Saartjie
If Gaal wasn't dead this time then he would never die. The amount of blood that had covered their home and her in the aftermath of their fight had been shocking. He hadn't been breathing when she left, but most men didn't breathe after being stabbed and their throats cut. Thinking about it now made her shudder because the rage she had felt that night had been something she'd never felt before and her actions reminded her too much of her father. She didn't want to think that she was anything like him, but there was no denying that he was a part of who she was.
"Yes." Saartjie answered. She could still see him laying on the floor, blood spattered across their furniture and pooling on the polished floor under him. "I'm positive he's dead.."
She lapsed into silence as her brother grabbed her hand to inspect the scar that stretched across her palm. When he finally looked up at her she met his gaze and simply nodded. Four years. It had been the longest four years of her life, stuck with him. She didn't know where Sunjata was, only that he had escaped and was living a better life. She didn't have her mother to talk to. She couldn't even talk to the few friends she'd had about anything she felt because they were all so brainwashed by their life of leisure and the things they had been taught growing up. One by one they had all fallen pregnant and seeing that had made Gaal even more insistent on having a child.
The chair scraped against the floor as Jata pushed back from the table and stood. Soon after he lifted her head to inspect the fading bruises on her face. "He did." She confirmed, but her tone was not the submissive tone of a battered woman. "The night I killed him." There was so much more to it than that, though. "He told me that he was the one that found your location and turned it in so you were captured and tortured. And he said he was going to find you again. And that you were going to be dragged back and executed." And she just couldn't let that happen. All the times that Sunjata had protected her it had been time for her to protect him. "So we fought. And I killed him."
"Yes." Saartjie answered. She could still see him laying on the floor, blood spattered across their furniture and pooling on the polished floor under him. "I'm positive he's dead.."
She lapsed into silence as her brother grabbed her hand to inspect the scar that stretched across her palm. When he finally looked up at her she met his gaze and simply nodded. Four years. It had been the longest four years of her life, stuck with him. She didn't know where Sunjata was, only that he had escaped and was living a better life. She didn't have her mother to talk to. She couldn't even talk to the few friends she'd had about anything she felt because they were all so brainwashed by their life of leisure and the things they had been taught growing up. One by one they had all fallen pregnant and seeing that had made Gaal even more insistent on having a child.
The chair scraped against the floor as Jata pushed back from the table and stood. Soon after he lifted her head to inspect the fading bruises on her face. "He did." She confirmed, but her tone was not the submissive tone of a battered woman. "The night I killed him." There was so much more to it than that, though. "He told me that he was the one that found your location and turned it in so you were captured and tortured. And he said he was going to find you again. And that you were going to be dragged back and executed." And she just couldn't let that happen. All the times that Sunjata had protected her it had been time for her to protect him. "So we fought. And I killed him."
but close my eyes for a while
and force from the world a patient smile
and force from the world a patient smile
