herself repeatedly to the edge of climax. She increases the vibration, escalates its rhythmic use and continues, almost in frenzy. Tomorrow she will be raw and sore, but that does not stop her. Faster and faster she pumps until she is dizzy with delight.
The inevitable orgasm approaches and she tenses with anticipation. Her heart rate increases. Her breathing becomes heavier. Her stroking more frantic. She is like a wild animal driven by primitive instinct, unable to stop herself. Her need to climax supersedes all else. The sensation is both excruciating and extreme. Never wanting it to cease, she propels herself further into oblivion.
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, my fucking God!” she repeats through guttural moans and sighs in a near sacred chant. Unable to pull herself back from the edge this time, she allows herself to climax. The sensation explodes throughout her body, causing her to reverberate uncontrollably. Still she cannot stop. When she becomes so sensitive that it hurts, she gently continues on. As she attempts to cry out to her God, Sally begins stuttering just before she reaches her second body-wrenching orgasm.
Exhausted, spent, she leans back, as though a troublesome weight has been placed upon her, and feels herself slipping into that threatening pit known as her past. She offers no resistance, knowing that fighting is futile. She has to surrender herself to the memories, observe them, relive them, mourn them and release them. In blind allegiance, she closes her eyes and allows the images to pass freely through her mind. They flood her consciousness and cause her body to shake from their reality.
* * * * *
Sally, age seven, boldly advances to secretly view them. They are fighting again, but then, they always fight.
Why can’t they get along? Can’t even go three days without a blow-up.
Recently, however, the disagreements have been escalating in frequency and intensity. Sally is uncomfortable with the things her parents now commonly say to one another.
Don’t they know? The name-calling and fights—they scare me. Don’t they care?
Sally is aware that her home life is far from normal and longs to have the life of other kids. In an attempt to experience this normalcy, she craves a sleepover with her best friend, Julie Anders, and approaches her mother. “Ma, can Julie spend the night?”
Her mother begins to stammer, “Oh, gee…honey…I don’t know if that’s…such a good idea. You know how your father can get….”
“I know. You won’t even know she’s here,” Sally continues.
“Pleeease! We’ll stay in my room and be as quiet as mice.”
Her mother sighs. “Oh, all right, but only if you promise to stay out of your father’s way. We don’t want him getting agitated.”
Sally rushes to her mother and gives her a hug. “Thank you, Ma!
We’ll be perfect angels, you’ll see.”
Sally hopes that her parents will behave. She even times the sleepover for the day after an argument, thinking her parents might be too weary from battling the night before to begin another episode.
True to her word, Sally and Julie are well behaved. Her parents try to make the sleepover a success. The girls are in Sally’s room when they hear her father call, “Does anyone want some of my special popcorn?”
Sally’s eyes light up as she scrambles out of her room, calling over her shoulder, “Come on, Julie. My daddy makes the best popcorn in the world! You’re gonna love it.”
The girls run to the kitchen, where they watch Sally’s father work his magic. They marvel at how he patiently waits until the oil heats to just the right temperature before gently pouring in the corn kernels.
They begin to pop as he skillfully shakes the pan back and forth over the burner. Giggling, Sally exclaims, “Oh, look, Julie. They’re bursting into fluffy white clouds.”
Julie closes her eyes and inhales. “Mmm…. It smells wonderful!”
Sally’s dad really works his magic. No one can add melted butter to popcorn like he can. Others either make the popcorn soggy or the butter is not heated enough and leaves salty lumps of un-melted butter on the kernels.
“Watch this,” Sally says. “It’s the best part, Julie. My daddy does this perfect—every time.”
They marvel as he drizzles hot melted butter over the popcorn, and then gently tosses it in the bowl. Smiling, he hands the freshly popped treat to his daughter. “There you go. Now see if that isn’t the best– tasting popcorn you’ve ever had.”
Sally’s heart soars. Her father loves her. He is not a bad guy— just has a nasty temper. Happily, she accepts the bowl, pops one of the fluffy buttery morsels into her mouth and comments, “Mmm, it’s delicious, Daddy!”
Sally gives her dad a hug and then skips off to her room with Julie, where they nibble their treat. They enjoy their sleepover, listen to music and munch on their snack for quite awhile before Sally hears the definitive elevated voices of her parents, indicating the onset of an argument. She gets up and, in an effort to drown out the inevitable sounds, nonchalantly increases the volume of her stereo, stating, “I love this song!”
An argument breaks out—a bad one. The raised voices of both her parents can be heard despite the music. Julie becomes upset.
“Sally, I want to go home!”
“Don’t leave. They’re just fighting. They’ll stop soon.”
Sally manages to convince Julie to stay a bit longer, but soon her father’s raised voice and the anxiety in her mother’s prove too much. Julie, seeking the safety of her own house, goes home before the hitting begins. That is the last time Sally invites a friend to spend the night.
That’s it! I’m sticking to spending the night at my friends’ houses.
Their parents know how to behave.
Sally is angry and harbors many hateful thoughts towards her parents.
Why don’t they just grow up? Other kids’ parents get along, why can’t mine?
At times, Sally seriously questions who is more mature, her and her younger brother, Eric, or them.
Not all of her childhood is bad. In between their parents’ fights, she and her brother live a relatively happy life. Running with the “pack” of kids from their neighborhood, they hurdle over split-rail fences, climb mature trees and scale chain-link barriers, as a shortcut to the street behind them. They live in Covina, California in one of the post-war houses that are evenly spaced up and down the tree-lined streets—a perfect Mayberry town. One can almost imagine Sheriff Taylor and Barney Fife waltzing out of the police station at any given moment while Aunt Bee calls them in for a slice of homemade pie. People leave their doors unlocked and attend church faithfully. Conformity is each community member’s number one priority. It is the mid 1970s, when neighborhood kids play outside in large groups until the streetlights come on.
Sally and Eric love being physical. They run and play hard every day. Excelling at physical activity, they dominate their peers whether playing a game of freeze tag, roller-skating,
