Rachel – Part 1

What was one meant to do when they caught the person they loved cheating on them with the person they thought was family? Was one meant to cry? Lash out? Or simply stand and digest the image before them? Well, when I found myself watching my husband and sister make passionate love together, I found myself contemplating which of the three options I was meant to do.

At first I was sure I was going to break down and cry. I mean, after seeing the husband you devoted nine years of your life to, make love to your sister who you’ve known for the whole of your life – and good sex may I add – of course breaking down seemed to be the right thing to do. But before the tears had found a way to the surface, anger managed to find its way there first.

I’d trusted them both and this was how they repaid me? By going behind my back and abusing my love for them both. The sight made me furious and the more angry I found myself, the faster I wanted to jump in that bed and rip them both apart. But, eventually I realised that the muscles in my body didn’t have the energy or will to move. Even though I was boiling with unmeasurable anger, my muscles didn’t lunge me forward as I thought they would. Instead, I stood rooted. In my spot, just watching how my husband and sister made love.

To be totally honest, the way he moved around her body, made me realise it wasn’t his first time of roaming her. He’d been there before and the way she reacted to his touch, arched her back to his foreseeable action was another reminder that they had performed this more than once.

They wasn’t aware of my presence. It was a party, a crowded one at that. He’d snuck off a while ago, telling me he had to make a business call. I mingled for an hour or so, but it was then I realised how long he had been gone. So like any cliched scenario, I went looking for him. I checked everywhere. The house where the party was hosted at was absolutely huge, it was almost too ridiculous to be true. The owners were swimming in cash and that was all because of the investments and deals they’d worked upon previously that turned out to be a success for them. My husband (who was now passionately kissing my sister) had worked for them and was invited to the party. Along with my sister, who currently works for them, was also invited. So I was the tag along in that sense.

Anyway, after looking for my husband for almost 15 minutes, I stumbled across a room down a hallway. It seemed occupied, and with the amount of guests in the house, I wasn’t surprised one of the many rooms would be vacant by some horny men and women. But my curiosity got over me, and I just wanted to be sure it was no-one I knew who was being a little naughty in a billionaires house. But to my surprise it was my husband and sister.

So what is my next move you’re wondering? It was simply shutting the door. I know it sounded ridiculous, but I guess it was too fictional for me to believe what I’d just seen was true. I knew I was going to catch somebody misbehaving, I just didn’t know it’d be at my own expense. I crept back down the stairs, mind blank and hands shaking. Was I angry? Was I sad? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. In a couple of seconds my whole equilibrium had smashed and I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go.

I decided leaving would be best. Get a taxi home and consider what to do next in regards of my husband and us living together. But in my daze I managed to bump into Damion. One of the hosts to tonight’s party. He gave me a sweet smile and it was then things rushed back to me. Pieces to the puzzle that I couldn’t put together seemed to slam into their places. Emotions that I couldn’t quite understand, began overflowing in my mind. With a everything so clear in my mind, the images of Craig sleeping with Camila, flashed in my mind causing the tears I was so sure had disappeared, reappear right in front of Damion.

“Are you okay Rachel?” I was considering how to respond to his question, but with more tears threatening to pour even more, I decided causing a scene was not in my nature. So I gently pushed passed him and rushed for the exit, hoping no-one else noticed the mascara run down my face.

Out in the cold, I began walking towards the gates that lead onto the streets. In hope I’d find a taxi and make my way home. People were drunk and laughing in groups near the exit, and being seen was the last thing I wanted, so I rushed passed the laughing and flirting before anyone had noticed Craig’s wife leaving without him. I managed to get to the gate without any questions about why I was crying, when I felt a firm hand clasp my shoulder. Turning around, I was met by Damion’s stare. Concern veiled his eyes and I could sense his worry grow the more he analysed me.

“What’s wrong Rachel?” I attempted to shuffle out of his grip, but failed as he made sure I didn’t run off from him again. “What’s happened? Why do you keep trying to run from me?”

“Don’t worry Damion.”

“Where’s Craig? Shouldn’t he be helping you?” The sound of his name made me wince physically and emotionally. I wasn’t able to hide the pain that came along with his name. Damion noticed my reaction and looked at me deeply.

“Please let me go Damion.”

“What did he do Rachel?” With my lip trembling, I knew I didn’t have the strength to bring myself to say what Craig had done to me and the nine years of my life that I’d given to him. Instead, I found myself crying harder than I had previously. Damion drew me to his chest, allowing me to cry on him whilst he soothed me rubbing my back and stroking my hair.

I didn’t know Damion as well as I knew his brother Chase. I’d gone to a number of conventions and events with Craig hosted by both Damion and Chase, but it always seemed to be Chase I spoke with. Whilst Damion conversed with the big shots. So having him hold me and soothe me in my time of need was more than a surprise to me. He gave me the chance to collect my emotions before raising my head from his chest, which was now damp with my tears.

“I’m sorry Damion, I’ve ruined your suit.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine. What’s wrong Rachel?”

“I don’t want to talk about it Damion.”

“But –”

“Please Damion, I just want to go home.” If home was what I could even call it now.

“Fine, let me take you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.” It was bad enough I’d cried on this man’s chest who I barely knew, but for him to leave his own party to drive me home was more than enough.

“But I will.” And with that he grabbed my hand and took me to one of his cars. The driver had stepped out to let us both in the back and then closed the door for us. In silence, I stared out the window too confused to comprehend what I’d just gotten myself into, but almost 100% sure the next wave of tears wasn’t too far from the surface.

© All Rights Reserved by Sarah E. Balogun

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HER

She’s dead…

I didn’t mean for her to die, it was an argument – an argument that didn’t stop. She kept going on about Eleanor, kept reminding me how imperfect I was, how my mistakes were unforgivable. What was I meant to do, I screamed my protests, told her it was enough. How many times must one hear they have made mistakes, let alone accept them? But she didn’t stop, instead she kept pushing. Pushing every button I told her, throughout our five year relationship, never to press. And tonight she pressed every single button. So I grabbed the nearest object beside me and hit her on the head. Once and then a few more times after that.

I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing until it was done. Now by my feet lays here limp lifeless body – another mistake staring me boldly in the face. How many more wrongs must I do, before I start to do right? I couldn’t process what was going on in front of me, don’t get me wrong, I knew she was dead, but what was I meant to do now? Was I meant to call the ambulance and turn myself in? Or was I meant to lie and say I found her like this? Either option had the same outcome, that being my life coming to an end. But I couldn’t drag her out into the backyard and dig a hole like in the films, which they make it look so easy to do. Not only was that ridiculous, but it was raining and I wasn’t a murderer, I hadn’t planned for this, so I was bound to get this wrong.

Instead I sat beside her lifeless body and held her hand. Stroking her hair just the way I knew she liked it and sang to her. Sang until my voice grew hoarse, and then I just watched. Watched her watch me. She was everything to me. She was the energy that made me wake up every morning, the reason I tried to become something.

After my family had abandoned me, Savannah took me under her wing, made me a home when there was only bricks in my hands. And look how I’d repaid her. After laying there for what felt like more than a few hours, I stood up and washed my hands. Had to get rid of the blood, the mistakes and every other failure I’ve managed to conjure up in my life. Then I went to the bathroom, unsure of what to do next, but aware something had to be done. The person staring back at me wasn’t the normal face I’d recognised. My hair was tangled and clumped, caused from where we’d had our argument. My skin paled ever so slightly, probably due to seeing a dead body for the first time and then for the fact it was my hands that had been the reason why the body laid there in the first place. The dark rings under my eyes had grown, they were always there, but for some reason, tonight it’d grown – maybe because I was tired, or because I my body knew after tonight I wasn’t going to get sleep for a long time.

But what shocked me the most was my lips. And how they’d curved into a weird shape, baring some of my front teeth. I hadn’t seen this look before and I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. But, it appeared that the person staring back at me through the mirror was smiling, a grim, sinister smile. She looked hungry, hungry for more of whatever had just quenched her desire… I didn’t like the person staring back at me – I didn’t even know she existed until now.