Biographical Non-Fiction posted October 17, 2023 Chapters:  ...21 22 -23- 24... 


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Girl in the forest, Woman with a walking stick Age 15

A chapter in the book Ghost

Cat & Mouse

by Lea Tonin1


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.

Until recently, I was a prisoner of the past...angry, resentful, sad, distrustful and defensive.
 
These traits I carried stayed with me for some time.  I also kept the real me under wraps.
 
Outwardly, I was the life of the party, the Comedian, the Singer, the Fishing Guide, the Customs Officer, the Mother and the Widow. 
Inside, with writing and some key people on this site, I'm able to look beyond the negative and simply be the comedian, the Fishing guide, The customs Officer, the Mother and the Widow.
 
Oh, But I am angry...oh yes.  The depth of the depravity, betrayal and violation went much deeper than I knew.
 
During those months in the forest, in the park, I came to fully understand after much analysis that all that had happened was not my fault.
That the negative traits were fostered by a negative environment.
This realization gave me the ability to know and be able to separate my stepfather from everyone else. To not punish the world's people because of my pain. 
That was freedom to me. Every time I recall that moment, that rush of feeling comes over me again. Sort of like the one you get when you're on a roller coaster at the top and you're about to go down.
The only part that still troubles me is that my parents or my family ever paid for what they did to any of us girls.
There was no restitution, no being held to account, no "I'm sorry". 
But I write...my pen is my grenade.
 
I also know this, balls to bones, the Pied Piper has been calling for some time now....
 
Looking for his payment.
 
*****************************
 

Gazing out over the high school field, I could see dew sprinkled on the grass like little diamonds offered up to the sun.

I wondered if they would sparkle so brightly if they knew what was in the forest behind them.

Earlier I started checking the perimeter for any gaps. Given the night I had, perimeter walking was paramount. 

A branch that I left on the line was the only one disturbed.

That could have been an animal or could have been them. I voted for the animal given the direction of the voices came from.

I began to fill in the gap so that it would be difficult to miss the sound of anyone or anything crossing it.

Adding some more piles of dry twigs all along the line so that I would hear a louder snap seemed reasonable. Satisfied that the perimeter was as safe as I could make it for now.

I started expanding my walk in concentric circles. It didn't take long to see broken branches and disturbed ground. Whoever came through here was like a bear in a honey shop.

It's as if they plowed their way through rather than exercise a little caution.  Whoever did this was an amateur...whoever did this was less than fifteen minutes from my site.

My heart jolted so much that I feared it wouldn't restart. I followed the snapped branches and disturbed ground back to the trail that led to the high school field. No signs could I see beyond that.

One positive, attached to the side of the school facing the forest was a tap.  A REAL TAP!!  I zipped up the side of the field, up along the wall of the school and approached the tap.  Turning the tap gingerly, I was overjoyed to see the splash and hear the gurgle!  

I tilted my head under the tap and gulped. I gulped and gulped until I thought I would turn into a big water balloon! 

I leaned forward and stuck my head completely under the tap and let the water run down.

I let the water run through my hair down my back through my clothes down to my toes. I let it run... I decided then and there I was going to kill two birds with one stone. "I'll go back to the field tonight," I thought.  The off chance that I might see whoever they were that came close to my camp was slim but I had to try.  "Know thy enemy" my sergeant used to say.

The other?

To wash...a glorious fabulous wash. "I'll bring my water jug and wash by the edge of the forest as quickly and as quietly as I can". All these thoughts occurred to me as I made my way back to the camp. A yearning was developing inside of me,  one that grew daily.

A wish. A hope. A dream of...just being a kid. 

I didn't want to have to worry about all these things.

Wondering where to go and what to do next.  I guess security is the word I'm looking for. 

A simple hug would have done it temporarily.

I let go, my tears dropped on the forest floor. I wept not caring who heard me.

I wept for my sisters. I wept for our lives. I wept for all the pain and I wept for the kid I couldn't be.  I crumbled under the stress of it all and just let it pour out of me.

I was, after all, still just a kid...

*****************************
Writing this chapter did drain me some...but it's not a bad thing...
It is the emptying of an overfilled bucket.
It is the scraping of the flotsam of my life, it is the skin over the pail of cream.
 
Scrape...pull...drain...rinse
 




This chapter is part of an ongoing auto bio I'm writing called "Ghost" a work in progress. It can be found in my portfolio. Feel free to read at any time you wish. One small piece of information, this work can be disturbing to read reader discretion is advised.
***Picture by IStock***
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