SHUT DOWN | JENLISA

37

Jennie

"Thank you, Beth. We'll be right there." I said sweetly.

I stared at her for a few minutes and tried to figure out if her question was sincere or not. Was she curious, or did she want to know so she could use it against me? I stepped back and placed the knife back in its sheath.

"Shall we?" She asked.

"Yes."

We ate dinner quietly, but it wasn't terse. Lisa ate and looked around; my house was obviously very interesting to her in some manner. We sat at separate ends of the table, and it wasn't for safety but for us to both observe each other.

It was clear that we didn't trust each other, yet she was here. In my house, at my table, having dinner with me. I had a reason not to trust anyone. I'd been deceived a few times and had a rough childhood that led me to be who I am.

What was her reason? She went to a normal high school and college, had a nice and sweet family in Oregon, and was now living in downtown New York alone. She wasn't married, and it wasn't surprising at her age. Most people at her age were still looking and seeing what was out there. After dinner, we washed up, and I poured some wine. We sat in the living room on the carpet next to each other.

"Have you lived with your parents your whole life?" I asked.

"Until I was nineteen."

"Are you close with them, Lisa?"

"Yes, but I don't get to see them as much as I want to."

"Are you close with your mother and father's side of the family?"

"My mother was an only child, and my grandparents passed away years ago. I'm closer to my father's side."

I nodded my head. "Do you have any cousins?"

She chuckled and leaned over to set the wine glass down on the table. "If we're playing 21 questions, surely it's my turn?"

"We're not. I'm merely curious."

"I have four cousins. Three boys and one girl."

"Are you close with them?"

Her brows pinched together, and she looked at me for a moment before answering. "We're friends, but everyone has their own life."

"Are your girl cousins younger than you?"

"Yes, by a few years. Should I draw out a family tree for you?" She joked, but her laughter faded when she saw how serious I looked.

"I have cousins as well. Twin boys." I started. "I was eleven when I had to move in with my uncle and his family. They were sixteen years old. They didn't touch me, but they'd purposely walk in on me when I showered or walk into my bedroom at night when I was changing. They'd watch me. I told my uncle, and do you know what he told me? That his sons were good Christian kids and that it was my fault for leading them into temptation. I was eleven. I was in that good Christian household for seven years. I got good at hiding and even better at barricading the doors to the bathroom or my bedroom. The way they'd watch me... sometimes I can still feel them on me. A therapist would tell you that the over-sexualization of me at such a young age is probably why I became a stripper. It's not. I became a stripper because I could, because it was my choice, and because I was taking back my strength as a woman. Men always look, always want more than what they can have, and behave like barbarians. Yet the women folk are blamed. I cuff every person that I sleep with because the animal in them needs to be restrained. They can't help it, Lisa. It's inside them, even you. My own cousins, my own flesh and blood, would have raped me if I hadn't gathered my strength and determination to run away."

I was calm as I spoke, and I didn't cry. No, I refused to cry. Lisa wanted an explanation, and usually, I didn't care for what people wanted, but Lisa felt different. I lived my childhood in fear of something traumatic happening to me.

I was able to leave, to run away by the skin of my teeth. She didn't speak, nor did she comfort me. She just sat next to me with a pained expression. Was she pained because she knew this secret? Or was she pained because she knew she could use it to her advantage?

I wouldn't know until it came back to me. I wouldn't know until it was too late. Her jaw clenched, and I saw her hands ball into fists on her thighs.

"They didn't touch you." She stated, wanting to confirm it.

"No."

"Are they still alive?"

I blinked up at her. I don't know if I expected such a response. "Yes, they are."

"Not for long." She ground out.

I smiled sadly and placed my hand over hers. I felt her body visibly relax underneath my touch.

"You're not that type of person, Lisa. I think deep down you want to be, to be able to pull the law into your hands and do as you wish, but you can't. You're a good person."

She tensed up for a brief second. "You don't know me well enough to say that."

I shrugged. "Maybe, but I've been around people for so long that I have this sixth sense. Every word you say, every smile you give me, every expression you paint so evidently in your eyes and face, it tells me all I need to know about you and more. You're a person that respects the law. A person that believes in a moral compass."

"If I'm such a good person, Jennie, tell me why am I here with you?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still trying to figure that out."