10. CHAPTER 10
T he day he banished me, the storm never came.
It's snowed a little each night since, but nothing substantial. I leave the bowl, pot, and bucket out, and by morning there's enough water to get me through the day. And so far, the wood I brought in when I got that first match, has been enough.
I’m doing fine.
I can keep going.
I’m bored out of my mind, but I’ll get through this…
Finding time to sneak out has been the hardest part.
The shack's window doesn't face the main cabin, so I have to push against a board by the door to make a gap big enough to see out of, but it gives me a perfect view right into the living area.
Eden always sits in the same spot on the sofa, so every morning after he clears the snow off the solar panels, I watch as he walks through to the bathroom, and that's when I leave.
That's when I explore.
I've spent so much time in the forest alone that I'm noticing all the things that were always there but I was too preoccupied to notice the first time around. Like how each species of tree has a distinct color of trunk, and how their barks feel different as I run my hands over them. Then there’s the knots and the tiny holes; which are little homes, and which are yet to be claimed.
I’m doing fine.
I can keep going.
I’m constantly wracked by hunger pains, but I’ll get through this…
I only have two packets of ramen left.
A few mouthfuls for breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all I've been living on. I’ve had the tub of gochujang and the perilla oil sitting by the stove for days, and I keep staring at it like it will magically transform itself into my Halmae’s Dakgalbi.
"Screw it,” I say to myself and sit up on my cot. The sun has already started rising, but I've never seen Eden up this early. So if I'm going to make a move, it needs to be now.
The shack door creaks as I open it, and I immediately crouch down.
When it's brighter, I can see half of the loft from here, but it's still too dark, so I just make a run for it.
Pressed up against the back of the cabin, I count to one hundred before moving, then creep to the back window.
From here I can see Eden's feet sticking out from under his quilt.
I count to one hundred once more while watching to see if he stirs, and when he doesn't, I sneak around the far side of the cabin and to his truck.
I know there's a sack of something in the back, and whatever it is, I need it.
Lifting the cover just enough to grab onto the topper handle, I close my eyes, and wince as I pull on it—but nothing happens. I try again, but the harder I pull, the more noise I make.
I kick the grass, and scream in silence with everything I have.
I ball my hands and squeeze my fists so tight they sting.
I want to cry out for real.
I want to bang on the cabin door, wake Eden up, and punch him so hard half his face will be swollen and bruised like mine, because I’ve always done as I was told.
I've always walked the straight and narrow and spent years existing in a weird purgatory, never really knowing who I am or where I belong. So when does the karma come back to me?
With anger surging through me, I march towards the porch.
Holding my breath, I turn the screen door handle.
At first the hinges squeak, but I open it so slowly it doesn’t make another sound.
After closing it with just as much care, I creep towards the front door and look through the small gap in the curtains that cover its four-panel glass window.
Eden is still in bed, though not in the same position.
But right now, he can get fucked. As long as he’s up there and I’ve come this far, I won't be leaving empty handed.
Moving to the left side of the porch, I gently lift the bench lid of the long storage box.
Carrots, and two kinds of potatoes.
If I take one, he won’t notice.
The carrots are huge, and I figure that with their shape it will be the least obvious if one is missing. So I take one from the top, being sure not to move the sack. With it in the front pocket of my hoodie, I start closing the bench when I realize my eyes haven't left the bag of potatoes.
The starch…
How well they soak up gochujang…
Only the good die young.
I snatch two and shove them into the pockets of Tek's jacket.
I stay crouched on the porch for far longer than I should. I know it makes no sense. I know he'll skin me alive if he finds out what I've taken. But as long as I stay still and quiet, I can pretend like I've already gotten away with it.
When I’ve finally built up the courage, I stand, and step as lightly as I can to the screen door. I’m like a cat, completely silent—
“Aww, fuck…”
A low, gravelly moan comes from inside the cabin, and I freeze.
I need to move.
All I have to do is take the handle, turn it, and walk.
But I can’t.
No matter how hard my brain is screaming at me to turn around, my body is slinking back to the front door.
There’s another moan. “Fuck, you look good like that.” And I know what I’m going to see before I even look.
He’s not covered by the quilt anymore.
His body, all of it, is bare to the warmth inside the cabin.
One hand is resting behind his head while the other pumps slowly, like he’s trying his hardest not to finish too quickly.
I know I should feel ashamed watching him, just like I know I shouldn’t wish I was closer.
Or that the banister wasn’t blocking my view.
But I don't. I want to see how his hand moves. How tight he grips. How hairy he is. I want to know how far down his tattoos go. And, damn it, I want to know why I’m hard too.
I know I could get caught any second. I’m not even trying to hide, but maybe that’s what I want. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t leave right away; I was meant to see this. I was meant to feel this way. I was meant to know what desire actually feels like.
I’m holding onto so much hatred for him, but it only makes me breathe faster.
Eden bends one of his legs and starts bucking up into his fist.
He’s so strong, so muscular.
His voice is so low and unapologetic, like he wants me to hear him. Like he’s imagining me in my sleeping bag, desperate for him, knowing I won’t resist touching myself because I already am.
No girl has ever made me hard—not from a distance. If they grinded on me enough, sure. But I never wanted them to see all of me.
I want to feel the shame of being naked in front of him.
I want him to see how much smaller I am.
I want him to touch me.
I want to see his fingers spread out over my chest.
I want his hands around my waist.
I… want to come.
I lick my palm then reach inside my sweats.
I shudder, refusing to close my eyes. I need to see his strokes. Match them. Come when he does.
My eyebrows push together, and I bite my bottom lip to stop from moaning too. He’s doing enough of that for both of us.
Why did it have to be him? The man who made me feel worthless since I was old enough to want his approval. The man who gives no second thought to whether or not he should kick, slap, or punch me.
All he does is take and take without ever giving.
A tear runs down my cheek at the irony, but I don’t stop jerking off.
His speed is frantic, and so is mine.
I brace myself against the door with my forearm.
The hand behind Eden’s head flies out to grip onto one of the poles of the banister.
“Fuck yes! Don’t stop. Just like that.”
Even though his words aren’t for me, I can’t help but to follow their command.
“I hate you,” I breathe out, shaky, as I come inside my pants. Filthy and ashamed.