Unspoken - Kiss of the Wolf Spider, Part I by Sharianne Bailey Page A

Quickly I grabbed the tablets and furious, I went to bath. It
was freezing and uncomfortable but I stayed in the water a long time. I had to
start my period so I could get back to school. I lay there, willing it to come,
pleading with God to make my body work properly and to make the pills somehow
fix me.
    I wasted most of the next
two days watching TV, and staring at the ceiling in my room or freezing to
death in a cold bath. I started to get a cold and sore throat but did the
bathing thing several times a day anyway.
    Monday 27 March 1989
    At last my period has
started and I can go back to school. I never thought I would be glad to have
it. But it is very, very sore and the blood is pouring out. There are also
thick lumps in it. I’m lying in bed with a hot water bottle now and have the
worst stomach cramps of my life. I feel like I am going to die from pain.  I
don’t know how much more of this ! can take.
     And I’m missing my
friends at school.
    I heard soft footsteps
outside the door and I tucked the diary away. Dad came in and half smiled.
    “Dad what have those
tablets done to me and who gave them to you? They are killing me. My stomach
hurts so much,” I complained.
     “I got them from a
friend, he’s a sort of doctor,” Dad answered.  “I told him you’d slept with
your boyfriend and we thought you were pregnant, and I asked him to help us
out. He does that sort of thing. He helps people.  He said those pills would
start your period again and they have. See! Dad always sorts out your
problems!”
    He sat next to me on the
bed, and patted my shoulder gently. “You can take these Paracetamol tablets for
the pain,” he said.  I was confused but really needed the kindness. “Now, Jane
there is something else you must do for me,” he said suddenly. “I want you to
tell Joanne you lied about the rape.”
    “What?”
    “I said tell her you
lied.” He was changing from kind to irate.
    “Why?” I was immobilised. 
    “Because I say so; she
still wants to tell the police.”
    “But she’ll scream at me …
she’ll hit me … she’ll kill me!”
    “I won’t let her kill you.
Just tell her. And ignore her screaming.”  He left the room but turned back at
the door and looked hard at me. “Go and tell her. Now!” That tone again. He
shut the door and left.
    I was in absolute torment
but climbed weakly off the bed, clutching the hot water bottle and wandered
dizzily through the house till I found Joanne in the baby’s room as usual. I
didn’t knock, resigned now to the fact that she was going to kill me anyway.
    “Joanne …” I waited for
Joanne to look at me while I looked down at my feet, trying to steady my nerves.
“Remember I told you I was raped by those two black boys? You said I had to
think carefully about my story. Okay, I lied. Sorry.” I held my breath and
waited for all hell to break loose.
    There was just white hot silence
while Joanne turned an outrageous burgundy. “You what?” She hissed like an
angry volcano building up pressure and slowly she picked up a child’s
hairbrush.
    I prepared to duck when
the brush become a flying missile. “I lied. I’m sorry.”
    “Have you told your father
yet?” The ice in her voice scared me even more than screaming would have.
Joanne’s knuckles were turning as white as the little hair brush she was
holding.
    “No.” I shook my head,
ashamed at the proficiency of my lies. I continued looking at my feet as tears
dripped onto my toes.
    “Go to your room.” She
spat out the words like snake venom. “I cannot believe I’m hearing this. Just
get out of my sight.”
    As I left the room, Joanne
exploded into the passage yelling my father’s name with toxic fury.
    I ran to my room, my
haven, my prison. Slamming the door, I hurled myself onto the bed and beat it
to death with my fists and feet, screaming into the pillows at the cruelty of
the world around me.
    I heard the muffled sound
of loud angry voices that seemed to yell and