On weekends, I would generally hang out at Nancy’s and we would await the point in the day when her Dad would be at the golf course with his buddies...and Mrs. Huggins would discreetly “go out for a while,” leaving us alone at the house. We made the most of those opportunities. When she got home, Nancy’s Mom would make a lot of noise if she did not see us downstairs or by the pool, and we would quickly pull ourselves together and make our appearance. Her Mom usually had a bit of a smirk on her. Now, she was awake and mad. She was tied to some kind of table. It smelt foul, felt rough and hurt her back. Her arms were above her head, tied tightly, her legs spread and tied to the corners at the opposite end. There was tape over her mouth and across her cheeks into her hair. It pulled every time she turned her head. She was sick, her stomach roiling, gorge rising into the back of her throat. She was so scared and she wanted to go home. Not home to her old apartment with the bad heating, no. More

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