I felt as an unused portal of purpose. I was then given a glimpse of a raging sea, and torments of a great storm as it unleashed great waves crashing against a shoreline tomb. Cracks appeared in its foundation and an urgent need to escape its confines became immanent.“We’re home, Annie.” A long awaited smile now brightened his deeply anguished face. I accepted his warm hand as he helps me to the tall white door of this house. Warm air spills onto me as I step inside. He follows closely behind, closing the door to shut out the chill of Baltimore. I’m greeted by a small crackling fire to my right in a small cooking area. The air is heavy with the scent of burning oak. I feel him lightly touching my shoulders under this tattered woolen cloak I have draped on me. He slowly removes it and drops it to the floor. His breath quickens into wisps of the name, “Annie,” as he repeats it begging for my console. ” Please Annie, turn to me in this hour of need.” He quietly beckons to me. And I obey. She pushed my head forward, brushing the back of my long brown hair. It felt good and comforting. The brush was replaced by her fingers, massaging my scalp.“You do trust me, don’t you?” she questioned. I could feel her hands on my flesh, kneading my shoulders and neck, easing my muscles. “I’m not sure you do Jenny,” she paused, waiting for a reply, that didn’t come, “if you don’t, then I need to make you.” The pungent smell of stale sex emanated behind me from between her legs, reminding me of him.Was she playing a game, this woman that I’d fallen for? Was she toying with me? Her fingers dug deep into the muscle tissues, making me whimper. Her other hand lightly running up my spine. I was desperate to turn and face her. Is that what she wanted? My phone on the dressing table rang. Saved by the bell. I rushed to answer, and it was Mum asking if I could help with the Sunday lunchtime service. I watched Emma walk towards me. She reached past me and opened the top draw on my dresser. Not.
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