Our Lives

Hello, y'all. So, after being away from Steemit for a week, it happens that my exams are over. I'm officially back with my crazy posts. This one is a piece of fiction laced with a little poetry. It is also an entry to a contest. I hope you enjoy it.

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_{Photo credit - @nubellorona}

I was fifteen when she first touched me. My Mama had finally allowed me to attend Sunday School. I never liked it - Sunday School, and Mama was surprised when I asked. Her no was more from confusion than refusal. She didn’t understand why I wanted to go, but I kept pushing till she nodded in exasperation, her big brown eyes wide as she studied me. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to go either. Maybe because of her. I always liked her, though I hid it well, or so I thought.

Before that day, it was just politeness. Yes, that was my belief. She would pat my arm lightly and smile into my eyes. But she began to watch me. I would turn and catch her staring at me, making the hairs at the back of my neck to stand. It wasn’t exactly an eerie feeling, like a predator stalking his prey. It was more of an intense sensation. She would smile on meeting my eyes and the lower part of my stomach would melt.

I began to sit next to her. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Her eyes had lit up the first day I arrived, then she patted the empty space besides her, staring intensely at me as I approached. I gave her my shy smile and sat, consciously aware of her eyes on my slightly bowed legs. She touched me lightly on the arm with her index finger before turning back to the instructor. I never concentrated. My breath kept coming in short whispers, and I kept shifting uncomfortably while pressing my thighs together.

INTERLUDE
I’m dreaming
Tawny pair of eyes are on me
Watching and waiting
I cannot tell if it’s a human’s
Or a cat’s
I raise my hand to touch
And they fade away
Then something is on my neck
Touching my hairline gently
I wake with a start

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Her fingers moved up my knees to my lap. I tensed. She stopped mid motion and leaned into me.

“Relax,” she whispered. “Tell me if you don’t like it and I will stop.”

She waited. I said nothing. She smirked and continued her lazy assault. Her fingers snaked up my thighs and under my gown. I had thought it decent to wear a gown to Sunday School. Gowns were one of the things I disliked, another reason my Mama raised an eyebrow when I came downstairs, ready to go.

She got to my boxer briefs and stilled. Her eye snapped up in surprise. Holding my gaze, she traced one finger on the hem, following the soft elastic to the back of my thighs.

“You wear briefs?” she asked.

I stared at her, holding my breath.

“Tell me.”

“I like them,” I answered quietly.

She nodded and withdrew her fingers. It was the Sunday of my second week and she never touched me again.

I waited the following week but nothing happened. We continued to sit side by side, exchanging only a polite smile. By the end of the fifth week, I had made up my mind to stop attending. She was my only reason and I had lost her. The day I planned to stop, I wore my usual T-shirt and jeans. As I made my way to the instructor to hand in my pamphlet and excommunicate myself, someone touched my right arm. I turned and stared into her tawny eyes.

“Don’t go, Ana,” she pleaded. “Please come home with me.”

INTERLUDE
I’m dreaming again
But this time, I can see myself
Walking barefoot in the dark
Searching for something I don’t remember
Then I see it and I know
The house
Standing on a small rise above the ground
I cannot tell if it’s marble, bricks or pure stones
There are lights at the window
And someone is standing close to one

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I stood under the willow tree overlooking the house. It was the same – the air and the serenity. It was the first thing I had noticed when she first brought me here, that day seventeen years ago. It was also the second thing I fell in love with. The first being her.

The little girl besides me tugged at my hand.

“Mummy, when is my second Mummy coming home?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes and she laughed. She like to do that, calling us Mummy one and Mummy two since she could talk. I looked down, her bright laughter tugging at my heart. Our daughter, the beautiful and carefree child we always wanted.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered conspiratorially.

She laughed again and took off toward the house. Before I could call for her to be careful, she disappeared behind the tall flowers in front the terrace. I stared a moment longer at the house, wondering if the events of seventeen years ago was the reason I turned out this way.

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Thanks for reading!
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