Thirty five degrees at ten o’clock at night, it was too hot. There was no wind, not even a slight breeze to break the oppressive humidity. Ten year old Rachel Andrews would know if there was, she was still awake, too hot and too uncomfortable to sleep. She was standing in front of the open window hoping to catch even the slightest suggestion of moving air.
The moon was full, making it a bright night. Rachel was staring out across the house paddock to the line of trees along the edge of the creek, if it could be called that, there was barely enough water for a trickle. She had been told during winter there was enough water running in the old riverbed that it could still be called a stream. Not that she had ever seen it, she was never at the farm during winter.
For perhaps the fiftieth time in a week she was wondering why her parents insisted on dumping her at her aunt and uncle’s farm for two weeks while they jet-setted. She’d rather be just about anywhere else. The farm was boring. She had no-one to hang with, her cousins didn’t count. There was nothing to do, the boys had computers but even if she was interested in computer games she wouldn’t have been allowed to touch them. There wasn’t even a pool.
Rachel hated the farm. Her aunt and uncle barely seemed to notice she was there. She was fed and told when to go to bed, apart from that she was left to fend for herself. Simply put, two weeks on the farm sucked. She wished her parents had let her stay at her best friends place, at least if she had have been at Grace’s she wouldn’t have been so bored. They never even considered it, dismissing it out of hand as soon as Rachel suggested it.
Rachel heard footsteps coming up the corridor. She jumped back into bed, pulled the sheet over herself and shut her eyes. Maybe if he thought she was asleep, her fourteen year old brat cousin Trevor would leave her alone. So far for the seven days she’d already been at the farm not one had gone by without him teasing or hassling her every time no one else was around. Rachel didn’t bother complaining anymore. She had tried telling her aunt a couple of times only to be told firstly he was just having a little bit of fun, that’s what boys do, and the second time she was told not to tell tales and just to ignore him because he’d eventually get bored and leave her alone.
The door to Rachel’s room opened. She lay as still as she could. He’d never bothered her at night before, but then his parents were usually home. Tonight they had gone out. The door shut. She was just about to open her eyes and throw off the uncomfortable sheet when she heard footsteps inside her room.
“C’mon,” she heard Trevor’s voice. “I know you’re awake, it’s too hot to be asleep.” Rachel didn’t say anything.
“Well if that’s the way you want to be. I have a game for us to play.” Trevor was at the edge of her bed.
Rachel was trying to keep her eyes shut and remember to breathe. Suddenly she felt very scared. She knew something was very wrong. The sheet was thrown to the side. She felt Trevor tug her nightie upwards.
“Don’t bother shouting, Mum and Dad won’t be back for ages and Brett has gone over to his girlfriend’s, he is of the opinion I am old enough to look after you. That and his girlfriend rang saying she wanted some.”
Rachel was beginning to hope this was all a horrible dream. His hand touched her hip. Her breathing quickened.
“See I knew you were awake. Open your eyes.”
She screwed them shut more tightly.
Trevor’s weight moved on the bed as he leant over her and whispered, “It doesn’t matter, I already know what colour they are.”
Rachel could feel his breath on her neck and she bit the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t cry.
Ten minutes later Trevor got up to leave. “By the way,” he hissed, “I wouldn’t bother telling anyone, they aren’t going to believe you. Besides,” he gave a nasty laugh, “this is just what boys do.”
Trevor left.
Rachel lay there on the bed not knowing what to do. She couldn’t seem to get her body or her brain to work. The only thing she knew was that she was still alive. The only thing she could focus on was her breathing. In and out. In and out. She started shaking, rolled over onto her side and pulled the sheet up over herself. It didn’t help. Her legs felt sticky. The bottom sheet felt wet and sticky.
Standing up, Rachel pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapped it around herself, went to the door and listened. When she was certain she couldn’t hear anyone she opened the door. Just a crack at first, she didn’t want to take any chances. Quickly she opened the door, shut it behind herself and raced for the bathroom down the hall.
She didn’t want to turn the light on but knew she had to if she was going to clean everything up. She worked trying not to think about what had just happened. Trying instead to focus only on getting the blood stains out of the sheet. There was also blood on her nightie and her thighs.
Rachel turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and scrubbed her whole body. By the time she was finished her thighs were almost raw and her skin all over stung. Rachel didn’t care. She just wanted to feel clean. She wanted to wash the horrible memory away with the blood.
She turned the water off and stood there shaking. As she watched the last of the water trickle down the drain Trevor’s words echoed in her head. “They’re not going to believe you,” and “That’s just what boys do,” kept replaying over and over.
Rachel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the driveway. She didn’t know who it was but it didn’t matter. She got out of the shower, quickly wrapped her towel around herself not even bothering to dry off first. Grabbing the sheet and nightie she raced back to her room. As quickly and as quietly as she could Rachel remade the bed, with the still wet sheet on the top. Hanging the wet nightie and towel over the back of a chair she put on clean underwear and a second nightie and crawled into bed, pulling the wet top sheet over herself.
Rachel lay there waiting and listening. Two car doors shut. The front door opened and closed. She could hear voices talking but couldn’t make out what was being said. She heard footsteps coming up the hallway and stopping outside her door. Rachel bit her lip to stop herself making any noise. Her bedroom door opened. Rachel curled herself up tighter under the wet sheet, willing herself not to shiver despite the heat. Trevor’s voice almost caused her to jump.
“See I told you everything is fine, the brat is exactly where she is meant to be. You can trust me.”
“Well at least we can trust one of you, what was your brother thinking?”
Rachel’s bedroom door was closed. Rachel hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath until she started gasping for air. Trevor had been right, his parents would never believe her if she told them what he had done. They would say she was just making up another story. Rachel didn’t understand why anyone would think someone would make up a story like that but she knew there was no way they were going to believe her over their own son.
Her parents would believe her though, if only she could talk to them. The only problem was she didn’t know how to contact them, only her aunt had that information, her parents thought she was too young.
‘Maybe if I tell my aunt I’m really missing my parents she’d call them for me,’ she thought, ‘Then I’ll be able to tell them. When I do that they will come and pick me up and take me away from this place.’
Rachel finally drifted off to sleep thinking about her parents driving in to rescue her from the nightmare she found herself trapped in.
The next morning Rachel woke up and for a few seconds everything was normal. Until she stretched and the pain she felt reminded her of what Trevor had done. Tears started forming. Rachel swiped at the tears, she didn’t want to cry. Not here anyway, maybe when she was safely at home. She quickly got dressed thinking about how she was going to convince her aunt that she had to speak to her mum.
In the end it had been easy and before long Rachel was listening to a dial tone waiting for her mother to pick up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi Mum,” Rachel started to feel better knowing her mother was right at the other end of the phone line.
“Oh hi sweetie, how are things on the farm? I bet the fresh air is doing you the world of good. Your Dad and I are having a great time too.”
“Uh, Mum, I need to talk to you about something.” It took all Rachel’s courage to interrupt her mother, it was something she had been taught not to do.
“What is it honey?”
“Well,” Rachel realised she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath. “It’s about Trevor.”
“Oh honey,” she heard her mother sigh. “Lena said you two were having problems, but that’s only natural, what with you being cousins and Trevor being a boy. Boys can be really annoying, especially teenage ones. Don’t worry about it, after all boys will be boys. Just try to ignore him, show him you are better than he his by not stooping to his level. Go somewhere he isn’t, it is a pretty big farm after all.”
“But Mum he…” Rachel didn’t get to finish.
“He what? Look sweetie I don’t have time for this our taxi is due to arrive. You hang in there and try to enjoy the rest of your holiday. I’ve got to go, love you.”
Rachel heard the phone click as her mother hung up on her. Rachel nearly burst into tears. Her dreams for being rescued lay shattered. Rachel didn’t know what she was going to do. In fact the only thing that seemed to register was now she knew for certain her parents didn’t care about what happened to her. She finally had her answer. Obviously that was why they sent her away for two weeks every year.
Devastated Rachel stayed at the farm for the second week. She didn’t have any choice. She tried avoiding Trevor which worked sometimes, while other times he seemed to go out of his way to be where she was.
For a few nights she wedged a chair against the door to stop Trevor coming into her room. Until her aunt found out and took it away saying, ‘It’s for your own good, privacy is not more important than safety, what if something happened and we needed to get to you in a hurry, that chair could be the difference between life and death.’ Rachel wasn’t strong enough to move the dresser she knew that because she tried.
Her parents called once during the second week but again they had to rush somewhere so had no time for anything apart from: hi, see you soon and bye.
Trevor came into her room twice more. The last time, the night before she went home he whispered, “I wouldn’t bother telling your parents, they won’t care, why do you think they leave you here every year? It’s so they can get away from you. Surely you know they have much more fun when you are not around.”
Rachel waited until Trevor had left before she let his words enter her head and the tears fell. There was no doubt in her mind about the truth of what he said. He was just confirming what she already knew from conversations she’d had with her parents. In an effort to muffle her sobs, Rachel buried her head in a pillow. With everything that had happened in the last two weeks she wasn’t under any circumstances going to let him see how much damage he had done. The first brick was placed in what would become the wall around her emotions.
The moon was full, making it a bright night. Rachel was staring out across the house paddock to the line of trees along the edge of the creek, if it could be called that, there was barely enough water for a trickle. She had been told during winter there was enough water running in the old riverbed that it could still be called a stream. Not that she had ever seen it, she was never at the farm during winter.
For perhaps the fiftieth time in a week she was wondering why her parents insisted on dumping her at her aunt and uncle’s farm for two weeks while they jet-setted. She’d rather be just about anywhere else. The farm was boring. She had no-one to hang with, her cousins didn’t count. There was nothing to do, the boys had computers but even if she was interested in computer games she wouldn’t have been allowed to touch them. There wasn’t even a pool.
Rachel hated the farm. Her aunt and uncle barely seemed to notice she was there. She was fed and told when to go to bed, apart from that she was left to fend for herself. Simply put, two weeks on the farm sucked. She wished her parents had let her stay at her best friends place, at least if she had have been at Grace’s she wouldn’t have been so bored. They never even considered it, dismissing it out of hand as soon as Rachel suggested it.
Rachel heard footsteps coming up the corridor. She jumped back into bed, pulled the sheet over herself and shut her eyes. Maybe if he thought she was asleep, her fourteen year old brat cousin Trevor would leave her alone. So far for the seven days she’d already been at the farm not one had gone by without him teasing or hassling her every time no one else was around. Rachel didn’t bother complaining anymore. She had tried telling her aunt a couple of times only to be told firstly he was just having a little bit of fun, that’s what boys do, and the second time she was told not to tell tales and just to ignore him because he’d eventually get bored and leave her alone.
The door to Rachel’s room opened. She lay as still as she could. He’d never bothered her at night before, but then his parents were usually home. Tonight they had gone out. The door shut. She was just about to open her eyes and throw off the uncomfortable sheet when she heard footsteps inside her room.
“C’mon,” she heard Trevor’s voice. “I know you’re awake, it’s too hot to be asleep.” Rachel didn’t say anything.
“Well if that’s the way you want to be. I have a game for us to play.” Trevor was at the edge of her bed.
Rachel was trying to keep her eyes shut and remember to breathe. Suddenly she felt very scared. She knew something was very wrong. The sheet was thrown to the side. She felt Trevor tug her nightie upwards.
“Don’t bother shouting, Mum and Dad won’t be back for ages and Brett has gone over to his girlfriend’s, he is of the opinion I am old enough to look after you. That and his girlfriend rang saying she wanted some.”
Rachel was beginning to hope this was all a horrible dream. His hand touched her hip. Her breathing quickened.
“See I knew you were awake. Open your eyes.”
She screwed them shut more tightly.
Trevor’s weight moved on the bed as he leant over her and whispered, “It doesn’t matter, I already know what colour they are.”
Rachel could feel his breath on her neck and she bit the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t cry.
Ten minutes later Trevor got up to leave. “By the way,” he hissed, “I wouldn’t bother telling anyone, they aren’t going to believe you. Besides,” he gave a nasty laugh, “this is just what boys do.”
Trevor left.
Rachel lay there on the bed not knowing what to do. She couldn’t seem to get her body or her brain to work. The only thing she knew was that she was still alive. The only thing she could focus on was her breathing. In and out. In and out. She started shaking, rolled over onto her side and pulled the sheet up over herself. It didn’t help. Her legs felt sticky. The bottom sheet felt wet and sticky.
Standing up, Rachel pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapped it around herself, went to the door and listened. When she was certain she couldn’t hear anyone she opened the door. Just a crack at first, she didn’t want to take any chances. Quickly she opened the door, shut it behind herself and raced for the bathroom down the hall.
She didn’t want to turn the light on but knew she had to if she was going to clean everything up. She worked trying not to think about what had just happened. Trying instead to focus only on getting the blood stains out of the sheet. There was also blood on her nightie and her thighs.
Rachel turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and scrubbed her whole body. By the time she was finished her thighs were almost raw and her skin all over stung. Rachel didn’t care. She just wanted to feel clean. She wanted to wash the horrible memory away with the blood.
She turned the water off and stood there shaking. As she watched the last of the water trickle down the drain Trevor’s words echoed in her head. “They’re not going to believe you,” and “That’s just what boys do,” kept replaying over and over.
Rachel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the driveway. She didn’t know who it was but it didn’t matter. She got out of the shower, quickly wrapped her towel around herself not even bothering to dry off first. Grabbing the sheet and nightie she raced back to her room. As quickly and as quietly as she could Rachel remade the bed, with the still wet sheet on the top. Hanging the wet nightie and towel over the back of a chair she put on clean underwear and a second nightie and crawled into bed, pulling the wet top sheet over herself.
Rachel lay there waiting and listening. Two car doors shut. The front door opened and closed. She could hear voices talking but couldn’t make out what was being said. She heard footsteps coming up the hallway and stopping outside her door. Rachel bit her lip to stop herself making any noise. Her bedroom door opened. Rachel curled herself up tighter under the wet sheet, willing herself not to shiver despite the heat. Trevor’s voice almost caused her to jump.
“See I told you everything is fine, the brat is exactly where she is meant to be. You can trust me.”
“Well at least we can trust one of you, what was your brother thinking?”
Rachel’s bedroom door was closed. Rachel hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath until she started gasping for air. Trevor had been right, his parents would never believe her if she told them what he had done. They would say she was just making up another story. Rachel didn’t understand why anyone would think someone would make up a story like that but she knew there was no way they were going to believe her over their own son.
Her parents would believe her though, if only she could talk to them. The only problem was she didn’t know how to contact them, only her aunt had that information, her parents thought she was too young.
‘Maybe if I tell my aunt I’m really missing my parents she’d call them for me,’ she thought, ‘Then I’ll be able to tell them. When I do that they will come and pick me up and take me away from this place.’
Rachel finally drifted off to sleep thinking about her parents driving in to rescue her from the nightmare she found herself trapped in.
The next morning Rachel woke up and for a few seconds everything was normal. Until she stretched and the pain she felt reminded her of what Trevor had done. Tears started forming. Rachel swiped at the tears, she didn’t want to cry. Not here anyway, maybe when she was safely at home. She quickly got dressed thinking about how she was going to convince her aunt that she had to speak to her mum.
In the end it had been easy and before long Rachel was listening to a dial tone waiting for her mother to pick up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi Mum,” Rachel started to feel better knowing her mother was right at the other end of the phone line.
“Oh hi sweetie, how are things on the farm? I bet the fresh air is doing you the world of good. Your Dad and I are having a great time too.”
“Uh, Mum, I need to talk to you about something.” It took all Rachel’s courage to interrupt her mother, it was something she had been taught not to do.
“What is it honey?”
“Well,” Rachel realised she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath. “It’s about Trevor.”
“Oh honey,” she heard her mother sigh. “Lena said you two were having problems, but that’s only natural, what with you being cousins and Trevor being a boy. Boys can be really annoying, especially teenage ones. Don’t worry about it, after all boys will be boys. Just try to ignore him, show him you are better than he his by not stooping to his level. Go somewhere he isn’t, it is a pretty big farm after all.”
“But Mum he…” Rachel didn’t get to finish.
“He what? Look sweetie I don’t have time for this our taxi is due to arrive. You hang in there and try to enjoy the rest of your holiday. I’ve got to go, love you.”
Rachel heard the phone click as her mother hung up on her. Rachel nearly burst into tears. Her dreams for being rescued lay shattered. Rachel didn’t know what she was going to do. In fact the only thing that seemed to register was now she knew for certain her parents didn’t care about what happened to her. She finally had her answer. Obviously that was why they sent her away for two weeks every year.
Devastated Rachel stayed at the farm for the second week. She didn’t have any choice. She tried avoiding Trevor which worked sometimes, while other times he seemed to go out of his way to be where she was.
For a few nights she wedged a chair against the door to stop Trevor coming into her room. Until her aunt found out and took it away saying, ‘It’s for your own good, privacy is not more important than safety, what if something happened and we needed to get to you in a hurry, that chair could be the difference between life and death.’ Rachel wasn’t strong enough to move the dresser she knew that because she tried.
Her parents called once during the second week but again they had to rush somewhere so had no time for anything apart from: hi, see you soon and bye.
Trevor came into her room twice more. The last time, the night before she went home he whispered, “I wouldn’t bother telling your parents, they won’t care, why do you think they leave you here every year? It’s so they can get away from you. Surely you know they have much more fun when you are not around.”
Rachel waited until Trevor had left before she let his words enter her head and the tears fell. There was no doubt in her mind about the truth of what he said. He was just confirming what she already knew from conversations she’d had with her parents. In an effort to muffle her sobs, Rachel buried her head in a pillow. With everything that had happened in the last two weeks she wasn’t under any circumstances going to let him see how much damage he had done. The first brick was placed in what would become the wall around her emotions.
No comments:
Post a Comment