Mistress in the Making Phase 3
Introduction:
Layla went down the basement to a tied Laura and showed her that she too could be a mistress. But she got carried away and did the mistake all inexperience dom makes. She forgot to take safety into account.
When I woke up, Laura was not in the room. I quickly scuttled off my bed. My pussy ached and reminded me of the few special hours I had with Laura last night and I smiled.
“Yeah. That.” I fluffed my semi-tangled hair and still couldn’t believe I actually fooled around with my sister. Well, ‘fool around’ would be an understatement.
I went down to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. As I drank the much needed fluid, I took a glanced around the house. It was empty. I was expecting to see my aunt or my sister or both of them somewhere around. I walked to the window and looked into the curb and sure enough my aunt’s car wasn’t there.
A thought cross my mind. If my aunt wasn’t in the house, could my sister be in the basement? A knowing grin tugged at my lips. I went back to my room to get a bobby pin and came back down. A quick pick at the lock and the door was unlocked, much to my horror that I could pick a lock this quickly of course.
I walked down to the basement without the usual practiced discretion. My sister knew I knew and my aunt wasn’t here. So there wasn’t any point to be discreet. Once I got down there, I went behind the stairs and removed the cleverly placed boxes, revealing the hidden wooden panel that led to the secret room.
A soft moan permeating through the air as soon as the panel was lifted up. My supposedly satisfied sexual desire was reignited instantly. I felt a familiar heat swelling between my legs. My cheek flushed, a reaction I didn’t expect since I should have overcome my embarrassment of my little voyeuristic indulgence. Nevertheless, it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.
When I reached the lower basement, my lungs deflated at the spectacle in front of me. Laura was on the bed, splayed to a spread-eagle posture. Her limbs were pulled taunt to the bedposts by a series of ropes. She was blindfolded and gagged, helplessly writhing on the bed. Between her spread legs was a box I vaguely recognized. After a moment, I realized it was the same box that had driven a dildo into Laura’s pussy a few days ago.
I walked closer to my immobile sister. The closeness allowed a better view of Laura’s body as well as the glass dildo gliding in and out of her lazily. At least a good three quarter of the dildo was coated with Laura’s juice when the dildo came out of her. Then, the cycle was repeated, the tip of the dildo eased forward. Laura’s pussy puckered, stretched and then engulfed the thick tip. Inch by inch, the dildo burrowed deeper until her pussy lips grazed the faint boundary of the wet portion and the dry. It went on and on, slow and sedated, mechanical and indifferent, as I stood there and watched.
“Layla?” I heard my sister mumbled through the gag.
As if snapping out of a dream, I jumped.
“Yes, I’m here.” I said nervously. My face was equally red as hers.
“My gag.” she mumbled breathlessly. I didn’t get her the first time, but when she repeated three more times, I grabbed hold on the belt on each side and yanked the gag away from her mouth.
“That’s better.” my sister let out a shuddery sigh.
I watched her swallowing and gave her jaw a good stretch. Since she already knew I was here, I went for her blindfold as well. As soon as my fingers grazed her cheeks, she jerked away and blushed deeper in red.
“No, no. That one stays.” she muttered shyly. Her embarrassment made me grin amusingly.
“Ah, I see.” I chuckled understandingly.
If I was tied in such a humiliating posture with a dildo taking its sweet time fucking my pussy as if it had all the time in the world, I wouldn’t want to look at someone’s eyes too. Particularly if I knew that person.
“Where did aunt Mary go?” I asked and looked around the room.
Without the need to be discreet anymore, I was able to focus on my surrounding rather than where I should put my foot. I saw several modernized implements of torture. A metal stock. A well lacquered chair with two protruding devices on the seat. A Spanish donkey, an implement that was recently made known to me through the hours of surfing the wrong side of the internet. The more I looked, the more my pussy throbbed in anticipation. Could I use them? Could I make someone to use them?
“I…I don’t know.” Laura’s shrill voice pulled me away from my lecherous thoughts.
“Did she say when she’ll be back?” I added.
“She never tells me when she’ll be back.” she pouted, a little resentment peppered her voice. “And I hate not knowing!” she added before shuddering and tugging the ropes.
“Okay. You seem distressed.” I remarked with a laugh.
“You won’t be laughing if you are here. Ugh!” My sister grunted. “It’s driving me crazy. I can’t come!”
I turned my attention to her pussy again. The redness was palpable. I could even smell her arousal from where I was standing. If that wasn’t enough to tell me that Laura wanted to come, the moist spot on the bed sheet underneath her pussy certainly did.
“You want me to speed it up?” I asked helpfully.
“No! Don’t! I mustn’t come.” she pressed herself onto the bed and let out a resigned sigh.
“Ah.” . Her words from last night came back to me. “So, aunt Mary doesn’t allow you to come?”
“Fuck!” Laura shuddered again. I thought she didn’t hear me until she finally said, “Oh God, even if she allows me to come, I still couldn’t.” she mewled.
“I can see why.” I remarked before licking my dry lips. That dildo was moving too slowly to give any tangible stimulation. It’s constant benign presence only served as a tease more than salvation. My pussy moistened at that thought; to put someone so close to the fruit of pleasure, yet never truly giving it.
“Can you…can you turn it off?” she groaned and shifted uncomfortably.
I looked at the box and it didn’t take long for me to spot the three dials and a glowing red on/off switch on the top. The three dials were indicated by white lettering at the bottom; Speed. Depth. Vibration. And the settings were one, five and zero respectively.
“I guess I can.” I said suggestively. My fingers clutched on the ‘Speed’ dial and turned the setting to ‘two’. The change was immediate. The dildo moved faster.
“Layla.” Laura cried hysterically. Her voice sent an electrifying thrill down my spine and my core erupted with lust.
“What?” I asked innocently and turned the dial to ‘three’.
Laura jerked against the restraints. An animalistic grunt escaped from her throat. “Layla! W-what are you doing?”
“You made me come four times yesterday. I thought I should return the favor.” and click, the dial was turned to ‘four’.
“Stop! Layla! Please sto- I’m-I’m coming!” she shrieked as her body tensed to an arc.
I flipped the switch, instantly killing the power. The dildo ran through two complete cycles before coming to a complete stop. Laura jerked and then slammed the back of her head onto the pillow a few times in frustration.
“Ugh! Layla you bitch!” Laura cursed angrily. And I meant angrily. She practically spat the words out.
Ignoring her crudeness, I turned the dial back to one and flipped the switch the other way. The motor whined softly, pushing the dildo forward. I watched Laura gritted her teeth when the tip of the dildo sank slowly into her reluctant pussy.
“Is that how you address your mistress?” I asked pointedly.
At the sound of my stern voice, Laura blushed and shook her head. A long salacious moan came out of her as she writhed. Playing my part, I pinched Laura’s right nipple and tugged it hard.
“Are you dumb? Or do I have to do something with that wet pussy of yours to make you talk?”
“No.” Laura exhaled.
“No what?” I tugged harder.
“No mistress.” she corrected.
“Good.” By the time I let go of her nipple, both nubs were already hardened.
My lips couldn’t stop grinning. I had never expected being in control of someone’s arousal could be so… invigorating. Was this what aunt Mary had felt when she delivered the punishments?
Without hesitation, I pulled down my pants and panties in one fluid movement. I stepped out of the pile of discarded garment and climbed onto the bed. My feet flanked Laura’s head and as soon as got a firm footing on the soft mattress, I squatted. My pussy was pressed against Laura’s lips. There was a gasp, then a small hesitation, followed by a sniff. Finally, her tongue took refuge in my wet folds.
“Yes.” I murmured. My fingers pressed on my clitoris and began moving in a circular motion. My hips slowly undulated, grinding my damped pussy on Laura’s suckling mouth and slithering tongue.
The heat on my neck rose and sweat began to drench my shirt. I pulled it over my head and tossed it haphazardly to the side. My bra met the same fate as well and joined the scattered fabric on the floor.
Completely lost in arousal, I leaned forward and nestled my nose on Laura’s pussy. The musky scent pushed my arousal to an even higher state. My tongue darted to her wetness and I finally tasted my sister’s pussy.
“Oh mistress. Thank you mistress.” Laura said between licks.
I parted her labia further to seek out her clitoris. It didn’t take long for me to find the red engorged nub. I mouthed over it and began to suck, my tongue darted forward and tasted the delicious bundle of nerves. Laura’s thighs tensed out of the corner of my eyes. She was clearly enjoying this little activity as much as I did.
My nose burrowed between her folds, drowning myself in her scent. Despite the dildo’s constant movement of driving into Laura’s pussy tirelessly, it didn’t become a distraction. In fact, it only exacerbated my arousal as I watched the helpless pussy engulfed the thick length over and over again.
“Yes.” I heard my own voice saying. “That’s it. Keep going.”
My tongue limped back into my mouth. My vision blurred. The room, the furniture, Laura, the bed…everything fell away. A surge of heat rushed through my body as if a warm summer wind had course through me. My body trembled. My lungs froze, locked in a fluctuating pulse of short gasp. My heart leaped to my throat as I grunted. Nothing seemed to matter anymore as an orgasm was ripped out of my body, shattering every bit of my consciousness.
I collapsed onto the side.
“Holy shit, Laura. That’s amazing.” I hissed and pushed myself away from her.
“Thank you mistress.” Laura gasped shyly.
When I moved away from the bed and picked up my clothes, Laura let out a soft whimper.
“What’s the matter?” I asked worriedly, fearing that I might have accidentally hit her when my body convulsed during the orgasm.
“Mistress, I still haven’t come yet.” she added desperately.
A grin cracked on my face. “But didn’t you say you mustn’t come, Laura?” I reminded her.
“Please, mistress. I need to come.” Laura shifted uncomfortably, the ropes tightened around the bed post as she tugged against them.
I gave her an pitied look. It didn’t seem fair for me to have my orgasm while Laura hadn’t. She did do a good job giving me yet another mind blowing orgasm and I wasn’t the kind that didn’t repay the kindness of others.
But then again, I wasn’t the one being tied.
“Well, I don’t know.” I shrugged noncommittally. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.” I added and cast her a lopsided grin.
“Please. Just once.” she pleaded.
“Well, I guess you deserve it.” I chuckled and turned the dial to ‘two’.
“Emmm…” Laura moaned.
Out of the scale of ten, two wasn’t any more stimulating than one. There’s still plenty more to go and I wasn’t planning on making it easy for her. I was sadistically inclined after all. Smiling, I switched to position three and watched as Laura’s expression mellowed. She was enjoying it, clearly oblivious to what I had in mind for her.
I switched to position four and a wry smile curled on Laura’s lips.
I switched to position five and a soft moan rippled out of her lips.
And I flipped the switch to off.
“Mistress?!” the horror in Laura’s face was priceless as it was liberating.
“Shhh…”
Unable to distinguish if I was just playing her or simply doing my part as her mistress, Laura eyed me irritably through the blindfold. Even without seeing her eyes, I could tell she was frightened of and confused at my current disposition. I used the opportunity to pull her gag back up to her mouth.
“I don’t think I should let you come.” I whispered into her ear, my voice so thick with sadistic promises even I was alarmed.
Turning the dial back to one, I flipped the switch to the ‘on’ position once again. The dildo once again moved forward sluggishly, penetrating the gaping pussy one slow inch at a time, teasing the soft pink flesh to the edge without any possible reprieve of orgasmic release.
“I’ll be right back.” I said as I pecked a light kiss on her cheek.
After putting on my clothes, I went back up stairs, putting everything back to place and locking the basement door just in case, and darted to my room. I had been in the secret room for quite a while and without knowing when my aunt would be back would mean certain risk of her walking in on me. So I called her with my cellphone. She picked up after two tone and asked what’s the problem.
“Where are you?” I asked innocently. “And Laura too.” I quickly added.
“We are at the mall, shopping for the stuff Laura will need for her college.”
Yeah, right. The college. The one with chains and whips?
“So when are you two coming back?” I asked, ignoring my sarcastic inner voice.
“Around four.” she said. “Why?”
“Nothing, really. I was getting lonely and wondering why I was left behind.” I pouted as I fibbed.
Aunt Mary chuckled and I knew she swallowed my bullshit right off the spoon. “I’ll get you a cake.”
“You better.” I said sternly. “See you.”
“See you too.”
I killed the connection and stuffed the phone into my pocket. My lips couldn’t help but to smile. It’s only half past noon now. With a smug smile, I strode confidently back to the secret room with a head full of ideas that I should have felt repulsive of myself. But I didn’t.
And that would be one of my biggest mistake.
Chapter 7
I didn’t remember how it turned out like this. Everything seemed fine just hours ago. I looked at my trembling hands as I sat on a leather couch that smelled of fresh polish. The lighting in this room was dim, which was good because I didn’t want anyone to see my tear strickened face. My head was kept low, out of the sight of the people walking around me.
The soft music played at the back did nothing to sooth my troubled heart. The light chatter of the people around only made it harder for me to breath. The shimmering chandelier the size of a mini cooper hung overhead provided no light to clear the darkness in my shattered heart. The exquisite art pieces and posh carpet faded to the background like they were nothing worth to be admired and adored.
Tears were running down my cheeks and I allowed them to meet at the tip of my chin before dripping off onto my jeans. The tears reminded me of the time when the news of mum and dad came. It reminded me of the looks on their face as they smiled brightly at Laura and me before leaving the house for the very last time and to their eventual deaths.
“You take care of your big sister, Layla.” my mother’s words resonated within me as I remembered our final moment together. Her hands were soft against my face and the kiss on my face was the single most precious memory I had of her.
They always knew I was more responsible than my sister and even though Laura was older than me, I had never failed to assume the position to be the one in charge. At least until Laura turned nineteen and began mixing with those wretched friends of hers.
But the fact remained, I was still the responsible one. I was entrusted to take care of my sister and to care for her well-being. I shouldn’t have let my aunt peruse Laura as if she was a sex slave. I shouldn’t even participate in the ridiculousness. I should have noticed the pain Laura endured sooner. I should have known how to untie those ropes, or even learned to untie them first before even doing anything to her. And most of all I shouldn’t have pushed her that much.
But my sadistically inclined lust commanded me like a misguided general leading his army into an abysmal end. I thought I knew best. I thought I couldn’t have done anything wrong.
I was wrong.
“How is she?” I heard my aunt asked softly. The couch shifted as she stood up. A pair of fine leather shoes came into my view.
“She’s fine. The muscle tear is serious but the damage should heal. She strained her tendon too but I didn’t think it is anything too serious.” a man, addressed by my aunt as Rowan and a friend of hers I presumed, informed with a wry tone.
“That’s good. Any long term effect?” my aunt asked.
“No. But she will have to rest for a few days so that the muscles can heal properly. And she needs to stay off of any heavy activity for at least six weeks.” he stressed on the words ‘heavy activity’ and that told me he might know of aunt Mary’s sadomasochistic endeavors.
“Alright. I understand.” my aunt’s voice was defeated, almost as if she was embarrassed to say anything further.
“I’ll prescribe her some painkillers for the pain and anti-histamine for the swelling. I’ll keep monitoring her for now and if she develops fever, we may have to admit her.”the man added, sounding exactly like a doctor. I chanced a glance at him.
Rowan was a man in his thirties, straight cut hair, wearing spectacle, pink shirt and black pants, the sleeve folded up until his mid arm. He looked like he could be working in a pediatric department with that nice, cleanly shaven, approachable and friendly face.
“Thanks Rowan.” Aunt Mary gave a curt nod. “Can I see her now?”
“She’s asleep. I gave her sedative to sleep through the pain and stop her from moving too much. The first few hours are crucial for a good recovery ahead. She won’t be waking anytime soon. You might want to head back home and rest first. She should wake up in the next morning.” Rowan explained.
“I see. Well, I guess I’ll head back first.”
My heart raced. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to leave this place, the place where I could find solace and hide from reality, from the coming retribution I so well deserved, from the disappointed look on aunt Mary’s face. It’s like I was a five year old once again, waiting to be given an earful at the dining table for breaking a vase.
“Mer,” the man said, his voice laden uncertainty. “This never happened before. I thought you’re always careful.”
“I know.” Aunt Mary sighed solemnly.
“Is it because…” the man trailed off.
“No, it has nothing to do with her being my niece.” my aunt snapped.
“I’m sorry.” the man apologized sincerely. “But people aren’t taking it lightly that you turned your niece into a sub. It’s taboo and all, you know.”
“If a prosecutor can be tied and fucked by the defendant that she was supposed to prosecute a few days later within these walls, I can’t see how our relationship is any worse.” aunt Mary remarked pointedly.
“You have a point.” Rowan sighed and shook his head.
“Besides, this place embraces taboos. It is where people go to satisfy their darkest fantasies without being scorn by society. You, as I recalled, fucked two of your patients at the same time a few days ago at room number seven.”
I suddenly felt really out of place as I reluctantly listened to their conversation. Then, something they said hit me. Could this place be the club aunt Mary told Laura?
In fact, I had been thinking for quite a while now. Why didn’t aunt Mary bring Laura to the hospital. Why bring her to some posh club that seemed nothing to do with healthcare and more to do with rich people burning money for the wrong things. And now I realized why.
Hospital staff asked too many questions. Questions that would lead to an insurmountable trouble for aunt Mary if answered. It would only be wise to bring Laura to the club and seek medical treatment from a doctor that wasn’t a stranger to taboos and understood the incestuous relationship that would otherwise be frowned upon.
“Layla.” aunt Mary’s voice startled me, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Time to go.”
Aunt Mary drove silently on the road as I rode shotgun, equally as quiet as she was. I hazarded a glance and instantly regretted it. Her face was strained. An unspoken disappointment was written all over her face. Cringing, I turned to the window and stared absentmindedly at the blur of white markings on the road.
The car suddenly cut into a driveway and jerked to a stop. I heard the door unlocked and aunt Mary went out of the car. The door was slammed shut and it felt like a kick to my stomach. I bit my lips and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop myself from crying again.
God, it was terrible. I would have felt better if aunt Mary had just screamed at me. I would even be grateful if she would slap me across the face. In fact, anything would be fine. Any retribution would be welcomed. Anything except this silence. The silence that was etching at my heart and exacerbating the guilt I felt.
Aunt Mary hadn’t said a thing to me since Rowan went into the room to examine Laura. Except for the four words – Laura, Time to go. The words were cold and indifferent, as if she was saying it because she didn’t have any other choice.
When the driver’s door opened, I heard the crumpling noise of polystyrene bag. I didn’t turn to see what she had bought because I was scare to look her in the eyes. The eyes of disappointment and regret, anger and resignation…the eyes that no longer see me as the sweet niece she had always thought I was.
I heard the bag being tossed to the backseat haphazardly. Then, there’s a popping sound as if a cork was yanked out of a champagne bottle. The smell of alcohol immediately hit me and I turned to my aunt. To my horror, she was taking a swig off a bottle of wine. Every inch of my nerve prickled with worry. My heart clenched as she took another long swig. She had never taken alcohol like that before. She always drank them off a cup or glass. And most of all, she never drank when she drives.
“Aunt Mary?” I muttered nervously.
“Don’t speak.” she spat and took another swig. “Hold this.” she handed me the bottle of wine and then gunned the engine.
As she drove, I took the task between passing her the bottle when she needed it and checking the vicinity for cops. I never liked the idea of drunk driving since my parents were killed by an idiot whom thought he could drive a FWD with an alcohol concentration seventeen times the legal limit in his blood.
But with the predicament at hand, I didn’t raise any objection. I did the only thing I could, checking for cops, passing her the bottle when she needed it, and be wary of any car in front of us that we might accidentally hit.
We reached our home , much to my relief, without any incident. Aunt Mary killed the engine, snatched the bottle away from my hand and left the car while I was still sitting there not knowing what to do. I watched her climbed the steps one unsteady step at a time and when she reached the door, she clumsily fished her bag for the keys. When she got in, she left the door wide open and disappeared into the house.
Reluctantly, I stepped out of the car and went into the house. When I reached the living room, aunt Mary had just walked out of the kitchen. The bottle was still in her hand.
“You dinner in on the table.” she said coldly before heading upstairs. I watched her lumbered up the steps before turning to a corner. Finally, I heard the door shut. The sound punctured my heart and I broke down and began crying.
After emptying my tear ducts for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, I closed the front door. I made a point to lock it since the last thing I wanted was a burglar slipping in to our house. I went to the kitchen next and when I saw what was on the table, my heart cringed. I felt queasy as I looked at my dinner. It was a piece of cake.
My favorite cake, Dark Forest. The piece of cake that aunt Mary had promised to buy for me because she thought I felt left behind. Because she didn’t know that I had lied to her. The cake that reminded me of my stupidity and the cruelty Laura suffered and the agony she had to endure for the following weeks.
I dragged the chair dejectedly and took a seat. There’s a tiny plastic fork in the box. I picked it up and fork a piece of the confectionery to my mouth. I slowly chewed and rolled the cake around my tongue. The cream didn’t taste sweet. I forked another piece. The chocolate tasted bitter. I forked the strawberry. The little fruit was bland. This was the first time a cake had tasted so disgustingly horrid to me. But I kept eating since I didn’t really know what else I could be doing.
Aunt Mary did not come out of her room ever since she was back. The house felt really empty, even more empty than before. The subtle warmth that had developed over the years of sweet memories was replaced with a frigid silence. The silence that reminded me of my mistake, singeing my heart with guilt.
When I hit the bed, I cried as I thought for hours how I could reverse the time and do things right. Stop aunt Mary from doing the things she did to Laura. Stop my sister from befriending the wrong kinds of friends. Stop myself from becoming what I had become. A sadist. An unforgivable sadist. Finally, stop my parents from going on that trip that took their life.
I wanted to start over again.
But that’s impossible.
Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Fortunately, it did come and granted me few hours of blissful reprieve.
The recurring alarm I set on my phone for the weekdays woke me up. I swore this ringtone was never this annoying before. I grabbed the parading device and ended the nuisance it made with a thumb slide on the screen. Then, I dropped the phone onto the ground.
I had school today. Figures. But my body simply didn’t have the will to rise from the bed. It wasn’t the lack of sleep that gravitated me to the solace of my mattress. It was the debilitating guilt that weighted me down as if a massive piece of concrete was sitting on my chest.
A stray tear rolled down my cheek. Then, another tear followed. And another.
Memories of what I did to Laura came back to haunt me like a wronged poltergeist. It was relentless as it was suffocating. I placed my arm over my eyes as the guilt-induced sorrow ripped through my body in gasping sobs.
Why didn’t I notice it earlier? The question plagued my conscience and strangled my morality.
I remembered Laura’s bellowing cries. I remembered how those cries excited me more that I would admit. I remembered how the cries made me wanted to rip more out of her. The cries of delight, as I first thought. Nothing sounded better than the shrill voice of my sister punctuated the secret room. Only after a minute did I register the distress reverberating in those cries. By the time I had removed her gag, half suspecting she was joking with me, it was already too late.
“My leg! My leg!” the words came back to me. “Ahhhh…my leg! Cramp! Ahhh…”
I shuddered and curled tighter under the sheet. My heart cringed at the memory of the spasm on Laura’s right thigh. I almost thought her leg would simply snap under all those strain. I must have looked like a clueless idiot then, gawking in fear with no bearing of what to do.
When I wanted to untie her leg, I only made the rope tighter by pulling on the wrong end. More precious time was wasted. When I wanted to cut the rope, there wasn’t any tool in the room that would do the trick. Another wasted minutes there. Out of option, I ran back up to the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and went back to Laura. Even that took a few seconds. When I wanted to cut the rope, the pathetically blunt knife barely able to tear out a few meager strands.
“Hurry! Layla!” Laura screamed in pain.
“Fuck!” I threw the knife to the ground and went back up to my room where I kept a pair of scissors in the drawer.
By the time I came back down to the secret room, Laura’s face was as pale as moonlight. She was no longer screaming, or thrashing…she was no longer doing anything.
“Laura?” I rushed to her with the scissors. I quickly cut the ropes tying her limbs, starting with the rope around her right ankle. The ropes were more robust than I expected and took me quite a bit of strength to cut them.
“Laura?” I asked again, my voice thick with desperation and fear, hoping against all odds that she was fine.
There was no response. Laura’s eyes were half closed, her pupil rolling around as if she couldn’t focus her sight. Her lips were quivering and her body trembling. Cold sweat beaded her forehead.
“Laura?” I called to her again.
No response.
And that was when I knew something terrible had happened to Laura. Without a choice, I called aunt Mary. The following event was a blur, a mangled mess of memories. I vaguely remembered it didn’t take long for aunt Mary to come back home. She made a few phone calls. She dressed up Laura with loose pajamas she brought down to the basement. Then, she carried her out to her car. I simply followed behind as I didn’t know what to do.
Thinking back what happened yesterday eradicated any hope for me to resume my sleep. I simply lied on bed, hoping that aunt Mary would soon come in and tell me to go to school. She always did that when I slept through my alarm. And perhaps using that opportunity to apologize for everything that had happened.
The morning sun rose above the horizon, casting its very first glimmer of light through the window blinds. I turned to the digital clock and it was already nine forty. My heart sank. Aunt Mary didn’t not come.
Reluctantly, I crawled out of my bed and went down stairs. I went straight to the kitchen since that’s where aunt Mary would be in the morning. But instead of finding her, I found a plate containing a piece of toast and a fried sunny side up. I went to check for her car and it was not at the curb.
I dropped onto the couch and I let out a sigh. Pulling up my knees, I hugged them tightly against my chest. I felt my heart cracked, for my aunt to ignore me to this extend. I had never been in so much trouble that aunt Mary shunted herself from me.
I tipped over and stretched my body out along the couch. I eyed at the walls absentmindedly. There’s nothing I could do now, is there? The damage in the family’s relationship. It was like a fracture in our family that could never be repaired. Will we ever be the same again?