....tell them.... that I still loved them." Okay that sets me off.I am now crying as well. We are holding each other's hands, but that'snot enough."Mother I think you need a hug." She nods. We both step out of the car,and hug for a while, in an empty parking lot, with cars occasionallywhizzing by. Mother, being mother, wheels in her emotions and we getback into the car.She looks at me. "I've got Francica overseas in Italy, Abigail swimmingin a sea of hormones, angry at everything and everybody, the twinssharing barely one mind between the two of them, an infant, and a sissyspouse that is sooooo loyal to me, that sie never sees any of my numerousflaws, and my girlfriend, who is completely out of touch with her ownemotions, and .... You, y-o-u," she pokes me in the forehead with eachletter of the word. "I don't play favorites with my children, and Inever will, and I rarely feel the need to thank a sissy for anything, butthank you Jezebel, you might be my weirdest, quirkiest. It was hopeless, as much as I wanted to have some sense of hope for my future. "One last thing," he says softly and I feel his breath hover over my lips and I hold my breath as his lips come crashing down on mine with brutal force. He kisses me hard, bruising my lips with his as his tongue slipped between my lips. I whimper and remain still, too afraid to struggle against him. After what seems like forever, he lets up and runs his fingers through my hair. I follow his instructions and I sit up, moving behind him like a puppet. Sadly, he was my puppeteer and I had no way of getting my strings free from his clutches. I was trapped and there was nothing that I could do about it. * I tap my fingers absentmindedly as I watch out the windows, the soft pink and orange in the distance, signaling that the sun should be coming up soon. A small sigh escapes my lips as I realize I've been gone almost all night. My brother and everyone else on the bus must be so worried about me. How was I going.
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