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Looking at those bright starry eyes of my little angel, I could forget all the trouble for a few moments, her exuberance was infectious. For a few precious moments I could forget the debts, the sleepless nights, the rejection letters from countless job applications. The sad little eyes when we passed something in the supermarket that she liked, but I couldn’t afford. She was a great kid though, never complained about that, was very mature for her age. However, her sadness was getting to me, eating me from the inside. At least she would get some sweets, even that I couldn’t afford lately. I felt exhausted. If it wasn’t for her, I would probably not even get out of bed in the morning. Sharon and a few of my other friends tried to get me out of the house and occasionally attempted to set me up with someone, but I squirmed out of dates and appointments, incapable of focusing on myself, of allowing myself to escape that shambles of a life I desperately tried to keep together. The kids. Dinner was over and he still hadn’t said anything else about what he planned to do. I wasn’t sure, but I had the feeling he was watching me the whole time I did the dishes, instead of reading the paper like he usually did. But as soon as I finished, he walked over to the table, and now he was staring at me. He picked up a kitchen chair and carried it very deliberately to the middle of the room, set it down right in front of the fireplace, and said, in a kind of funny voice, “Get yourself over here, young lady.” He indicated a spot in front of the chair. But once I was there, he pulled me even closer, so I was standing right between his knees. Then, sounding a lot like a preacher, he told me it was his responsibility to make sure I grew up “pure,” and he started praying out loud for God’s help. I couldn’t tell if he wanted it for himself or for me, but it went on a long time. Finally he tried to unfasten my jeans, but he was so clumsy at it that I reached over and undid the side for.
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