SISTERS
Samantha took a leisurely pull at her second cigarette, thinking how happy she was with life. Her younger sister Tracey had come to live with her because her father, an engineer, had accepted a long term contract in Bahrain and so a home had to be found for his little princess. Samantha had resented Tracey all the time the two were growing up, she felt Tracey was always the favourite but now she had the chance for her revenge.
Tracey was bent over the bed, knickers down, waiting for her older sister to take her horrible strap and sting her bottom. The strap was almost identical to the one her father used on them, admittedly far more frequently on Samantha. She hated her older sister with a passion now. Every day it was “Have you done this? Why is the laundry not done? Can’t you see that dust you left? Don’t forget to make the beds” And for every mistake she knew she would get a whack with the strap on Saturday morning when, she thought bitterly, Samantha could take her sweet time.
Samantha liked to draw out the moment, and also introduce some formality to it. She instituted a system where the week was started with one full and one empty box of matches. For every offence a match was taken from the full box and placed in the empty one. Then before Tracey was strapped the matches used were neatly lined up in front of her and after each stroke she had to take one and replace it again in its original box.
As bad as that was the lecturing she got as her sister unhurriedly lifted the strap time after time to bring it down and welt her bare cheeks. Last week had been 28, and this week she knew without counting the matches it would be more this Saturday. She stayed over the bed both wanting and dreading the moment her sister would finish the cigarette
Samantha took a leisurely pull at her second cigarette, thinking how happy she was with life. Her younger sister Tracey had come to live with her because her father, an engineer, had accepted a long term contract in Bahrain and so a home had to be found for his little princess. Samantha had resented Tracey all the time the two were growing up, she felt Tracey was always the favourite but now she had the chance for her revenge.
Tracey was bent over the bed, knickers down, waiting for her older sister to take her horrible strap and sting her bottom. The strap was almost identical to the one her father used on them, admittedly far more frequently on Samantha. She hated her older sister with a passion now. Every day it was “Have you done this? Why is the laundry not done? Can’t you see that dust you left? Don’t forget to make the beds” And for every mistake she knew she would get a whack with the strap on Saturday morning when, she thought bitterly, Samantha could take her sweet time.
Samantha liked to draw out the moment, and also introduce some formality to it. She instituted a system where the week was started with one full and one empty box of matches. For every offence a match was taken from the full box and placed in the empty one. Then before Tracey was strapped the matches used were neatly lined up in front of her and after each stroke she had to take one and replace it again in its original box.
As bad as that was the lecturing she got as her sister unhurriedly lifted the strap time after time to bring it down and welt her bare cheeks. Last week had been 28, and this week she knew without counting the matches it would be more this Saturday. She stayed over the bed both wanting and dreading the moment her sister would finish the cigarette