Chapter Text
We didn't have many girls in the family, or at least many that stayed.
Great Aunt Carla left after having a third son, Grandma Hattie killed her daughter and then herself, cousin Sheila fled across the country after escaping, too.
I can't blame them. It's gotta be hard living with all men all the time. For me, though, it's nothing. Absolutely nothing. Matter of fact, I tune it out. And I'm not bragging, I'm just very indifferent about my circumstances. How I've begun to cope with it was by believing this family is nothing more than a patriarchal cult. A sex cult, actually.
The women in the family are often quiet, sheltered and denied of their humanity. They're homemakers and child-bearers, the cooks and cleaners and mediators, even if that means using their bodies to shut down altercations. I've grown accustomed to the way things are, and I'm not proud of it. I'm deeply ashamed, but there's no way for me to voice it.
My name is Lisa, Lisa Mason.
The Mason Family feels like the only family on earth, sometimes. We're in the woods, surrounded by nothing but trees and wildlife. The smell of smoke and blood can't be washed out of fabric, no matter how hard my little hands tried.
There is no school, not one for miles, or one that I could get into. No ID, no papers, no nothing. It's just me, my blood, and my family.
I don't always feel alone, though. Sometimes my brother would whisper to me stories of the women in our family. It would be bitter sweet, his hands creeping up my thigh, penetrating me as if I were his to own. In a way, I was. It used to disgust me, but now it's second nature to spread my legs a little bit. It lets him know I'm listening.
"Sheila, she's in Kentucky. That's where she said she was going, but I don't know if that's true." His voice was so quiet, so deceptive. Maybe he knew where she really was, or maybe he didn't. I couldn't rule out the idea of him leading me somewhere with false hope that I'd be free and find other people, or rather, other female relatives. I believed there was no Sheila, and no Kentucky. Mostly because at the time I didn't even know what state that was.
Education was a lost cause. What more would I need to know other than how to cook a hefty plate of food, and how to clean it up when it was eventually knocked onto the floor for being 'not good enough.' The men got to learn the 'useful skills,' which meant hunting, beating, haggling traders that came our way with goods.
Where did dad even get the money from? When I asked, I was beaten and locked in my room. "Women have no business knowing what men do with their money." That's how it goes. Oh well.
"Can you tell me about mom, Teddy?" I looked up at my big brother. His shaggy blonde hair was shaken out of the way of his blue eyes. He grumbled something, digging his fingers into me. "What about her?" I winced, readjusting myself before he had to correct me. "What was she like?"
He withdrew his fingers from me. I didn't like the sound I made when he did so. Tossing back the covers, he got out of bed and started dressing himself. "C'mon, Lis."
***
The walk of shame was something natural here. After a man has their way with you, you are to be nude for the following hour or so, never leaving his side. It's one of the many ways the Mason men like to play mind games on each other, and that morning, dad pissed Teddy off enough for him to claim me in the afternoon.
Luckily, girls did get to keep their hair long. I treated it like clothing during my walks of shame. With my hand in my brother's, he led me down the furthest hallway from the rest of the living area. Since most of the family resided in this one residence, our cabin was just four barely standing houses linked together by shoddy carpentry.
"This room, Lis." He said gently, letting my hand go hesitantly, as if I were a bird capable of flying away the second he released my wings. I stood there, like the loyal bitch I am. He fumbled with the dusty picture hung next to the door until a key fell out from behind it, clanging against the floorboards. He picked it up and looked at it for a second. It looked as though it'd been tampered with, so I held my breath as he jammed it inside the keyhole.
He turned it a few times without much force, but nothing clicked. He took it out and tried again. "Fuckin' ... Stupid shit won't budge." I watch him fumble with the door for another minute or so, losing hope by the second. Then it opened, but from the inside.