posted on Nov, 8 2006 @ 10:50 PM
Thank you Masqua.
Leafing through the magazine, a bridle brank had triggered the avalanche. Chloe froze, almost wet herself, ran to the washroom where she now couldn't
pee. He had called his version of the brank the scold cap. She'd worn it in the cold dark room, she now found herself in, again.
Henry had been an uncle, the family friend who'd lost a daughter. He'd arrived when she was 4 or 5; when her teenaged brother had begun
experimenting with drugs and sibling torture. Distracted, separated or divorced, Chloe's parents were grateful when Henry took her on vacations and
took an interest in her.
Inexplicably, Henry disappeared when she was 11; he would send her postcards faithfully for another 13 years.
Chloe reeled and steadied her forehead against the cold tile. She remembered the country house. The frightened angry embarrassment of playing nude
hostess to well-dressed adults. They'd brushed it off as nothing, laughing and consoling, or to the scold cap stool. Henry hadn't hurt her. He'd
jealously guarded her hymen like a solicitous shrew, while magnanimously boasting of 'training'.
Traveling in Africa after 3.5 years of only postcards from Henry, Chloe's companions got sick on the eggs. 48 hours passed before the bedridden
realized Chloe was missing. A few more weeks went by before she turned up again.
Everyone was frantic when Henry calmly arrived. The police had become helplessly disinterested. Everyone greeted Henry and his connections with
relief. He'd attained them serving as an officer in the schutzstaffel, in addition to his genteel authority and sophisticated style. Henry assured
Chloe her freedom was his penury and Chloe couldn't help it she loved him gratefully.
Love built on lies or other plans, in either case some version of reality prevailed and Chloe hid in a small town serving lunches. After a short time,
a strikingly handsome new 'teacher' in town asked her out.
She never made the connection between the assault that night and the next 3 years of disjointed high living, other than misguided defiance. Never made
a connection between Henry's training and being sold in Africa. Preposterous that nazi's love astrology and her induced birth resulted with much
scorpio in Venus rising.
Fate trumped them all. Chloe became no use for anyone but God, and God was in for a fight. The theft of Choe, she'd hated herself when it was Henry
she detested. Success is measured in obstacles overcome and not conquests and treasures.
Chloe shuddered, threw water on her face, stepped outside. 19 years since a post-card; 19 years receiving them in all. Chloe assumes her 'friend' is
dead, along with the witches bridle, he left buried in her head.