Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Clara
A s I walk along the sidewalk to the house alone, my stomach twists and turns, and bile rises in my throat. Nerves threaten to destroy my digestion system, but I inhale through my nose and exhale, trying to soothe them.
Once I reach the decrepit bungalow, I straighten my shoulders and hold my head high. Paint is peeling after years of neglect, and as much as I’d rather run away and hide in Burke’s arms, I know this is what I need to do. The yard is overgrown, and the cement squares that part the grass are cracked in different spots. Memories flash before my eyes, spinning like a film reel, but I am certain I can’t simmer in the pot of the past if I want my revenge.
Andrew took everything from me, my innocence, my family, and showed me that love was only something used to control people. It’s his time to pay his debts for taking so much from a child.
The creak brings me out of the past, and the door opens. I walk up the cement steps and swallow all the sorrow and conjure the pain that has followed me for years. “Who knew I didn’t have to go out looking for my Kitty Cat? She came crawling home for me, just like I knew she would.” The gleeful tone of his voice raises the hairs on the nape of my neck, and tension wraps around my chest like a vice grip.
“Andrew. You need to leave me alone.” I know the words are futile. He won’t ever leave me be and will hide in every shadow until I can fix the holes he left in my soul.
“Ah, where would the fun in that be? I’ve been watching you. I’m the only one who knows you best.”
The stale smell of alcohol circles him, and once I’m inside the entrance, the scent of stale air and rancid food attacks me. My gaze falls upon the threadbare carpet, its stains deep like old wounds, and then to the sagging couch.
“You don’t know me anymore.” My heart races as he slams the door. The house is closing in on me as I lean against the wall.
“Kitty Cat, I’ve explored every inch of you, inside and out. You can’t say I don’t know you when I was the first one to learn everything about you.” Yellow teeth stretch into a smile, and he advances, reaching for me.
Before his tainted fingers touch my shoulder, I kick out and hit his bad knee. He stumbles back into the wooden cupboard that contains years of dust and sentimental ornaments from a time that has since died.
“Oh, you want to play? I can do all the games you want. In the end, you are always going to be mine and belong to me.” Spittle files out of his mouth, his face turning a shade of red as he staggers to stand.
A quick glance shows me his hoarding has worsened over the years, making it easier for me to decide what to do next.
When he limps toward me, I bring my knee up to connect with his testicles, but he covers them. I push a kick into his bad knee again, and he falls to the ground.
I walk past the many stacks of newspapers and grab the bundles of cords, tying his feet together. As his hand snakes around my ankle like my nightmares, I stomp my other heel into his wrist.
He grabs his arm and wiggles on the floor, spitting at me, he yells. “Fucking bitch, you can’t do this.”
A giggle escapes me before I can stop it. I jump away from his form on the carpet and glance around the room before I observe his old chair.
The memories embedded in the fabric should be burned down like the rest of the house, but I focus on the task at hand. He won’t stay down long, and I step around the piles for something else to tie him with.
A creaking noise steals my attention and as Burke walks into the house, he seems so out of place. My future mixing with my past isn’t a feeling I thought I’d ever face.
“Want me to move him closer to the living room?”
“Yes,” I say, before weaving through the maze of boxes filled with junk until I reach the kitchen. I collect scissors, a knife, and the rolling pin that has been hanging on the wall for so long that the paint underneath is now a different colour.
When I return to the living room, he’s tied to the foot of his chair and Burke is standing back.
“Who the fuck is that? Kitty Cat, you won’t get away with this. People will notice I’m missing and then you’ll be locked up in a cell, and then I’ll always know where you are.”
His words give me pause until I remember the years he spent tearing me apart and how he never served a day of time for the little girl he killed within me. I use the scissors to cut off his pants. The stench hits me first. The sour smell of unwashed skin wafts up and hovers in the air. Forcing me to breathe out of my mouth.
“Wanna give your new boyfriend a show? Because I’m sure I can get it nice and hard like you loved,” Andrew laughs.
I use the knife to stab him under the ribs. A stain blossoms on his plaid shirt as his blood seeps through, and a low groan escapes his lips. With each twist of the knife, I can feel the resistance as the muscle and fat separate beneath the skin. I apply more force with each strike, hacking away until his organs are laid bare, almost as if they are staring back at me.
Thick, crimson pools beneath my fingers, slick and warm against my skin. Rolling him onto his stomach takes me more effort, but I refuse Burke’s help.
With the knife, I cut open the back of his shirt and carve along his flesh. His screams echo through the living room, like a song I’ve been craving for the entirety of my life.
Picking up the rolling pin he used to hit me countless times, I slide it through the blood on his back and between his cheeks. I think about telling him it won’t hurt like he did for me, but why lie? I get the handle in, but I can’t fit anymore. No matter how hard I push, it won’t go in.
Frustration runs through my veins. I’ve had problems with my stomach my entire life because of what he did to me, and I refuse to leave without having this exact revenge.
I use the knife to cut his hole bigger and jam the rolling pin as far as it’ll go. The rough wood texture should cause an agony like the nights he shoved into me. Andrew’s guttural screams and groans fill the space over the squelching sound the rolling pin is making in him.
I let go, and fall back on my heels, glancing down at the well-deserved desecration of his body. For once in my life, I can finally take a full breath.
Burke steps forward and kicks him onto his back. He then steps over the body and kisses my forehead, wiping the sweaty hair from my face. “You did good, Dragonfly.”
Andrew turns his head, blood pouring over his teeth and down his chin. He grins like this is a game he’s in control of and wheezes out, “Dragonfly eh? Didn’t you know she’s a Kitty Cat, but not just any kinda feline, a fucking scaredy cat.”
“I believe Clara is quite brave. She survived you and served up revenge. That, in itself, is more courage than you could muster up your entire life,” Burke says.
Andrew directs his glassy gaze from Burke to me. “I took your innocence, everything I could, I stole it from you. I gave you enough scar tissue that you’ll never be able to forget me.”
His words hit me like a sack of bricks, as if I could escape his actions from the past and move forward in a world without my history following me.
“Scar tissue tells a story. A woman who’s overcome so much and now never has to worry again. She can stand on her own two feet to fight the demons in the real world and the ones in her own head. Not only will she never have to worry about pieces of shit like you again, because I will never leave her side, but I will also show her what true love looks like and how she should have always been treated.”
“Blah blah blah, I had her first, and you can never erase those memories,” Andrew gasps.
I get up and step forward, but Burke stops me. He takes the knife from my hand and lowers his head to kiss me. “He’s mine now.”