Chapter 14
IDA KÜNSTLER
13th March 1933
Quietly in my room, I was preparing a gift for Klaus’ birthday. Hopefully, he cared for art.
I continued to push controlled strokes against the canvas, with narrowed eyes and focus.
“Ida, put that away. You’re coming with me to a work dinner.” My father stood tall, his arms crossed and his taupe suit tightly fitted.
“Since when?”
“Since now. Put something nice on. Quickly.”
I trembled as I made my way to the wardrobe, picking out an evening dress. “Papa, can you please leave?”
“Why? You’re my daughter, I know what you look like.”
“I don’t care! Go away!” I felt 12 years old again, when my father discovered my body had given a sign that I was ready to be sold off. When hands too old had touched me.
I stood, frozen, even after he had finally left, before slipping into the dress, looking in the mirror as my figure. I could see almost every curve. I was a slut. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.
I tied my hair up, revealing my neck, before quickly pulling it back down, realising what people would think if they saw my neck so exposed...
Probably nothing. But a small voice in my head told me I would lose everything.
*~*
I sat beside my father at the dinner table. The only girl here.
“Papa? Why did you bring me...?”
He stayed quiet and I felt eyes travelling towards me the whole time. A minute stretched to an hour. Tears started to fill up in my eyes. I thought it was over. He brought me back to do it again. These men were thinking if I was worth it. This was sick.
“Ah, yes, my little Ida is an artist, that’s why she’s here.”
What.
“She paints so accurately, why don’t you hire her to paint that?”
“Paint what?”
“Otto’s family.”
“Oh...right. Okay.”
I looked back at my food, it made me sick. The inescapable smell and the sound of forks and knives scraping on plates. I quickly excused myself, running off to the nearest bathroom, splashing my face with water and trying not to burst into tears as I stared at my reflection.
*~*
“No!! Papa!”
My small hand was dragged across the town square to a small house, which looked long unoccupied.
A frail man stood by the entrance, most definitely once intimidating, before the economic crash, that is. He took us in to a group of wealthier men, promising to pay my father enough to get by this month for... my body.
First, of course, they tested. Touching my waist, my face, my neck. Pushing me down on a mattress and pushing my legs apart. I screamed and they only got more aggressive. My father quickly turned away as they began. But I didn’t. I stared at my father in desperation, calling him through tears, before one of the men clamped a hand around my mouth. A burning sensation filled my stomach and I tried to scream through the hand, earning a chuckle from one of the men.
“Don’t worry about the pain. It’s your first time, isn’t it?”
I continued to try fight back, but my body had no energy compared to theirs, so I lied limp. Giving up. Submitting. My father was willing to give me away to this life. I had nothing to go back to.
*~*
A couple knocks rang out on the door.
“Ida, get out of there. What’s taking so long?”
I suddenly lost feeling in my legs and my heart was actively trying to escape my chest, “Yes... One second.”
Pushing the door open, I saw everyone’s eyes locked on me once more, like a piece of meat in a lion enclosure. My father had a stern glare fixed on me and one of his coworkers confidently placed his hand on my back.
“You’ve grown quite well, Ida, haven’t you? My... You-”
My elbow swung at his nose swiftly and I shoved him away. I quickly grabbed my coat and stormed off, ignoring the shouting behind me as I stumbled through the town in the evening glow.
The world grew quiet as I made it home. My mother stood by the pots with surprise at the sight of me.
“Back so soon?” Noticing I was alone, she stepped closer, lifting up my chin and examining my expression, “Ida, what’s wrong? Something happen?”
I couldn’t say a word, but I sobbed hard into her chest, a sharp burn in my heart. She, although not knowing exactly why, knew exactly what was wrong and held me close.
*~*
SHARON MILES
After tending to Theo’s wounds and checking that he had gone to rest, I made my way to Ethan’s room. Sitting by his bedside, I idly played with my younger brother’s hair, noticing how he shamefully tugged the covers over his chest.
“Why do you want to be a doctor?”
I smiled, ruffling his hair, “I love helping. I want to help you, too. I’ve been reading the news recently, did you see? In Charing Cross they’ve been researching sex changes. That’s what you want, right? If I become a doctor, I want to make that happen for you, if you’re completely sure you want it.”
Ethan turned away, grinning, “I’m sure. How long does the ‘becoming a doctor’ thing take?”
“Usually around 10 years. But I’ll work hard to shorten that, if I can.”
“You’re a great sister. Thank you.”
I placed a small kiss on his forehead, “Goodnight.”
Shutting the door, I took a deep breath and walked towards my own bedroom. I took on a huge responsibility, but it’s been my responsibility ever since he was born.
It took a while for my parents to come around to accept Ethan’s new identity and they still made mistakes. I spent many days, sitting them down and explaining everything for Ethan, who often got too emotional to express himself properly. Frequently, my mother would yell “If you want to be a boy so badly, then grow up and stop crying!”
It was usually returned with Ethan storming off to the garden, where my father would join him.
I opened my wardrobe, picking out a soft blue nightgown. I had just slipped my previous dress off, along with my undergarments, when…
A low whistle, “Now that’s a good-looking nurse.”
I quickly whipped around, covering myself up, “Jesus, Theo! Get out!”
“What if I was dying? Would it matter?”
I tugged the nightgown over my head and shoved him out, “Are you dying? Last time I checked, dying of infection doesn’t involve walking into girls’ rooms unannounced.”
“Eh, I guess.” He smiles and climbs onto my bed, “Truth is I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to bother you instead. Guess I was just lucky.”
“Knock next time.”
“You left the door open,”
I did what? I stood like a statue, stepping back as my face heated up.
“Whatever. What would you like me to do? Read you to sleep?”
“Well, I think you should…-”
“My clothes are staying on. Don’t try it.”
“’M only joking.”
I picked up a book and sat down beside him, allowing him to lean into my arms as I read page after page, his eyes inching shut. Peace at last.
----------------------
No poem this time – sorry!
Lacking inspiration right now
</3