bridged Cedarvale Park, peered over the handrail into the yawning blackness below. I had no idea who could be lingering there, hidden among the vast stands of bare trees, perhaps even observing me with the telescopic lens of a camera. I giggled nervously. I was getting paranoid, still seeing phantoms and ghosts. Of course there was no one there and even if there were, how would he be able to reach me from so far below anyways? The overpass I was standing on was several metres above the park, spanning over the greenery.
I continued onwards, wishing my heart would pound a little less urgently. A chill current wrapped itself about me and my breath turned into vapour on my lips. I shivered, hugging the bag of still-steaming boxes against me for warmth. Only a little ways further now. Holy Blossom Temple with its modern, taupe-coloured concrete walls, loomed to my left. I could see the lights of Eglinton straight ahead. Not a hundred metres from me. I quickened my pace.
And then it happened.
That dark, amorphous shape I’d been glimpsing out of the corners of my eyes all the way suddenly took form and solidity and turned into something real and dangerous. Something that charged into me from behind some bushes, barrelling itself against me with all its overpowering weight, slamming me crudely to the ground. Whoever he was, he pounded my head against the concrete paving with brute force, knocking the wind out of me. Mr. Leong’s boxes flew from my hand and scattered all over the sidewalk in disarray. My head throbbed and I started to see stars. Vaguely, I could feel sharp pebbles grinding into the palms of my hands.
“You shouldn’t be bumming about so late at night all by yourself, whore,” the voice hissed at me in my ear – slimy, slithery, inhuman. “Lots of crazies out there, Annasuya Rose. No wonder you got screwed. Decent ladies stay inside late at night.”
The dark shape picked itself off me and took off down the street. I barely had the wits to glimpse a black ski mask and army fatigues before it rounded a corner and disappeared.
I bolted the remaining distance to my home, our dinner forgotten on the sidewalk, and spent the rest of the night crying in Calvin’s arms.
Chapter 11
Brionna was scratching at my cheeks, clawing at them with her tapered two-inch nails, really gouging at them hard, ripping out bits of tender flesh. I was bawling like a baby, because at the age of six I still didn’t know how to control my emotions and maintain that passionless, ice-cold demeanour I would later develop.
We scuffled in the grass in our back yard. Brionna straddled me and banged my head against the dirt, really bashed away like she meant to kill me.
“You’ll do what I tell you, li’l bro, cos I’m the oldest,” she shrilled at me between gritted teeth. “If you dare to disobey me, this is what’ll be waiting for you.”
She fingered a baseball bat lying by her side suggestively.
“I’m a mean batter at school,” she continued. “But I know how to use that thing for more than just baseball. You gonna do what I say now, Bruno?”
I nodded, quivering and terrified. Brionna got up off me and wiped her hands together with a grin of self-satisfaction.
“Good, li’l bro. I’m glad we understand each other.”
She picked up our father’s hunting rifle and tossed it over her shoulder with one hand while she held the other hand out towards me, curling her fingers invitingly and patting my grubby little palm with loving strokes. Ha! As if she really cared about me.
We hopped aboard a bus and sped out to the open countryside. I gazed out the window with my nose pressed against the glass, trying to catch in all the sights with avidity because we rarely ever went anywhere. Momma was always too busy with her three jobs to take us anywhere, and Dad spent most of his nights and weekends drunk out of his mind on the sofa. We got off in some sort of field with lots of trees, and Brionna
I continued onwards, wishing my heart would pound a little less urgently. A chill current wrapped itself about me and my breath turned into vapour on my lips. I shivered, hugging the bag of still-steaming boxes against me for warmth. Only a little ways further now. Holy Blossom Temple with its modern, taupe-coloured concrete walls, loomed to my left. I could see the lights of Eglinton straight ahead. Not a hundred metres from me. I quickened my pace.
And then it happened.
That dark, amorphous shape I’d been glimpsing out of the corners of my eyes all the way suddenly took form and solidity and turned into something real and dangerous. Something that charged into me from behind some bushes, barrelling itself against me with all its overpowering weight, slamming me crudely to the ground. Whoever he was, he pounded my head against the concrete paving with brute force, knocking the wind out of me. Mr. Leong’s boxes flew from my hand and scattered all over the sidewalk in disarray. My head throbbed and I started to see stars. Vaguely, I could feel sharp pebbles grinding into the palms of my hands.
“You shouldn’t be bumming about so late at night all by yourself, whore,” the voice hissed at me in my ear – slimy, slithery, inhuman. “Lots of crazies out there, Annasuya Rose. No wonder you got screwed. Decent ladies stay inside late at night.”
The dark shape picked itself off me and took off down the street. I barely had the wits to glimpse a black ski mask and army fatigues before it rounded a corner and disappeared.
I bolted the remaining distance to my home, our dinner forgotten on the sidewalk, and spent the rest of the night crying in Calvin’s arms.
Chapter 11
Brionna was scratching at my cheeks, clawing at them with her tapered two-inch nails, really gouging at them hard, ripping out bits of tender flesh. I was bawling like a baby, because at the age of six I still didn’t know how to control my emotions and maintain that passionless, ice-cold demeanour I would later develop.
We scuffled in the grass in our back yard. Brionna straddled me and banged my head against the dirt, really bashed away like she meant to kill me.
“You’ll do what I tell you, li’l bro, cos I’m the oldest,” she shrilled at me between gritted teeth. “If you dare to disobey me, this is what’ll be waiting for you.”
She fingered a baseball bat lying by her side suggestively.
“I’m a mean batter at school,” she continued. “But I know how to use that thing for more than just baseball. You gonna do what I say now, Bruno?”
I nodded, quivering and terrified. Brionna got up off me and wiped her hands together with a grin of self-satisfaction.
“Good, li’l bro. I’m glad we understand each other.”
She picked up our father’s hunting rifle and tossed it over her shoulder with one hand while she held the other hand out towards me, curling her fingers invitingly and patting my grubby little palm with loving strokes. Ha! As if she really cared about me.
We hopped aboard a bus and sped out to the open countryside. I gazed out the window with my nose pressed against the glass, trying to catch in all the sights with avidity because we rarely ever went anywhere. Momma was always too busy with her three jobs to take us anywhere, and Dad spent most of his nights and weekends drunk out of his mind on the sofa. We got off in some sort of field with lots of trees, and Brionna
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