Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Forty-Seven

Forty-Seven

I was rendered speechless at the scene before me. My knees buckled. My cheeks were wet. I staggered into the wall, gasping for air. Susanna’s pain was my pain. Her screams became more crucifying at every blow, each leaving their own unforgettable memory. A diagonal swipe from her left collarbone across her dress left ruby rivers soaking her skin.

Smack, sob, whimper and gasp blended into a horrifying mess in my mind. I was shaking, face flushed. My eyes darted across the landing, and I saw Mary and Emma standing there. They had done nothing? Then I saw Emma’s trembling fingers, matted hair, and the wounds slashed across Mary’s face and chest.

“Mother,” I whispered, mouth dry. They both stepped away regretfully.

*****

I don’t know how I got the courage. Maybe seeing Mother covered all over in blood, shedding silent tears, her nightgown torn open did it. Her face and arms were black and blue. I walked into the doorway of my room.

Susanna’s expression changed to one of relief and panic. Father pivoted slowly, still wielding the serrated-edged instrument of torture in his hand.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” I could barely breathe; it was if all the oxygen in the world had been sucked away down a pipe. Father’s arm dropped. Susanna slid down the wall, sobbing silently. I swayed, not knowing whether or not I would be his next victim. He pulled up his trousers. I pressed my hand to my mouth, queasiness turning my stomach over. He had raped them too.

I froze as he moved towards me. I felt the blade digging into my throat. I looked into his eyes, trying to defy him.

“I could kill you, Elsie.”

“Go on then, kill me, the Kingston Heiress.” I said through gritted teeth. He removed the blade with a single swipe. I clutched my neck, trying not to scream as the pain tore at me.

“It’s more fun watching the emotional pain kill you inside, watching you toss and turn at night as the Zeppelins fly, fly, fly towards you.” I gave a little whimper, knees buckling, crimson slipping through my fingers. How did he know about my nightmares? He laughed cruelly, doing up his tie and waistcoat. He whistled, checking his pocket watch, and then he strode out the room with his hands in his pockets, not a care in the world.

Only when I heard the squeal of the Chevrolet’s tyres outside did I crouch down beside Susanna, knowing this was all my fault.

*****

It was Emma who decided to do something. She found a soft flannel, a bowl of water, and dabbed at all of our wounds. It infuriated me a little that she had come away without a bandage wrapped around her arm, but I knew that even Emma would suffer from the emotional pain. They were all alive. That’s what mattered most to me.

No-one spoke a word. I fetched clean clothes, and helped Susanna pack her bag. She couldn’t stay now. It would be selfish to say I didn’t want her to go, but it was like losing a part of me. All I could whisper was ‘I’m so, so sorry’ over and over. She just shook her head. I tried to hug her. Her arms fell limp.

Mother gave her a purse and a good character reference. It was more than what she owed her.

“Are you sure you’re alright to go out in this state?” she croaked. Susanna gave her shoulders a little jerk.

“Go to Bobby’s, Susanna. Eliza is a wonderful nurse.” I cried.

“She would be if she wasn’t busy mourning for her husband,” she snapped. She pressed her hand to her mouth; we both knew what she was implying. Fresh floods came out of my red-rimmed eyes. She closed her eyes and then turned on her heel. All I could do was watch her walk out of the gate as I fell to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She blamed me, I knew it, in my heart, and I had lost the person I loved so much.

*****

None of us slept that night. I couldn’t believe Emma was staying, after what she had witnessed her employer do. We stayed up around the kitchen table drinking endless cups of hot cocoa, listening to the clock ticking, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t stand the tension or my confused emotions or my stinging neck. Finally, I understood how John felt; like he wanted to destroy everything, to try and take the hurt away. To lash out and scream and feel your fingers curl with hatred, such pure hatred.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I was responsible; Father had said he would avenge me. He was evil enough to attack and rape his own family and servants. What kind of man was he?

“Don’t be.” Emma sounded harsh and soft at the same time. Mother cleared her throat. I hated looking at her, I hated seeing her face all swollen up.

“It was my fault, Elsie, sweetheart. He… he…found my diary.” Mary glared at her with such contempt, nostrils flaring. My chest tightened. What awful thing had she written about for Father to attack us like this?

“What did you write in it?” I whispered. Mother shook her head, face crumpling.

“It was in the aftermath of my sister’s death. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I was just a silly girl looking for love. I… I… had… incest. So he…he…did the… same t-t-to” I let out a gasp, pressing my hands to my mouth, looking from Mary to Mother in horror. And then I looked at Mother’s stomach.