Reaping of the Wives

WE RISE

My face felt stiff from the salt that had dried upon my skin once the tears had subsided. I laid face down on my mattress, staring up at the useless vent across the room. My arm hung limply over the edge and my fingertips rested upon the cool tiles. I half wondered if laying on them would make my bottom and thighs feel better, but I couldn't bring myself to move. The only thing I had managed to do was fold my nightgown up well above my waist; even the soft, well-worn cotton felt like sand paper against my skin.

I kept replaying bits and pieces of what happened between Noah and I over and over again, and all I could feel was so dreadfully angry at myself.

Mom used to always say, You can't kick a hornet's nest and not expect to get stung. 

I had stomped all over the nest that was Noah, and he reacted just as any creature like him would. I shouldn't have been surprised. I shouldn't have assumed differently from him.

Dad used to always say, If someone shows you their true colors, don't try to repaint them. 

I had spent the last three months playing the role of a submissive piece of trash and all it took was that one bit of information dangling in front of me to undo the image I had created. All because I had let myself believe I wouldn't get stung. Because I believed I had repainted Noah.

The longer I laid there, unable to move without feeling the sting of his pain, the more furious I became at how stupid I was. How easily I let myself forget that no matter what colors I use, I cannot paint over black.

"Are you alright, Grace?"

Ava's voice pulled me from my thoughts and the pitch of it settled like a sickness in my conscience. "Yeah," I lied, as one would to a child. "You?"

I couldn't ignore the way she took a shallow breath before answering yes. None of us were actually alright. We were alive in the way of our hearts still beat and our lungs still filled with oxygen; but in truth, we were dying. 

"Sissy," she called out to Camilla, "You good?"

"Oh, I'm good, Aves. I'm good."

There was something in her tone that made my ears perk. Like an animal that's been on the prowl and finally heard the faintest rustle of a leaf, indicating the chase was closer than expected.

"Cami, are you going to bed early?" I inquired.

It was our way of asking the other to stay up after Ava fell asleep so we could talk about things. Things we wanted her to have plausible deniability about if confronted. Things no child should hear, even if they were already in the clutches of depravity.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah," I faked a yawn. "I think we all should. It's been a hell of a day."

There was a clear smile in Ava's voice as she piped in, "I can't say I didn't entirely hate today. Hearing you, Grace... gosh that even made me feel empowered. Sorry for you, but empowered."

I laughed and winced when the shake of my body made my lower half burn. "Yeah, well, I certainly wouldn't recommend you doing that, Ava. Please don't. Ever. Okay?"

"Okay," she sighed. She knew very well how Camilla and I felt about her putting up any kind of fight.

I closed my eyes for a moment and felt myself sinking further into the mattress. The day's events were tiring. I felt a bone deep exhaustion and all I wanted was to slip into a pain free oblivion. I don't know how long it took, but I was almost asleep when Cami's voice jerked me back from the brink of slumber.

"You still up, Ava?"

When silence was the only reply, I whispered lowly, "What are you planning, Camilla?"