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Message-ID: <42593asstr$1053691806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 22 May 2003 22:04:44 -0500
From: Rachael Ross <rache18us@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} choo-choo girls (rache18us@yahoo.com) M/ff, incest, nc, sad
Date: Fri, 23 May 2003 08:10:06 -0400
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Disclaimer: This is a story I wrote. It may be used in part or whole
on any non-commercial media to which the general public may reasonably
expect access without financial burden. Please credit the author where
appropriate and include her in your evening prayers... I think I need
help with the Big Guy upstairs. You Buddhist, just light a candle, ok?
Thanks. ...Minors may read this, although it contains adult situations
and themes, involving minors. It confuses me too.

Written in Manila, Philippines in 2002

I don't really have a title for this. "Choo-Choo Girls" is my working
title and sometimes I like it, sometimes I don't. If you have a better
one, email me. Thanks. 

-------------------------------------------------

Choo-Choo Girls
by Rachael

The Burlington-Northern runs past my yard, up on the raised gravel
bed. It goes slow here, west to east and the other way too. But
especially up the long steep hill out of town, going east where the
world is hungry for oil and cars and lumber. I listened to it rumbling
past the night my father came into my room for the last time. I put
myself on it and watched my little house go by, dark and silent and
meaningless, like all the other little homes. Swallowed up by that
rush of wind and and deep-throated diesel roar; it carried me far, far
away.

I couldn't get up. So after he was done I just curled up, I hugged
myself and rocked myself until Emily got out of her bed and came over
to mine. She got under the covers and put her little arms around me
and let me cry. She brushed my hair and kissed it and tried to tell me
it was okay. That he was gone. But we both knew he wasn't really gone.
He was always with us, every minute. Like a ghost, I could still feel
him inside me. And I ran to the bathroom to wash him out. But It
wasn't any use, it never was, I couldn't wash him away with all the
soap in the world.

Emily opened the door and pulled me out of the bathtub. She'd been
crying too, I could tell. I stood there and let her dry me off, and we
went back to our room, into her clean bed. I told her about the train,
I whispered it as if he might hear us somehow. I told her that I'd
been on it, that he hadn't touched me. not really, not me. I was on
the train and there was a wind, and a deep growl that filled the air
and the soft click-clack of the rails beneath me. I was free, I was
watching everything go past and nothing could catch me. Not even him.

Emily told me it was a nice dream. That trains were big and strong and
went far away. She always understands and I hugged her tightly until
we both fell asleep.

The next night he came again. I pushed myself against the wall, trying
to be so little he couldn't see me. I pulled my blanket up and put my
pillow over my head and made soft sleeping sounds. He wouldn't bother
me, he wouldn't touch me if I was asleep I told myself. I shivered and
waited and I heard his feet and I wanted to cry and scream and run
away. But I didn't. I just laid there.

It was Emily's turn. Little Emily who was so strong for me. So brave
and strong. She called him Daddy and said she had a bad dream. Her
voice was shaking and I felt the hot water in my eyes and I hated it.
I couldn't move though I tried, I swear, i tried to get up and tell
her to be quiet. But I didn't, I just laid there and cried and thanked
god that it wasn't me again. And that made it worse.

I heard the bed moving, the little springs being squeezed when he got
on Emily's bed. And I heard her muffled voice saying no daddy and
please daddy and I had my eyes closed tight. I held my breath and
listened for the train and it was coming. I heard the engines like
thunder a long way off and I wanted it to hurry. To come soon, to take
Emily with it, away from here. She was crying and I wanted to plug my
ears, but I couldn't, I had to listen for the train. I had to help her
find it.

Emily was screaming, he was bad tonight. He was angry because it was
Emily and not me, because she'd been awake when she should have been
sleeping. I heard him cursing her, telling her to keep quiet. But
emily wasn't listening, she isn't big like me, she's so small and he
was hurting her. I had to say something, I told her to get on the
train. Get on the train Emily, go away and don't look back. 

the end

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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