Hillary_Flesh and Blood

by Angel Gelique

  ~4~

  Hillary had remained in her room despite her mother’s incessant ranting and raving. She had used her ear buds to listen to music and tune Kathy out. She barely heard her over the noise coming from her iPhone. Caleigh spent the morning in her room texting her friends while Michael held Storm in his lap for nearly an hour. Hillary didn’t even notice when Kathy slipped away to get ready for church.

  It was almost nine-thirty now. Hillary was dozing off on her bed when she heard the banging at her door.

  “Go away!” she yelled.

  Her father entered her room and stood with his arms crossed directly in front of her bed.

  “Leave me alone,” Hillary spat.

  “Why aren’t you ready for church?”

  “I said I’m not going...unless of course you’d like me to tell the pastor all about the things you do to me...the things you make me do to you...and how I got this black eye.”

  “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough drama for today?”

  “Can you go now?”

  Michael threw his hands up in resignation. It was getting late and given the way Hillary had been acting, he didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Fine Hillary, for today, but this is not going to be the norm from now on. Later tonight we’re gonna have a long talk about your attitude.”

  “Stay away from me,” she replied, “go pretend you’re a good Christian.”

  Michael refused to let Hillary get a rise out of him. That would come later when he returned to her room that night. He would do whatever it took to regain control and dominion over her, even if it meant blackening her other eye. He turned and rushed out of the room, leaving her door open. He was greatly agitated and couldn’t wait for the day to finally end.

  Hillary was too annoyed to try to nap. When she heard the front door close, she walked downstairs to the family room. She curled up on the comfortable oversized couch and turned on the television. She didn’t even care what was on she just needed mind-numbing repose.

  About forty minutes later, Hillary got up to get something to eat. She walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and browsed the shelves for a snack. She settled on some leftover fried chicken and placed two drumsticks on a small dish.

  On her way back to the couch, she noticed some strips of bacon in the dog’s food bowl. She scowled as she imagined her father cuddling up with the dog as he often did. He probably gave her all of the bacon leaving nothing for the human inhabitants he seemed to care so little for. It just wasn’t fair how he had no problem hurting his own child but treated the family dog like the most important thing in the world.

  Storm followed Hillary to the family room and sat at her feet, staring up at her. As Hillary ate, she eyed the chicken, begging for a bite.

  “Get out of here,” Hillary yelled, “didn’t you already eat my bacon?”

  Storm barked as if responding. She remained firmly planted at Hillary’s foot staring at her chicken.

  Just look at that mutt...your father loves that dog more than he loves you, his own daughter...his own flesh and blood....

  “Hmph,” she said in annoyance, giving the small dog the evil eye.

  Storm barked again, craving attention.

  “Shut up!” Hillary shouted loudly, causing Storm to turn away and whine. As she walked toward the kitchen, Hillary couldn’t help but notice her tail. She stared at it in disgust, the shape of it...the size of it...it looked just like...like...

  It looks like your father’s nasty cock....

  Hillary’s heart raced. Suddenly she felt sick. She raced to the garbage can and threw up. She felt both hot and cold at the same time. It became increasingly harder for her to breathe.

  What’s happening to me, she thought worriedly.

  You know what you have to do, the voice instructed.

  “What?” Hillary answered aloud. She didn’t know why but she was terrified.

  Cut it off...cut off that disgusting replica of your father’s shame....

  “Huh?” Hillary whimpered. She was trembling now. Who was she talking to? Was she losing her mind?

  Unless you want that mangy mutt to stick her tail up your—

  “No...NO!” Hillary shouted, repulsed by the thought. Disturbing imagery flooded her brain and she closed her eyes trying to dislodge the picture from her mind’s eye.

  The dog returned to the living room and stood nearby.

  Get it before it gets you....

  Hillary ran out through the French doors in the family room to the back yard. Storm ran behind her thinking she was playing a game. Hillary stopped at the shed, pulled open the door and grabbed the pruning shears. She held the giant shears in her hand.

  Cut it off...cut that disgusting thing off....

  Hillary walked back to the house, Storm following behind her.

  Do it now, don’t wait...cut it off....

  Hillary turned and stooped down beside Storm. She parted the sharp, curved blades of the shears.

  Storm began licking her hand.

  Cut it off...cut it off...cut it off....

  Hillary could feel her heart beating rapidly in sync with the voice. She reached over and grabbed Storm’s tail. As Storm licked her foot, she positioned the dog’s tail within the blades of the shears. Storm stood still…she had no reason to mistrust Hillary, no reason to expect what was coming. Hillary squeezed the handles together tightly. With one quick snip, Storm’s tail fell to the floor as she yelped loudly in pain. She howled and whimpered as she ran in circles, desperately trying to lick her seeping wound. Blood gushed from her posterior, the spot where her tail had been just seconds ago.

  Hillary stared at the suffering dog in wonder. She couldn’t believe she had just cut off its tail. She looked down at the furry snake-like tail on the floor then at the pruning shears in her hand. There was blood smeared on the blades. Several drops of blood had dripped to the carpeted floor. More blood soaked the carpet below Storm where she continued her futile attempt to lick her bleeding wound. She whimpered and cried, howled, barked and yelped. Hillary watched the small dog until she seemed to grow too weak or dizzy and fell to the floor on her back as if rolling over for a treat. She lay there motionless whimpering steadily.

  Hillary’s daze was disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Her father was first to enter. She could hear him drop his keys on the narrow table in the foyer. She heard her sister complaining about money for the mall and her mother advising her to get a job. Within seconds her family members were in the room with her. She watched as they abruptly halted and stood silent as they processed what they were seeing on the floor.

  The silence was broken by Caleigh’s high-pitched scream.

  “What’s that, Mommy?” Joshua asked, pointing to the dog’s tail.

  Michael made a mournful guttural sound and started sobbing. He ran over to Storm and scooped her into his arms. Kathy stared at the tail in horror until Joshua walked over and tried to pick it up.

  “No!” Kathy shouted, yanking him back so violently he began to cry.

  Caleigh was now crying hysterically as well. She buried her head within her hands and refused to look at the tail.

  Hillary enjoyed the quartet of shrieking misery.

  “What the hell did you do?” Michael shouted angrily to Hillary. Had Storm not been in his arms, he would have lashed out again and hurt her badly.

  Look at him suffering....

  Hillary smiled. It was true; her father was in tears over the dog.

  “Why did you do this? How could you hurt her?” he asked angrily.

  “How could you hurt me?” Hillary replied, her smile fading. “You care more about that damn mutt than you care about me!”

  Kathy had guided Joshua and Caleigh out of the family room and into the kitchen. Hillary could hear her siblings crying while her mother tried to console them.

  “You had no right to hurt my dog,” he shouted.

  “You have no right to hurt me,” Hillary resp
onded curtly.

  “So that’s what this is about? You’re trying to teach me a lesson? I’ll be back to teach you a lesson.”

  Michael rushed off to the bathroom with Storm in his arms. He placed her gently down on the bath rug while he reached for the first aid kit in the medicine cabinet. She whimpered piteously but didn’t move. Michael rummaged through the contents of the first aid kit and used a stack of gauze to cover the wound. It was still bleeding a lot. He wrapped Storm up in a towel and ran out of the house, leaving the front door open. He placed Storm in the back seat and drove off quickly, headed for the animal hospital two towns over.

  Hillary still had the bloodied pruning shears in her hand when her mother approached her after closing the front door. Kathy was shaking as she stepped over the tail and stood in front of Hillary.

  “Why would you do that, Hillary?” she asked in a soft, quivering voice, tears streaking down her face.

  “She’s just a dog,” Hillary answered apathetically.

  “You could have killed her, what would possess you to...to....” Kathy couldn’t bring herself to speak about what Hillary had done. She broke down and sobbed loudly.

  “I think you need help,” she said between sobs, “you need help,” she repeated sadly.

  “I asked for help...remember?” Hillary replied as she glared at her mother with eyes full rage and hatred. They were dark and stormy. Kathy thought she saw Michael within them; they were just as manic, just as feral as his eyes became when he grew incensed and violent. Seeing the pruning shears still in Hillary’s hand, Kathy took a step back. Would Hillary try to hurt her too?

  “I said I asked for help,” she repeated loudly, “don’t you have anything to say to that? Can you hear me?”

  “I...I...I don’t know what you want me to say,” Kathy said nervously, “I want to help you, Hillary. I want things to be better.”

  “Then make him stop,” Hillary said bitterly.

  Kathy shook her head.

  “It’s not true...please, please stop saying those things about your father,” she cried.

  “Listen to me!” Hillary shouted, taking a step forward toward her mother. “He touches me. He hurts me. He rapes me!”

  “Stop it Hillary, shut up, just shut up!” Kathy shouted back, cupping her ears and turning to leave.

  “Why won’t you help me, Mom?” Hillary pleaded sadly as she watched her mother leave the room.

  Make her suffer...she doesn’t want to help you...she can’t hear you....

  Anger replaced Hillary’s sorrow. She followed her mother into the kitchen. Caleigh screamed when she saw her, which upset Joshua even more and made him start crying hysterically again.

  “I’ll make you listen,” Hillary yelled, “you’ll hear me one day!”

  With the shears still in her hand, she ran upstairs to her room. She threw the bloody shears to the floor, kicked it under her bed then crawled into bed. She pulled the covers over her head and closed her eyes. Her head was vibrating. It felt like a thousand bees had flown in there somehow and were buzzing madly. Even lying down on her bed didn’t alleviate her dizziness.

  They’ll all pay...they’ll all suffer....

  “How?” Hillary whispered to herself.

  The voice did not answer. Hillary waited for it to advise her, but it was silent. Instead, Hillary thought about what she had done. It didn’t feel as though she had actually done it. She remembered everything, she knew her hands held the shears and did, in fact, snip off the dog’s tail. Yet, it was as though she was a robot being controlled remotely by someone else. She had loved Storm once. They always used to take long walks in the woods together. The family had owned her for nearly four years, since she was a small puppy.

  Yet, Hillary felt no remorse, no sadness for the dog. She thought about how she felt seeing the horror on the faces of her family members. A thin smile formed on her face. It was better than applause for a job well done. It was better than recognition for a good deed. It was more significant than anything Hillary had ever done in her entire life. Her fleeting moments of triumph paled in comparison. Who would remember or even care that she had won the science fair in sixth grade or earned a medal for her essay on global warming? But this...this act of atrocity, who could forget it? Even Joshua, at his young, tender age, was likely traumatized enough by it to retain the memory when all other wonderful memories he had of playing, running at the park and visits to the zoo would be stripped from his mind.

  Hillary’s smile widened. She knew that somehow she had managed to change history, to alter their lives drastically. However things were meant to transpire prior to that moment, things would now be different. Hillary had manipulated the grand scheme of the cosmos. She had deceived fate itself. It was an exhilarating feeling, especially for someone who had felt so pathetically weak and insignificant. She had been reborn and today was her birthday. She was now strong and worthy of the respect she had long been denied. She was a new person and she would never again let anyone hurt her or make her feel so worthless.

  Hillary thought about her father’s threat to teach her a lesson when he returned. What was he planning to do, she wondered. Her face contorted as she imagined him trying to rape her, trying to hurt her.

  Never again....

  “Never again,” she repeated softly, “thank you, my friend.”

  She had listened to the voice of reason and it had restored her confidence. She felt invincible.

  Let him come, let him try to do anything to me, she thought.

  Hillary was ignored for the remainder of the day. Her sister was too freaked out by what she had done to go near her. Likewise, her mother avoided her like the plague. She didn’t even prepare lunch for her or invite her to sit with the family for dinner. It was as if she was afraid of her. When Hillary had gone to the kitchen just after three in the afternoon to get something to eat, Kathy rushed from the room without making eye contact. Hillary didn’t mind. She had finally found a way to be left alone.

  Her father spent the entire afternoon at the animal hospital. He had made up a story about a wild animal from the woods biting off Storm’s tail. The veterinarian didn’t believe it for a second. She could clearly see that the tail had been severed by a sharp blade. It left a neat, clean cut.

  Storm had lost a great deal of blood. The veterinarian rushed her into one of the rooms and immediately started a blood transfusion. She treated her wound and placed her on antibiotics. After Storm’s condition was stabilized, the veterinarian called Michael into her office. He was visibly upset, nearly hysterical, and the only way she could calm him down was to promise that Storm would make a full recovery. She was reluctant to do so, though, since there was always a risk of infection.

  “So, did you see this wild animal?” she questioned suspiciously.

  “Uh, no...but what else could have happened?”

  “It looks like she’s been abused...like someone cut her tail off on purpose.”

  “Why on earth would anyone do that?”

  “What happened, Mr. Greyson? Who did this to her?”

  “What are you saying?” he replied defensively.

  “I’m saying this dog has been abused,” she answered abrasively, her voice raised.

  “That’s not true,” Michael argued, “I love my dog.”

  He did seem very upset, the veterinarian noted, but there was no doubt in her mind that the dog had been intentionally hurt. The only question was, by whom?

  “If you love her, you wouldn’t let this happen.”

  “Are you serious? You think I let this happen? I would never let anyone hurt my dog!”

  “Where was she when this happened?”

  After a slight pause, Michael said “in the woods.”

  “Uh-huh...and where were you?”

  “At church. I came home from church to find her like that. Ask anyone at the ten o’clock mass at St. Joseph’s...I was there with my family.”

  “Mr. Greyson, I don’t think you did this t
o Storm, clearly you love your dog. But if you know who did this, you need to speak up…you need to turn that person in to the authorities. Only a cruel, sick person would do such a thing.”

  Mr. Greyson was speechless. He didn’t know how to respond. The veterinarian could tell that he was hiding something.

  “Who is it?” she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.

  Michael shook his head furiously.

  “I just want to take my dog and go home,” he said anxiously.

  The veterinarian shook her head slowly.

  “Storm is not out of the woods yet, Mr. Greyson. She needs to stay here for observation.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until I can be certain that they’ll be no risk to her from her injury...probably just a few days.”

  “I don’t really want to leave her....”

  “You know, based on her injuries, I could report you to the humane society,” the veterinarian said, holding up her hand when Michael started protesting. “But I can see that you truly do care about your dog and I know you want what’s best for her. That includes leaving her here to ensure her health.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” she interrupted, “you don’t question my professional judgment and I won’t question your ability to care for Storm.”

  Reluctantly, Michael nodded. What else could he do? He truly did love Storm and want her to get the care that she needed. For a while he thought for sure that she would die. He had sobbed like a child all the way to the animal hospital. A few days without her would be a whole lot better than a lifetime without her. Besides, he didn’t need an investigation to uncover what really happened to her.

  “I really appreciate your help, doctor.”

  Michael reached out his hand and the veterinarian shook it as she nodded.

  “She’ll be okay, Mr. Greyson, you did the right thing bringing her to me when you did.”

  By the end of his one hour ride home, Michael was blinded by rage. He would make Hillary suffer for what she did. She had to be put back in her place. He was in charge...he was the boss. She needed to be reminded that he owned her, that she was under his control.