BILLIE'S NIGHTMARE

Chapter 21

After my shower, I went back to my room and didn't even bother wearing clothes and I bent down beside my bed to pray. I had been to and exorcism and that night, I forgot to pray when I got home. I forgot to wash my hands with clear water and read from the bible before I slept. I forgot to cleanse myself through prayer. I kneeled at my bedside and I closed my eyes, but the mere thought of uttering a prayer felt disgusting. It felt displeasing, like doing it would tear my flesh off my bones.

I stood up abruptly, clutching the towel around my chest and running a hand through my hair. Tears started to well up in my eyes and I slowly shook my head.

I forgot how to pray. I know to close my eyes and speak to God, but I simply cannot. Something is pulling me away.

"Elizabeth." I turn around and Erica is at my door, a duster in her hand. I stand up, clutching the towel wrapped around my chest tighter. "Your mother wants you to get ready quickly. James will be here in an hour." she informs me, making me nod and smile.

"Thank you." I said and she left, giving me room to get ready.

I looked over at my mother from across the table, gracefully sipping her cup of tea with a biscuit in her other hand, occasionally dipping it into the beverage.

"Mother, I..." I started, but couldn't help but swallow hard at the tears threatening to come out. I hated it. Hated crying like a weakling for every little thing.

My mother looked up at me, prompting me to continue.

"James...he uhm..." I bit my lip. "He got kind of aggressive the other night with me and-"

"Why would he get aggressive?" my mother suddenly asked. "What did you do?"

"Wh-I-Nothing, I..." I stopped. What do I tell her? How do I even begin to when it would simply lead to being punished. "I just feel like he shouldn't be allowed to do that to me regardless of the circumstances-"

"Elizabeth, James is a man. He craves authority and dominion. If you give him none, he will make ways to take it." She lifted her eyebrows as if asking if I understand. I shook my head in response, a tear involuntarily running down my cheek. She turned her attention back to her tea when I just stared at her in awe, and she took another biscuit from the saucer and dipped it in her tea.

"Has dad ever slapped you?" I asked, making her dart her head towards me.

"What does it matter?" she asked. I sensed a tinge of defensiveness.

"Please answer my question honestly and I'll let this go. Has dad ever slapped you?" I repeated my question a bit more sternly, demanding an answer.

My mother stirred her biscuit around in her tea and shrugged. "I never gave him reason to."

The answer itself made my heart drop. Never. He never hit her. Never layed a hand on her that harshly. Throughout all their years of marriage, he never got that mad at her.

I stood up, my chair screeching as I did. Just as I did, there was a knock on the door.

"Stay here. That must be James." my mother said, gesturing me to sit. As I did, James entered with Sarah leading him in, pointing to the kitchen where we sat.

We exchanged greetings and James excused us to my room. My mother nods and James grabs my hand and leads us upstairs. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to turn around and take my car and run away forever, never returning even if I needed to the most. But I couldn't. I let him drag me upstairs, moving fast as if impatient for something. I prepared myself for another fit about why I didn't reply to his calls and how much he misses me, how me ignoring him is "torture". Someone should acquaint James with personal space