Page 37 of Everything Under the Sun

“He hurt me, Thais,” she whispered near my ear; the heat of her breath warmed the side of my cheek; she continued to run her fingers through my hair.

I tensed; I was getting mixed messages, strangely mixed feelings from Petra, and I was too afraid to say the wrong thing. I just wanted her to go back to her own cot.

“If he had been a little smaller,” Petra said, still combing through my hair as if she were petting a cat, “it might not’ve hurt so bad—but I can’t say I didn’t like it. Only done it back there a few times.” Her hand stopped moving in my hair, and the heat from her breath spread closer to my lips. “When was the last time you were with a man, Thais?”

The discomfort I felt was unbearable. I didn’t like how Petra touched me, or how close she was pressing her pelvic bone against my bottom; I didn’t like the things she was saying or how she said them.

“It was…”—I struggled with the lie—“…it’s been a long time.”

Petra’s soft fingers grazed my neck as she moved the hair away.

“Look,” she whispered, “I know you’re afraid of the men here; I know you’ll probably never want any of them for comfort or pleasure, but I consider you my friend, and I’m willing to help you any way I can—you know that, right?”

I wasn’t sure I liked what she was getting at—I wasn’t sure if I even understood it.

Petra’s hand slid down my body, over my hip and underneath my gown to find the warmth between my legs. I couldn’t move, I was panicked and confused; sweat that had nothing to do with the summer heat beaded in my hairline.

“All you ever have to do is ask, Thais, and I’ll touch you and, well, I’ll help you feel better,” she said as her fingers inched closer. “Because I’m your friend and we owe it to each other to make sure we’re happy and comfortable. We should look out for each other.”

I shook my head, reached down and took hold of Petra’s hand, pushing it away.

“N-No,” I said. “I-I’ll be okay on my own—please just let me go back to sleep.”

I tried to move away, but then the air was cut off from my lungs as Petra’s hand clamped violently around my throat. I choked and gasped for air, my mouth wide open as if I could suck the air from the room back into my starved lungs. Both of my hands came up, clawing at Petra’s wrist, trying desperately to pry her vise-grip-like fingers from my throat. Petra’s eyes were feral and ferocious as she glared down into my face. Her teeth were pressed together and bared, her lips curled, snarling. I hadn’t even noticed how or when Petra climbed on top of me, her legs straddling my waist, holding me down; and I hadn’t noticed how long the tip of the pencil beside my cot had been pressed against my jugular by Petra’s other hand. I dared not move.

We are all animals, and animals are by nature, killers.

“If you ever say a fucking word to anyone,” Petra spit the words through her tightly locked teeth, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

My eyes opened and closed from exhaustion; the room faded in and out through a blurry haze. I felt my face changing colors—red and purple and probably even blue—and my head felt like a balloon filled with cement.

I’m going to die…

Petra let go at the last second and slowly stood.

I coughed in a violent fit; tears burned my eyes and nostrils. My fingers probed my throat where Petra’s hawk-like claw had been. And before I could pull myself together enough to form a coherent thought, Petra had already walked away and went back to her own bed.

Shaken by my brush with death, I could only lay there and stare at the wall, unable to close my eyes. Quietly I sobbed. We have to get out of here, Sosie. We have to get out of here…

Six days. It had been only six days and Petra wasn’t the same kind girl with motherly instincts she was when I’d met her. She’d already lost herself. She’d already forgotten who she was and the things she stood for and believed in, to become someone else, someone dark and hateful and dangerous. All in the name of survival.

I was alone, truly alone now, with no one I could cling to for the smallest ounce of comfort. I was locked in a cage with a wild animal that had turned on me once; I knew the next time might be when Petra would kill me.

The seventh day passed without incident, and then the eighth and the ninth and nothing had changed. Petra and I never spoke to one another again.

14

ATTICUS

I startled awake when what at first sounded like a muffled gunshot found its way to my ears. My eyes popped open as if a switch had been flipped in my brain, and I lay in the center of my small, lumpy bed, staring up at the shadow-patterned ceiling, wondering what in the hell that was, or if I’d only dreamt it. Another bang sounded, followed by several more, but they weren’t muffled gunshots, or just a dream, I realized quickly.

I leapt out of bed and jumped into my pants after snatching them from the floor. My room was dark, and as I rushed toward the door with my gun in-hand, I tripped on my boots and fell flat on my face. “Shit!”

The banging noises were getting louder, followed by angry voices and the screaming of women.

I picked myself up, swung open the door and ran out into the hallway with my pants settled around my hips, having no time to zip and button them.

Rushing into the room across the hall, I saw the brown-haired girl, named Thais, curled up on her cot in an upright position, one shoulder pressed into the corner of the wall; her hands were wound within her hair as if she were clutching her ears.

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