So Human

An Unfinished Story

The story begins long before the end of that school day in February, but this is as good a place as any to start. Erin is conversing happily with friends. There is excitement, relief, and all that comes with the clang of the dismissal bell.

Next comes the car ride home: her father has picked her and her youngest sister up. He speaks enthusiastically about the stock market and about Donald Trump's latest controversial comment and they all laugh together. Erin wonders where Hillary, their middle sister is and she finds out that she is staying until five o'clock for Driver's Ed.

They arrive home after a short drive and the family convenes in the kitchen for a joyful talk. Her youngest sister hugs her father, who warns her that things won't stay this sweet forever. They find dinner waiting on the table. Pasta, salad, and chicken.

Erin sits and eats her meal dutifully but her sister complains about the pasta. Their father removes the pasta from her plate. Their mother complains that no one appreciates her hard work. Their father doubles the amount of salad on her plate. Her sister protests this.

Their father unbuckles his belt and smoothly pulls it from his belt loops. Erin's eyes dart down to her plate but her sister continues to complain. Her father uses the belt. Erin counts the lashes by the ugly sounds that the leather emits as it slaps her sister's soft skin. She does not look up to see her sister's tearful face. She's seen this image too many times before.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

She doesn't wince as her sister begins to shriek.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Erin glances at their mother who is silently looking on, with only disdain for her daughter. This is a normal occurrence, considering her family's culture. Their grandmother is shaking her head, speaking in her native language in a disappointed tone. This was her sister's fault. If she would just shut up.

Their father isn't breathing hard— he's used to this.

The sobs increase in pitch and intensity and Erin finally looks at her sister, trying to signal with her eyes to lower the sound of her cries. She doesn't see. Their father yells at her to be quiet. The tears, accompanied by loud, compulsive gasps, don't stop. The metal belt buckle makes a threatening sound that can barely be heard over the sobs. But Erin hears it. Their father yells again. Her sister doesn't listen.

The reaction comes faster this time, and she doesn't have enough time to avert her eyes. Erin watches with a sick fascination combined with empathy as her sister's face contort with pain. She counts the lashes again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

It seems like their father has established a rhythm.

He shouts at her to be quiet, only he's not shouting. His voice is calm and level. But it feels like he's shouting. Her sister's cries turn to whimpers as she bites her lower lip. There is snot running from her nose and tears are all over her face, even her forehead. How?

Their father gives her sister ten minutes to finish her meal.

Erin quickly finishes her food and brings her plate to the kitchen sink, glancing only once at her sister who is defiantly taking her time to eat, chewing on her lip instead of the lettuce.