Funny how staring out that tiny window into the clouds and that distant shine of a pompous sun reminded her of the flight of Icarus. It was almost like a sense of foreboding. She tried to dismiss it with a slight shake of her head. She didn't need this, not today. Today was a day to rejoice. She had felt a curious sense of exhilaration since she had embarked on the flight; she liked it. Amusing though, that she thought of Icarus. She had been fascinated by myths, mythologies, legends, just about anything fantastic ever since she was 12. And Greek mythology had been her favourite by far. But somehow her connect to it was bittersweet. The adventures of the Gods, the heroes,the titans, they were a mesmerizing escape. But as she grew up, some of the myths and legends she began to relate with, somethings she'd rather not think about.
She got up and walked down the aisle to the washroom. A cousin had advised her to get up, walk, flex her muscles every hour or two during the flight. She glanced at the other passengers along the way; the young mother with a toddler; a girl with so many piercings on her face, she couldn't count them all in her glance, the really old couple, that man with the most startling shade of red hair, she wondered what their lives were like. She would have loved to know their stories. In another world, the old couple could have been Baucis and Philemon, the girl with the piercing could have been Cassandra perhaps. She, well often in her daydreams she'd imagined herself to be Aphrodite, but then they were just a 12 year old's fancy. Her father, now he was like Zeus. No, not for his strength or his greatness, but for his capability to sleep with pretty much anything that moved. She should know better than most.
The last ten years had been such a blur. In her attempt to block the real, she had quite forgotten what she had lived and what she had dreamt. The first time though was vividly clear in her memories. She had been a little over 12. Her first periods brought her mixed feelings. She had heard friends say how painful it was and how icky; and how one felt so irritated during those days. Her own first experience hadn't been quite so painful, though she rather did find it a little gross. But she was also a little excited. She was finally growing into a woman; maybe mom would let her wear lipstick now and buy heels.
And then it happened, not more than a week after her entry into womanhood. She had already fallen asleep, when a big, hard hand caressed up her leg, waking her up. She remembered how the look on her father's face had scared her, made her wonder if she was about to be punished for something wrong. She remembered the colour of his shirt, the stench of smoke on his shirt, she remembered every single detail of that night. She remembered how it had hurt. she remembered how her father had told her that she had done a very wrong thing, and would be punished if she told anyone. But she couldn't remember if it had only been a nightmare, a nightmare she had had very often since then for the next decade of her life.
Four years ago she had dared to mention it to her mother. Her mother just accused her of being a whore and forbade her to ever open her mouth about it. Father had been right when he'd said she'd be punished if she spoke about this. She had a feeling her mother had known this for some time but was trying to shift her guilt of the knowledge upon her daughter. The thought did not upset her. She had resigned to her fate long ago; learnt early that it hurt less when you didn't struggle. Anyway, all that would change now. She had finally got her visa and would join her husband abroad. She would start a new life. She had finally escaped her nightmare. As relief crept in, she slowly fell asleep.
She got up and walked down the aisle to the washroom. A cousin had advised her to get up, walk, flex her muscles every hour or two during the flight. She glanced at the other passengers along the way; the young mother with a toddler; a girl with so many piercings on her face, she couldn't count them all in her glance, the really old couple, that man with the most startling shade of red hair, she wondered what their lives were like. She would have loved to know their stories. In another world, the old couple could have been Baucis and Philemon, the girl with the piercing could have been Cassandra perhaps. She, well often in her daydreams she'd imagined herself to be Aphrodite, but then they were just a 12 year old's fancy. Her father, now he was like Zeus. No, not for his strength or his greatness, but for his capability to sleep with pretty much anything that moved. She should know better than most.
The last ten years had been such a blur. In her attempt to block the real, she had quite forgotten what she had lived and what she had dreamt. The first time though was vividly clear in her memories. She had been a little over 12. Her first periods brought her mixed feelings. She had heard friends say how painful it was and how icky; and how one felt so irritated during those days. Her own first experience hadn't been quite so painful, though she rather did find it a little gross. But she was also a little excited. She was finally growing into a woman; maybe mom would let her wear lipstick now and buy heels.
And then it happened, not more than a week after her entry into womanhood. She had already fallen asleep, when a big, hard hand caressed up her leg, waking her up. She remembered how the look on her father's face had scared her, made her wonder if she was about to be punished for something wrong. She remembered the colour of his shirt, the stench of smoke on his shirt, she remembered every single detail of that night. She remembered how it had hurt. she remembered how her father had told her that she had done a very wrong thing, and would be punished if she told anyone. But she couldn't remember if it had only been a nightmare, a nightmare she had had very often since then for the next decade of her life.
Four years ago she had dared to mention it to her mother. Her mother just accused her of being a whore and forbade her to ever open her mouth about it. Father had been right when he'd said she'd be punished if she spoke about this. She had a feeling her mother had known this for some time but was trying to shift her guilt of the knowledge upon her daughter. The thought did not upset her. She had resigned to her fate long ago; learnt early that it hurt less when you didn't struggle. Anyway, all that would change now. She had finally got her visa and would join her husband abroad. She would start a new life. She had finally escaped her nightmare. As relief crept in, she slowly fell asleep.
***
She walked into her new bedroom in relief. This was the first time, since the wedding a month ago, they were alone: no father, no fears. He was already in bed. She walked to the bathroom, freshened up and changed into a satin negligee thinking nothing of it. It was a few moments after she came out of the bathroom that she noticed that look on his face. She realized why she had thought of Icarus earlier that day.