Astrology is for girls and maybe queers.
(Writers Guild of Berlin, Short Stories and Poems, Collection 01)
CW: Blood // TW: Abuse, violence, torture.
In the morning, Rachel woke up with the resolution to leave him. Her horoscope had announced the last lunar eclipse of the year should take place that night. She wanted to gaze and marvel at the sky, being born again under the moonlight without being haunted by his low drunken voice, only stupid girls believe in astrology and such bullshit. Shortly after he smashed the front door behind him and left the house she locked herself in the bathroom. There she waited until the car noise faded away in the distance and called her aunt Charlotte from a phone that she kept hidden under one loose floor slab. Rachel whispered on the phone that she was ready to do it.
The two women had rehearsed the escape plan several times. Aunt Charlotte would pick her up from their shared house in Long Island and drive her somewhere safe. That day Brian had a meeting with his manager in the recording studio downtown and those meetings could either last two days in a row or transform into an after party at the house. Rachel prayed Aunt Charlotte would arrive before him. She decided to pack her Tarot cards, the pictures of her 18th birthday party and a backpack with a pair of clothes. Anything too heavy or notorious she left behind as Charlotte’s car was old and she didn’t want it to have a breakdown in the middle of the highway. With some hesitation she put a knife into her right pocket and felt silly about it.
After bringing downstairs her few personal belongings, she sat in the living room bitting her nails while staring at the pictures on the living room that he had made of her. Whenever a car approached the street she jumped to the window, terrified to find anyone outside, be it a friend or foe. That division had long lost its meaning.
Her memory drove her back to their first encounters and the initial understanding that, she had thought, was meant to be. The way he had captivated her with his intellectual knowledge and controversial persona. He was a Capricorn, and she a Virgo, both earth signs. He laughed when she pointed out that coincidence. He bought her a pair of heart-shaped glasses just after a few dates. From the beginning it had to be stated that she was Lolita and he, mad Humbert, naturally. Love of my life, fire of my loins, what could possibly go wrong?
One of his favourite torture devices was sleep deprivation. He would prevent her from sleeping for days, sometimes with the aid of substances she could not even name. He found pleasure in keeping her at hand to entertain himself. There was no use in pleading to be allowed to sleep, the more she would plead the more he would lash out. In the darkness her only companion was the moon. It would always shine with a different light, and Rachel felt the moon spoke to her as she followed the different phases during those endless hours. The moon was her only accomplice.
The sound of an engine nearby brought her back into the cold living room. She walked to the front door and came outside the house. The eclipse had started. She had almost forgotten about that. The moon was painted red and the Earth’s shadow covered half of its surface. Moonlight shone in every corner of the yard with an artificial tone. She could see every detail of her surroundings almost as in daylight, from the silver grass covered in leaves to the branches of the trees that formed haunting fairy tale monsters above her. Brian stepped out of his car and approached her calmly. Rachel looked him in the eye, shaking in the sport under the wind chill of the evening.
“Charlotte is not coming today,” he announced, “No one is coming for you.”
“I am leaving you,” Rachel replied quietly. She tried to pretend the news did not surprise her but she sensed her failure as a crooked smile crossed his face.
“You thought you could deceive me,” he continued, with that soft whisper that sent shivers to her spine every time danger was about to come. “Always plotting and scheming with your Tarot crap. But Charlotte called me and told me about that plan of yours.”
“Liar,” snapped Rachel.
She took the knife out of her pocket and raised it directly to his chest. He blinked his eyes at the silvery tip of the knife but immediately laughed at her and clapped her hands.
“Put that down,” he ordered her with a crooked smile. Rachel was shaking and breathing heavily but she did not lower the knife. She had never dared to stop him before. She didn’t tell anybody about the abuse, the lack of sleep. She didn’t protest that time he carved his initials into her inner thigh with a knife. The memory of the blood dripping along her thigh and the disgust shook her whole body. Her own blood spilled by this intruder, by a thief. The same blood was now reflected on the moon and she felt her power rising under the eclipse.
She realized now that Brian was just two steps below from her and she saw a trace of anger behind his hesitant smile. He reached his arm slowly towards her hand to make her rid of the knife. But with a flick of her wrist, Rachel sliced the flesh on his forearm. He screamed and his eyes opened wide when he saw the red drops spilled in the stairs. The surprise in his face turned into a grotesque grimace and a shadow fell upon Rachel. She hit the ground, overpowered by his terrific strength and the silver night lost its clarity. But she didn’t get rid of the knife and fought back, kicking him and stabbing the knife along his arms, face, chest, she wasn’t sure if the body was his or hers anymore. Like the time before that and the time before that only the moon stood by her side. She closed her eyes when his blood started dripping into her face and she couldn’t see any trace of the eclipse anymore.
From the darkness she woke up, her whole body aching in pain and cold. The dim rays of light around her were daylight, not moonlight anymore, but time felt meaningless. Slowly she regained her consciousness and guessed that she was not dreaming anymore, the pain in the head was too real. She looked around her, terrified to find Brian waiting beside her, ready to take revenge for her behavior but there was nobody around. There was a trace of blood along the stairs and inside the house, but she couldn’t see anything from the yard.
The front door to the street was still open and she heard the noise of an old engine parking somewhere nearby. From the small opening she could see the rusty red painting of the car and for a second she thought she might be dreaming after all. She stood up, her heart racing madly, and decided to find out. Rachel crossed the door rapidly into the cold light of the morning.
