Elizabeth saw a tear running down his cheek. He cleared his throat and started to say something. His lips moved, searching for words, but nothing came out. After a minute or more of total silence, Hollister turned and walked past Aimee and Elizabeth and back into the hospital. The moment the door closed behind him, Elizabeth heard a frenzy of shouted questions from the press corps. She turned and watched them, disgusted. One reporter spotted her with Aimee. ‘Ladies,’ he called out. From the corner of her eye, she watched Aimee turn and bolt into the building, leaving her alone with them as they all descended on her. Elizabeth could only stand rooted in place as the questions assaulted her. It was a high pitched drone, shouts and queries, and microphones were being stuck in close to her face. She couldn’t move, and she found that she couldn’t talk, either. She was frozen. * * * It was a dream, and she knew it was a dream. Faceless, sexless people in bloody green surgical scrubs darted. But the curtains were drawn. I could here the sound of belt as it struck my mother’s body and my father’s curse words; she cried out aloud at every strike. I slowly removed the curtain and peeped in. What I saw took my breath away. My mother was standing stark naked in the middle of the room and my father was hitting her all over repeatedly with his belt. There were red spots all over her body. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight. I was no longer bothered about the beatings; I stared at my mother’s naked body. She looked so wonderful like that and the tears streaming down her eyes made her face look so beautiful. Her hands were full of bangles and a thin girdle was tied tightly around her waist. She wore payels around her ankles and a golden chain around her neck that hung low and encircled one of her breasts. She looked like an angel. She had big breasts that turned upwards and the nipples were brown and pointed. She had a thickset waist and a huge bum that wriggled every time the.
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