the spot. People would take one look at me and know I didn’t belong. I had never so much as had a sniff of booze in my life. Lord knows what it would open up for me if I did. I still felt as though I was teetering on the edge of giving in to my baser desires, but there would be nothing to hold me back if I had something to take the edge off.

  "Hey, calm down." Donna laughed, apparently seeing the panic written all over my face. "I’m just fooling with you. I won’t do anything you don’t want, okay?”

  "Okay." I breathed a sigh of relief. "I don’t think that I would be a very good party buddy."

  "Hey, everyone is once they get a couple of beers in them and learn to let loose," she assured me. "We’ll turn you into a party girl yet, don’t you worry!"

  "I don’t think that’s quite what Mom was going for." I laughed. "She didn’t send me here just to have me come back as a worse version of myself."

  "And what’s so wrong with partying?” she demanded. "There’s nothing wrong with it at all. Everyone does it. I bet your mom did, back in the day."

  "And she was probably wearing an outfit like yours when she did," I joked.

  She gasped in faux-shock at my playful insult. "I don’t know if I will ever recover from that savage burn," she replied, laying the back of her hand over her forehead like she was in a dead faint.

  "I’m sure you’ll survive." I offered her a hand and pulled her upright. I still didn’t quite know what the I was doing here, but at least I was around her again. I enjoyed her company, even if I couldn’t quite relate to the person she had become since the last time we had seen one another.

  "You want to go down for dinner?” she suggested. "Thom has cooked up a lasagna for us, and he’s a really good chef."

  She always referred to her father by his first name--I supposed there was something friendly in their relationship, given that they had lived alone together for the last ten years or so since her mother had left. I couldn’t imagine having that kind of closeness with my own father. I hadn’t seen him beyond a few awkward meetings post-divorce that had tailed off by the time I turned sixteen. I didn’t want to see him anymore. I guess there was some part of me still fearful that he would take one look at me and see I had let him down in some foul way. His voice still lived on in my head, pulsing in my brain. I didn’t need to see him to feel his influence.

  "Yeah, I guess I could eat." I hadn’t had much of an appetite since we’d left the house that morning, but some of the fear and nerves were lifting and I was starting to see how this could be a little fun for me. I didn’t have to take any of it in, for sure, but I could enjoy being away from the stress of my mother, the mounting pressure she put on me every time she peered over my shoulder to see what I was getting up to on the computer.

  Donna hopped off the bed and headed to the kitchen. I followed her smoothing out my skirt and tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear. I wanted to look presentable. That was what I told myself, anyway--it had nothing to do with the fact that the way Thom looked made my heart flutter a little.

  He had strong arms, from the construction work he took care of all day, and slightly overgrown hair. My own father would have snorted at his deep brown curls, called him some cruel name, but I secretly thought they looked nice. They made him seem gentle, soft around the edges, something that my father would never be. Men were to be men and women were to be women. Any deviation from those rules was only going to end badly for everyone involved.

  "So, that’s why--oh, hey, the girls are here." Andrew stopped in his tracks, putting down the beer he had been sipping on. He and Thom were good friends, had been since college. He was probably enjoying the chance to catch up with his companion, where I still felt like I had been booted out of the house for no good reason. I was still fuming that my mother had decided that she got a say in what I did with my own body. Wasn’t that how this was meant to work? My body, my rules? Apparently not.

  "Hey, Andrew," Donna greeted my stepfather.

  I coul
d have sworn I saw her fluttering her lashes at him. I furrowed my brow. I must have been reading that wrong. There was no way that she was even giving him a second glance.

  "It’s so good to see you guys again," Andrew remarked.

  I noticed his gaze flick up and down Donna’s taut, lean body. Probably just noticing how much she had changed since the last time they’d seen each other, right? Nothing to get caught up on. I took my seat at the table, and Thom began to serve dinner.

  "Would you like a glass of wine, Cindy?” Donna asked, getting to her feet to fetch herself a glass.

  I shook my head. "Oh, no, I’m fine," I blurted out.

  Thom smiled at me. "Don’t worry, we won’t rat you out to your Mom," he assured me with a wink.

  I managed a slight laugh. I wasn’t sure it came across as very sincere, but something about feeling his eyes on me made me feel as though I was going to topple straight out of my seat.

  Donna poured herself a generous glass and sat down beside me, taking a sip. I stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t imagine being that comfortable around my family, knocking back booze right there before them. She didn’t seem to give much of a damn. I wondered what that would be like.

  I inhaled the scent of the lasagna before me and smiled. Now, food I could deal with. Food, I was good at. That was probably why, in fact, I had the slight pudge around my tummy and a jiggle to my thighs. I had often wondered if they were there because it was safer to put something between me and the men of the world than it was to just let them come at me willy-nilly. Even with a little more weight on me than I would have liked, I still noticed them glancing at me in the street. Sometimes, it felt as though their gazes were slicing right through me, sending something to boiling temperature deep within my belly. And sometimes, just sometimes, I even allowed myself to enjoy it.

  I took a bite of the food and let out a groan of enjoyment. "Oh, that’s so tasty.”

  I used to pray before every meal, but I had let that trail off as it alienated me more and more from the rest of the high schoolers who already thought I was enough of a kook for not allowing anyone to play spin-the-bottle at my birthday party. Still, every time I ate without prayer, I could hear my father in my head telling me I was doing something wrong. There was a small thrill to defying him, even if he didn’t know it. I hoped it stung him. Hoped that he knew how much I resented him for everything he had planted in my head; the seeds he had allowed to bloom into this twisted-up version of what a good girl should look like.

  "Thom’s always been a great cook," Andrew replied. "Though he’s better with his hands if I remember rightly."

  "I’m sure you’re great with your hands as well, Andrew," Donna replied, and she smiled at him widely. Her face seemed to light up when she had it turned in his direction, and he returned the favor.

  I shifted in my seat. I was sure I could sense something between them but it was nothing more than that, right? Just something? Andrew had been with my mother for nearly seven years. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted by this barely-twenty-something, was he?

  "Anyway, Cindy, what have you been up to since you left school?” Thom asked, turning his attention to me.

  I wondered if he sensed it too. Maybe I should have said something, called them out on their flirtation. But what if I was wrong? I had no grasp of how all that stuff worked. Maybe that was just how you were meant to communicate when you were with other adults. I hadn’t been around anyone but my own family for so long I had forgotten.

  "Uh, not much," I admitted, pushing the food around my plate. I suddenly felt childish like I was being left out of something I should be a part of. All this time, I had hidden away, and now, I was being reminded of the fact that I was so far removed from the rest of the grown-up world. I didn’t like it.

  "You thinking about going to college?" he asked keenly, smiling at me warmly.

  I didn’t want to disappoint him by saying an outright but truthful no, so I just shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet," I replied.

  Truth was, college had never really sounded like that good of a deal to me. I had never much enjoyed studying when I was in school, only doing the bare minimum to keep my grades up. Though I could have gone on and picked up a good course somewhere, I just didn’t want to.

  "Oh, you’d love college." Donna sighed happily. "I really found myself there."

  "And a lot of other people, too, from the sounds of it," Thom teased his daughter.

  She laughed along with him while I felt myself turning bright red. How could they talk like that to one another? It didn’t make any sense to me, and yet it seemed to come naturally.

  "Nothing wrong with that," Andrew remarked, he lifted his beer can to toast her.

  She touched her wine glass against it, and flashed him another smile. This time, I knew something was going on. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was yet.

  Chapter 3

  Secrets at night

  When I woke, in the middle of the night, I was sure those sounds must have been coming from inside my head. There was no way they could be real. Right? Maybe I was hearing the end of a dream I’d been having, something like that.

  I sat up in bed and tried to perk up my hearing, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Was I going to have to get out of bed and fight a burglar? I had just gotten comfortable; I didn’t want to move.

  I heard it again. This time, it was more distinct--a high-pitched moan, followed by a stifled giggle. It sounded like it was coming from the room beside mine, where Donna was sleeping. I furrowed my brow. Maybe she was watching TV because she couldn’t sleep? I could hear a buzzing noise; maybe she was texting someone?

  And then I heard something else. A deeper voice. A man’s voice. There was no way it was coming down a line that crystal clear. No,the man had to be in the room with her. But that didn’t make any sense.

  I dragged myself to my feet, curious. I stretched, and I heard a moan--this time longer, louder, as though whoever it was coming from was starting to grow in boldness. A shush followed, then more giggling. Okay, I had to see what was going on in there if only for my own sanity and to convince myself that I wasn’t imagining it all.

  I opened the door to my bedroom quietly, trying not to let anyone else in the house know I was sneaking out of my room. I still felt sometimes that I was about to be busted in the act, told off for acting in such a way even though I was an adult now. Sneaking through the house like this, I was reminded of all the times Donna and I had crept out of our rooms in the middle of the night to steal food for midnight feasts; the two of us staying up late and talking about the books we had been reading and doing quizzes in the magazines we’d accumulated between us.

  I pressed my ear to her door. I could hear distinct words being exchanged.

  "Keep your voice down ..."

  "Don’t worry, baby, they’re all asleep," Donna assured whoever was in bed with her. She moaned again, and I heard the buzzing pick up once more.

  I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. As soon as I saw what was on the other side, I pulled it shut at once.

  But the image was already burned into my brain. Donna and Andrew wrapped up in each other--he was behind her, she was on all fours, and he was pushed all the way into her … inside of her. He was holding a small plastic object, the source of the buzzing, between her thighs, and her head was tipped back in pure pleasure. It was written all over her face; for anyone who might have wanted to see it.

  I stared into space for a moment, certain I must have just invented the image in my head. There was no way that could have been real. But the noises continued, the sound of their bodies moving together, and I knew I couldn’t have made that up. I had never heard it before, and it was so distinct and obvious. She had looked … My God, she had looked as though it was the greatest feeling in the world, being taken like that. I hadn’t been able to see his face, but I would have put good money on it expressing just the same thing, too.

  I h
urried back to my room and slammed the door shut behind me, hoping that if I closed it tight enough, they might hear it and know I’d caught them in the act. I dived back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide. I was sure I must have gotten something wrong, must have misread something, but it had been real. I could still hear them, as I lay there in bed, doing that to each other.

  I wasn’t sure if I fell asleep again or just lay there all night trying to figure out what I had just seen, but soon enough, morning had come and Thom was up cooking breakfast for the lot of us. If he was aware of what had happened the night before, he was playing it close to his chest.

  "You want some pancakes, Cindy?” he asked as he flipped one.

  I shook my head. "No thanks, I’m not hungry ..."

  Donna emerged, wearing nothing but a thin tank top and a pair of shorts, yawning. She poured herself a coffee and took a long sip, sighing with pleasure.

  "Man, I needed that," she remarked as she flopped down in the chair next to mine.

  "Didn’t sleep well last night?” Thom asked.

  She shook her head. "No, I was tossing and turning all night long," she replied, smiling.

  I just stared at her. How could she be this blatant? This bold? I could hardly look a strange man in the eye without feeling myself blush. I wondered if she knew I’d seen her in action last night, with the man who was meant to be committed to my mother? Would she even care if she did? Her cheeks were a little flushed and her hair was messy. She seemed utterly relaxed like there wasn’t a thing in the world she couldn’t have taken on if she’d wanted to. Was that how it made her feel? When I so much as thought about doing something like that, I felt as though my stomach was going to twist into a knot with the sheer guilt of it. But here she was, not just having sex, but having sex with a man who was already spoken for and strutting around like she owned the place.

  "Morning," Andrew greeted us as he entered the kitchen a few moments later.