Illustrated image for article Agreement with the Enemy - Pervert (4.)!

Agreement with the Enemy - Pervert (4.)


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We seemed like the perfect couple among our acquaintances. No one knew anything was wrong. We were able to say things in front of them in such a way that everyone laughed and took it as a very good joke. Only you and I knew it was real. Thinking back on it, we had the same style of humor. Cold humor. And I have to admit, I enjoyed it. I said things with impunity that I wouldn't have dared to say at home, and even he took it as a kind of game.

 

He was jealous of my daughter. That's common, and for a long time, I took it as a fact that would pass with time. My daughter and I used to cuddle and talk a lot. He always tried to separate us. "You're like two lesbians." He said. And so we started stealing moments for ourselves. The trips to preschool were ours. We played, we read, we talked...

 

But after a very short time, he started making strange demands. He explained everything with his endless love. I had to dress and undress in front of him, and it got to the point where he forbade me to even go to the toilet. It was sick and really very unpleasant, but "LOVE"? Anything can be done in the name of this noble emotion. Just get it right. Get sick. Dress it up in pretty words. Yeah. He was good at that.

 

I was eating him up with the reel and didn't even notice that I had him wrapped around my legs with his head in my lap while I was sitting on the throne. I suspected it wasn't quite right, but "LOVE"?

 

No love! He was a perfectly ordinary pervert!

 

I don't know what I was thinking at the time! That it was normal? Or was I afraid to say anything? I didn't want any more endless guesses. I wanted to be left alone. Would I consider leaving a failure? A failure? I didn't want to go back to my mother in disgrace.

Maybe all of the above.

 

And so I tolerated it and continued to cook, mend, sew shoes... Yes, shoes. They broke and I couldn't afford new ones. I tore them up, traced them, and made new ones out of the leftover leather. I taped them up with moss and that was it. Anyway, that was a period when I did a lot of handwork. I mean, it was normal back then. There was a lot of sewing, knitting, scrubbing, crocheting, and doing everything possible and impossible at home. There wasn't much choice in the shop. And when there was, it was worn all over Prague. It was such a time. To avoid sounding like I was completely crazy, it was also because of the money. It saved a lot of money.

 

I got used to it. I don't even know why. It didn't wake me up the first time he pushed me and I hit my shoe. I had a bruise halfway up my thigh. Even then, I began to notice that our relationship was becoming more and more like a joyride. He was going through regular sinusoids at very short intervals. Within half an hour, he could change positions. From cursing and threatening to declaring his love and promising never to do it again. Blah blah blah.

 

The red light in my head could have been flickering and I still got nothing. Just a toucan. And so I wanted to tell you:

2. I'm sorry. You know, going to the bathroom with someone is really not normal. And it really bothered me a lot. I should've told you more forcefully and, more importantly, right away. So you'd understand. Your jealousy wasn't great either, but that's for later.



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Background Photo of the author Hana Vondráčková!
Picture of the author: Hana Vondráčková!

Hana Vondráčková

Kostelec nad Labem, Czech Republic

Writing is a therapy for my aching soul and a bit of an escape from reality....

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