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The Truth of Consequences (Rear Window addendum)

 
Silja Henningsdottir's picture
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The room was clean and tidy but basic. Silja threw her rucksack on the bed then sat herself on the end. She let the dam burst. She finally let herself cry more than she ever cried in her entire life. Even more than when her mother died, but then she was only eight. That was different, a sort of numbness where she allowed the adults around her take her away from the stinking room where Momma had died, an emaciated worn out husk of her former beautiful self who had lost the fight.

 

In many respects even at age eight, Silja saw her Momma’s death coming a long way off even though her child’s mind always hoped otherwise.

 

But this was different, completely out of the blue. Silja’s happy existence had almost been torn apart and the worst part was it was her fault. Silja lay on the bed and sobbed herself into a fitful sleep.

 

“Chris Fucking Anson.”

 

She had played games with many boys. Flirting, teasing, but always kept them at arms length. She enjoyed male company but never wanted to let things get beyond long wet kisses and sometimes she even allowed then a little fumble.

But that’s how Silja liked to be. A hummingbird. Bright, tantalising and impossible to catch.

 

That was of course until Chris fucking Anson came into her life. He was handsome, his beguiling eyes, his athletic build. She had no idea why but she saw him and something inside her clicked. He charmed, he swept her off her feet. She loved him deeply, she gave him her special gift.

 

But he was using her. The bastard used her. He let her tell him everything about her job, Anneka, The Spivey’s. The party.

 

Silja rolled out of the bed and padded her way naked to the bathroom mirror. She looked deeply at herself. The crying had stopped, It had been replaced in between short moments of sleep by hatred for the bastard Anson. Now the hate had been pushed out by sincere regret. She had put Anneka in harms way, whether it was through naivety or carelessness did not matter, it had happened and it was unforgivable.

 

But it would never happen again. Never.

 

The sun was not risen yet but the light of the new day was starting to fill the sky. Silja pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She laced up her running shoes. Five, ten, fifteen kilometres passed under her feet. She left, somewhere behind, the part of herself that up until a couple of days ago was her biggest weakness, the Silja who believed herself and everything to be inviolable, unassailable.

 

She paused for a moment at the edge Credit Bend. The dusty road arrowed to the motel. But she saw more than that. Anneka, Joe, Kirsten. Her future. Especially Anneka

 

Kirsten had told her to take a few days off. She had left Silja in no doubt that her actions had brought real danger to the family. But Kirsten also knew that Silja was guiltless and was probably suffering more than any of them. She could have dismissed her there and then but she and Joe had decided not to.

 

Silja took a drink from her water bottle and walked towards her room at the hotel. She would take the few days off. She had not been able to keep her mother alive and she had carried that sense of failure deep inside her all her life.

 

But no longer. Her life was now with Anneka and the Spivey’s. She had let them down, once, but never again.

 

Jack Leander stood behind the bar, polishing glasses and watching the street outside as he always did. He wondered about the young skinny girl who had arrived a few days ago with red eyes, looking like she was about to burst into tears. He had watched her the last few days, how three times a day she came down the outside stairs from her room in a black t-shirt, red shorts and white running shoes. How she ran for an hour or two then returned, never coming through the foyer or bar, just up the stairs. She had taken only room-service meals.

 

Now as she checked out of the motel. Jack saw a much leaner, stronger young lady. The dreadlocks had gone, her eyes were clear and blue. Her body was still youthfully feminine but now more taut, strong. Jack smiled as he gave the receipt.

 

“Have a nice day!”

 

She didn’t smile, Only a steely look with the barest smirk.

 

 

“Þakka þér fyrir”

Comments

Joe Spivey's picture

It must be September in FE land. Every time my life has changed dramatically it has been in September. Usually they have not been good changes, somethimes, but not often. If Silja's life is to change, I hope with all my heart that it is for the better because she is too nice a character for more heartache.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

 

She let the dam burst


pic 1



The dreadlocks had gone, her eyes were clear and blue. Her body was still youthfully feminine but now more taut, strong.


pic 2



(the customary pictures.. :) )



I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Joe Spivey's picture

Are those silk or lame shorts? On her wages? lol

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

hand downs from Kirsten, naturligt. 

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Hyle Troy's picture

Slija fumbles for the key in her purse, feeling anxious about what kind of welcome awaits her.

home

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Joe Spivey's picture

((Love that outfit. Very Silja.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

 

Nobody was more happy than Anneka

 

home

 

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Hyle Troy's picture

Silja was feeling relieved It was clear that everyone in the household was glad to see her back, even Joe. 

Ok, So Joes welcome consisted of a sideways comment. Asking whether or not her former dreadlocks had taken on sentience and set off on thier own vacation. And what had happened to the family of mice who lived in there. But, under Joe's usual 'Bulldog-licking-piss-off-a-nettle' visage there was a glimmer of a smile. Kirsten confided some time later that despite loss of earnings, loss of pub-time and increased childcare time, Joe was genuinely happy to see Silja returned safe.

For herself, Kirsten hugged Silja, Her hand held onto Silja's hand warmly for a few seconds while she held her gaze. There was a lot of sympathy in her eyes. Kirsten smiled softly and nodded, eliciting a nod in return from Silja. All was well. The exchanged glances said so many words.

Indeed everyone noticed a change in Silja. None more so than Anneka,...

 

change

 

 

 

 

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Joe Spivey's picture

((The little story that grew, eh :D The illustrations worked well too.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

 

 

Kirsten

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Joe Spivey's picture

*Joe lifts his eyes from the receipt. "Very nice my sweet." He says, managing to maintain a smile.*

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.



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