8. Orla

CHAPTER 8

Ilisten intently to the sound of the diesel engine roaring off, growing faint the farther away it got until I was sure they were gone. I realize that I've been holding my breath and start gasping and crying. Until I'm absolutely sure they're gone, I don't believe or dream in the process of allowing myself the relief. They could, at the last moment, decide to turn back and lock me in the box to await their return. They could devise some new and cruel method of torture for my time alone. I've learned not to take these moments of solitude in this room for granted. I think back to my life before all this happened and I miss all the simple things i got to enjoy. Then- I miss the freedom of being able to stay up in the middle of the night whether it be watching bad tv or scrounging around in my refrigerator. The feel of bare feet on the carpet and the freedom to choose what and when of my life. Missing the children at the school where I was a first-grade teacher and The life I had built for myself. That would have nothing to do with my father's corrupted world. That I wasn't Ray Imperiali's daughter or a criminal's daughter -I was just Orla or Ms Tucker to my students. Because to feeling so wholesome and free of the bloodshed my family enjoyed more than myself. I took my grandmother's maiden name because it seemed so wholesome and free of the blood that had been shed for the life my family enjoyed. I try to bring my thoughts back to the present, but the anxiety that comes with it also makes me wonder how brief this vacation is going to be. It's too much for me to not to overthink the outcome. So, I go back to Elmwood Elementary and the school concert that I would have been responsible for this year. Most of the teachers dread being put in charge of it, but it was the best day of my life when the principal told me I would be in charge of it this time. I even chose the theme for this year's show, it's Tales of Old. A celebration of old fashioned storytelling with music and fairytales. It would have been wonderful, but it's now a far-off dream while I live this nightmare.

I've already showered for the day, as I walk down the street my thoughts have diminished. It would feel nice to submerge myself in the water to just feel safe in the comfort of the warmth. So with no hope, I have to hold onto my little moments for the time I've got to myself. I turn the faucets and open the cupboards in hope of finding something that resembles a bubble bath. Any little treat to just feel human again. My dinner is delivered to me while I'm in the bath. I could not find anything to add to the hot water and prohibited from asking for anything. I just made do with shower gel and the flimsy bubbles it's created. It's not much, it isn't what I have come to think of for this time to myself. I've learned to just take any small blessing or mercy. I wonder if that's the plan that these two have for me. To take me to have me stay until the point of Stockholm Syndrome or personalities that could come off as a needy and cloying simp. Just there for them to use me like a piece of Kleenex and be grateful for it because at least I'm not being tortured or confined. Grateful to be alive and breathing in this corrupted world they live in. I never thought I'd become the girl who says, " Yes sir, No sir, and Thank you sir," to men that treat women like a speck of dirt. I love both my parents despite the ups and downs I went through with my mother as I defied them at every turn. Rejected their plans for my life. My father accepted it, but my mother didn't allow it. It wasn't the defiance of their expectations, but my father's growing respect for my need to forge my own path. I realized early on that my mother saw me as her competition as we both wanted my father's affection and respect of how I lived my life just to make it worse. The same way Alex sees me, even though he has no need to and possibly doesn't even know he does. Then then I made my own decision to start my life the way I wanted to and it was all fine in the end. Everyone was happy, and I thought I'd finally found my lane. I thought I was finally free, but we're never ever really free of our parents' sins. The tentacles of their life found me and dragged me back to pay. I may not have been responsible for my father's dealings but that didn't leave me feeling confident. I was an unwilling beneficiary of its outcome which led to everyone else ponying up when the bill came. The water has since then cooled, while I can choose to add more hot water and prolonging this time or go to my room. Or to my room where I can have supper and sleep for as long as I want to for the time I'm allowed.

I decide to go with the next level up on the bath, to burn away the holes Kase caused me with the device he had around my neck the night before. For a moment I'd forgotten, but now the pain pushes me back to my reality and I feel a sudden urgency to get out of the bath and into bed. I wrap myself in a warm terrycloth robe and go and see what I've been given for dinner. Whoever prepares dinner always goes out of their way to add a little treat or flourish that makes the meal an event. I don't know how much they know or suspect, but even if it's a little kindness, I cherish it. Tonight, there's a black and white cookie with dinner. Hidden in the lid covering the food, and I inhaled it. It's been so long since I could simply walk down to the coffee shop near my apartment and order one. I sip the champagne and dig into the steak and vegetables that's been prepared. I eat like a prisoner, fresh out of solitary confinement. When I'm done, I look for something to write with and scribble a thank you on a piece of paper and put it on the plate. I know I'm risking a lot, but I doubt if Kase or Alex ever clear a plate or tray. Thinking about them depresses me and although I estimate that they haven't been gone that long, I still don't want to waste valuable time that I could use to try to get some sleep. I don't want to become accustomed to sleeping in the box, so I use every opportunity to retain some normalcy. I know at some point I will get out, wanting to be able to go back to my life. I may not be able to live that way without waking up in the middle of the night screaming or having trouble sleeping in a bed.

Iput the tray outside my door as I've been told to do to minimize my interaction with the staff and turn off the light. Opening the shades so that I can fall asleep while watching the night sky and the moonlight play on the grass outside. I hear the tray being cleared as I slowly drift off to sleep.