birdcage | ongoing

fifty-nine| semblance of normalcy

Trigger warning: mention of sexual assault/abuse
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April 2009
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"Do you ever imagine living somewhere else, Harry?"

Seated on the picnic blanket, he picked up a grape from the bowl. "Not particularly, birdie."

"Sometimes, I wonder what it might be like to live in a city. Not Iowa City, but perhaps New York or Los Angeles. There's so much happening in big cities."

Harry popped the grape into his mouth, observing her as he responded, "What's sparked this sudden curiosity about city life?"

Winona casually plucked a grape and shrugged. "Just a passing thought, that's all."

"Do you enjoy living here on the orchard with me?"

"Absolutely," she beamed, popping the grape into her mouth. "I'd live anywhere as long as I'm with you, Mr. Meyer."

Their bond had deepened, a subtle undercurrent of romance simmering between them, yet neither broached the subject. Winona's perception of Harry had evolved; she no longer saw him solely as a caregiver but as a capable and very handsome man. She found herself blushing more often in his presence compared to before.

Harry cut a striking figure, tall and exuding a masculine presence. His brown hair framed his face, complementing the piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold an entire world of emotions. His lean and well-built physique bore the mark of hard labour from days spent toiling on the orchard. On occasions when she sought solace in his bed after a nightmare or restless nights, she experienced firsthand the robustness of his physique. It was then that she discovered the hidden strength in his embrace, the solid reassurance of his sturdy form cradling her, offering comfort she never anticipated.

Undergoing the transitions and emotions inherent to teenage hood, she, too, was gradually embracing womanhood, unable to escape its inevitable changes.

Winona reclined on the picnic blanket, fixating on the billowing clouds in the azure sky. "Hudson asked me out. He's on the football team. He wants to go on a date next Friday."

Unseen by her, Harry stiffened, his expression darkening. "Is that right?"

"Yes," she beamed. "And I agreed."

"Why did you say yes? You need my permission, Winona."

"Because I knew you'd say no," she retorted, stealing a glance at him. Though he faced straight ahead, irritation shadowed his features. "I want to experience what it's like to date someone. He's interested in me."

"Like how Daniel was interested but ended up breaking your heart?" he scoffed.

"This is different, Mr. Meyer."

"It's not different." He folded his arms, a stern expression etched on his face. "And you're not going."

"I am!" She sprang to her feet, a scowl creasing her brow. "And there's nothing you can do about it!"

As she stormed off, Harry swiftly rose and caught her wrist, his grasp firm and forceful. "You're not going anywhere on Friday, especially not with some brat I've never met. You stay here with me. End of discussion."

"Let go!" She struggled to free her hand, but he held on, pulling her toward the house. Once inside, he directed her to the basement. Ignoring her pleas, he shut the door behind her and locked it, leaving her to pound on the door and call out to him to no avail.

"Mr. Meyer!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the enclosed space. Panic surged within her; the basement always terrified her. It felt like her mother was right behind her, her breath hot on her neck. Tears cascaded down her face as her heart raced uncontrollably. "Open the door! Please, Mr. Meyer! Please!"