Member-only story
Olivia’s Kiss
An excerpt:
Tampa, 1985
“You’re crawling away like a roach!” Bernard shouted.
I got out of bed, put on my robe, and walked down the hall into my parents’ bedroom. Sally lay on the bloodstained carpet, halfway between her bed and the door. She tried to move, but Bernard wouldn’t let her go.
He kicked her in the stomach, and she moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head. I froze in the hallway and wondered how long it would be until he killed her. He got just a little bit closer each time.
Her mouth looked mangled and distorted; Sally must have said something stupid for Bernard to go after her face. She probably made a crack about his toupee or bad breath.
Sally and I made eye contact; I wanted to kill them both.
“Get out!” she tried to say, choking and gurgling instead.
Bernard turned to see who lurked behind him. I looked at him, arms folded in front of me, bored with their routine.
“Enough,” I said. “Can’t you give it a rest, today of all days?”
He looked surprised to see me.
“I don’t have to put up with this shit anymore. I’m calling the police,” I said.
As I turned and walked back down the hall, I could still hear Duran Duran playing in…