Chapter Two
She was in that mood again and he could tell from the moment he stepped through her door with her breakfast just like always. She was wearing the white lacy shift dress that her mother had worn so often. It had been one of Marni's favourite outfits. Shilo had that burning look in her eyes, a silent fury. Nathan had the feeling if he could touch it, it would be the sort of thing that was so hot it burned freezing cold on your flesh.
"Shi, did you take your medicine?" He covered the distance between them in long strides and set her breakfast tray down, before he picked up her grey medical bracelet from her bedside table, "Why did you take this off? I've been trying to reach you."
His voice was calm but there was an edge of panic to it. A hint of anger, even. She could tell she had worried him. It had been her intention, yet she still felt sorry for it. It's almost on the tip of her tongue to voice her apology, but she bites it back and stands up from her bed, even as he is putting the bracelet firmly back on her wrist.
"Why do you dress me in these clothes?" She asked. Her voice quavered a little, but it was strong.
Nathan secured the bracelet to her wrist, the mechanism closing with a dull click, and he softly touched her arm, "You dressed yourself, precious."
Shilo jerked her arm away from him and prodded him with a finger, "You know that's not what I mean."
She's losing her nerve now, wants to stop this conversation like she always does. Wants to bite back her questions and her anger, and just keep going the way they have been. But it's different today, it has to be different, just once. Just once she can ask those things that plague her. She felt especially lonely the night before and closed off from the world. Looking at the constellations from her balcony. Usually it would make her feel happy, but it had made her want to cry with loneliness. She wanted something she couldn't quite place. Real affection, maybe. Rather than being treated like her mother's ghost. Trapped in her room, in this house, behind that plastic like a photo in an album. Preserved in the pages like a memory.
Nathan let out a ragged sigh - it had been a long night last night and he was feeling tired today. Tired of heart and mind, at least. Although he knew he would be unable to sleep .
(Oh god she looks just like her today, when did that happen?)
"You dress me in my dead mother's clothes. This house is a shrine to her memory. Is that what I am too-"
"No, no that's not-!" He tried to interrupt her but she shoved him backwards, silencing him, not from the force but from the shock of her acting in such a way.
She went on, "Am I a shrine to her memory?! Am I her replacement for you!?" She yelled the last part, surprised at her own daring.
Every ounce of her being is screaming at her to stop this, don't make daddy upset, don't say these things. But he is looking back at her with a tired and sad expression. He lets her say her piece. It has evidently been building for a while. Shilo stood close to him and continued her rant, her teenage angst at last finding release. The guilt would be worth it. She could handle it.
"Tell me! Tell me why you do thist to me! I'm seventeen, and I'm never allowed out! I've never even had a friend before. Never been on a date! No one's ever kissed me! You think I'm still a kid? You think I don't want things like that?!"
"Shilo, you are very sick." His response is soft and unconvincing.
Is that what this was all about? Teenage horomones running rampant. Nathan moved away from her and began to fix her medicine. Her communicator was beeping.
[Blood pressure warning...medicate immediately...]
He moved slowly and mechanically to fix her medicine for her, while Shilo fumed. She had the sudden compulsion to rip the plastic right down from around her bed. But she had the sense not to. She might be a raging bundle of teenage horomones, but she wasn't stupid. Wrecking her room wouldn't help matters. Even if it might feel really good. And she did hate that plastic. But he would only put it back again.
She started to feel faint, and sat on the bed, clutching at her heart. Those stabbing pains. The blood disease that keeps her from living. Her father brought her the medicine and she gulped it down, feeling relief and 'normalcy' spreading over her.
(But really what was normal? She wasn't sure she'd ever been 'normal' so how would she know?)
She breathed heavily, still sitting on her bed with her head down, staring at the empty glass in her hands. Her hands clutched at it, feeling the cool smooth glass. Routine. Always the same every day. Every day. Nothing ever changed. But she had!
Nathan regarded her, wondering if her rage had passed. She looked up at him with solemn acceptance. "So, am I? Am I a shrine to her?"
Her voice was empty of emotion now, deadpanned, raw.
Nathan sat down next to her and swept her into his arms, holding her close to him and breathing her in deeply. Soap and vanilla. Clean and fresh. She always smelt clean and fresh.
"You're my precious daughter. You're everything to me."
This was not a real answer, but Shilo knew better to go any further. She entwined her small pale hand with his large, capable one. There were other questions she had wanted to ask (yell?). But it was pointless. His soft breath warmed her cheek. He smelt like soap and cinnamon. His hand was strong in hers and she felt safe. His other hand came to rest on her knee. They sat like that a while (This was something else the people on TV seemed to fail to do, but this was something Shilo didn't want to question). Until Nathan made to get up and leave.
"Shi, I have to sleep now." His voice was soft and husky, and there was an odd urgency to it, as if his leaving was something that had to happen very quickly.
Sometimes Shilo felt a strange tugging sensation in her stomach somewhere right below her belly button. She felt it now as his hand moved ever so slightly from her knee and onto her thigh. As he turned to get up, she held tight to him - something she used to do in her youth quite frequently. Back then it would bring a smile to his face - how needed it made him feel. How cute. His little Shi-Monkey. But he looked down at her and there was something akin to worry etched on his face. His pupils dilated visibly and receeded.
"No one's...ever-" She tried to say the words but they seemed to get lodged somewhere in her throat. Her eyes felt hot and tears threatened to spill out.
"Shilo..." It was a warning, not an endearment.
But he didn't move, His eyes locked with hers, saw her pleading and her sorrow.
"No one's ever kissed me..." She whispered.
His perfect angel, Shilo. Somehow, his obsession for her had grown far beyond what he had once felt for Marni. It was strange and he would seldom admit it to himself. But his driving force in his life was to protect Shilo, keep her safe, shield her from the world that is so cruel and harsh and violent. The blood on his hands would never touch her. When he did his work, he seldom realised how sadistic and twisted he would become until after the act when he would think back and often think,
Was that me? Did I do that?
The thing that grounded him, that stopped him from losing himself, was his Shilo.
With her sweet little smiles, and her delicate movements. She had a fascination with insects and how things worked. She wanted to know so many things about the world. Always reading books although never pestering him to buy her more. She was happy with what she got. He would have given her anything she asked him, bought her anything, within reason.. But, she never seemed to want anything. She seemed content to read her books and catch butterflies.
When had it all started to change? Had he just been too blind to see? Because, maybe there were things she had always wanted for, and he didn't know.
I didn't know she wanted for anything. I just wanted to protect her.
She was Rapunzel in a tower, but no prince to climb her hair - it would fall off her head for one thing. Was he protecting her, or keeping her captive? No, she had to be protected, for the world was cruel. She could never leave him. She was his world. And he was supposed to be hers. She was not supposed to long for anything more.
She's looking up at him now, and he feels a longing that is less than fatherly, far less innocent and something that has been building over the past year, or had it been longer? (Surely not too much longer - he isn't that much of a pervert, not possible...right?) Seventeen years alone, there have been no other women. For who could love the monster he has become? Another person would only get in the way. He had to protect Shilo. He didn't have time for other women. Distractions. And he'd end up hurting them. He didn't have room or love left for anyone else. Marni's body kept preserved and displayed, their daughter kept locked away and safe. If he kept everything safe then it would stay the same. He couldn't lose anything more. He had lost too much. He had to keep everything the same, had to keep things close to him. In his brief moments of clarity perhaps he might see just briefly, the reality of the situation. But sorrow and guilt are more powerful it seems, than truth.
Marni I am so sorry. Can you forgive me.....
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Shilo was clutching at him still, refusing to let go. He could have shaken her off if he had wanted to. He was stronger than her by far - years of poison had made her frail and gaunt. Years of being a repo man had made him strong and lithe. But her eyes were bright and so beautiful. There was a stubborness to her face that said I will live! I refuse to give in! Little did she know. So little did she know....
"You-" Nathan's voice is broken and raw, "You cannot ask this of me, you-"
But he trailed off, his strong hands gripping her shoulders now. He drew her close. He could feel her heart beating against him. It was like a little bird fluttering. Her eyes are still burning brightly. He can smell her toothpaste. His hands grip her tighter, and a little sigh escapes her, sigh of fear perhaps or a sigh of expectance. Her small breasts are pressed against his chest, face turned upwards to his. Something in his mind is going to snap, but which way, he doesn't know.
Fight or flight. Give in, or resist?
