I gasped when he turned us, pressing us against the hard wall and wrapped my leg around his waist. His body began grinding against mine, our tongues clashing in a fierce battle for dominance and submission. He won, of course.
When it came to Aaron...
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"What does the cow say?" I let finger run over the page until it found the black and white splattered animal.
"Moo!" Anastasia sang louder than she did before. Quickly, I clasped my hand around her tiny mouth as the strict nurse pressed her face against the tiny glass panel and shook her head.
Shit. She said if we do it again then she'll kick us out. I doubt she has that authority but I heard the woman served in the army, and a military woman is not someone you mess with.
"Quieter baby," She nodded, and as I slowly removed my hand, tiny giggles burst out of her mouth. "Let's do the chicken next,"
I'd took it upon myself to deliver an adequate nursery lesson for Stasia everyday. It wasn't the same of course, but I couldn't risk taking her back there, especially with Mikhail still out plotting his revenge.
Despite every resource we had, it was all worthless. Mikhail wasn't like any of the others, he was skilled and calculated and smart. He was probably in hiding somewhere, plotting his next move.
Still then, Caitlin not Anastasia were leaving the safe confines of our home, or me. Unlike Anastasia, Caitlin wasn't too happy about staying home but I got her a tutor and told her that her friends could visit as often as they would like.
Right now, she was probably in history at the mansions.
"I'm tired." She groaned, rubbing her eyes sleepily as they blinked shut. Her English had gotten better these past months, and it hurt because I knew how much Aaron would want to hear it.
Three months, one week and two days, to be exact, was how long Aaron had been in this coma. The doctors gave me all the pamphlets, the serious talks on how he may never wake up and turning off his life support could be the best thing for him.
Yet, I still had hope. A small light fleck somewhere inside the darkness of my soul. I wasn't letting him go until all of it was gone.
I set Anastasia down in the small portable cot I had moved in here. Her eyes fell shut, and soft snores arose to fill the silence quickly. She was up all night, again.
The cuts have to be dressed freshly every night with this special cream and tight bandages. They itch though, and she screams, and cries because there's nothing she can do to stop it. I cry too, because there's nothing I can do either.
So, we stay up and watch cartoons eat cookies until she eventually falls asleep or it's morning so I can take the bandages off.
Apparently they're healing well, that's all really matters. Right? Fuck, I used to be a single mum and I'd forgotten how hard it was. Not just physically but emotionally. Aaron was always my shoulder to cry on, and when he isn't there I feel lost.
I take a moment to sprawl out on the leather arm chair. It's directed straight at the bed, so I can see him, watch him, stay alert for anything...a sign that he's here, listening.
