By Friday, I was nervous and excited about our weekly session. So many questions ran through my mind. Would she kiss me again? Did she still want me to massage her? I hoped beyond hope the answer was yes to both of those questions.I was still anxious that evening when she asked me to come to her room. I was scared stiff. Trepidation filled me as I entered her room. To my immense relief, she was naked when I came in. I had to fight as always not to stop and stare at her naked body. Unless she was doing that to give me false hope, which I doubt my loving mother would do to me, I knew it meant she wanted me to massage her again. I quickly closed the door and walked into her room. When I got near her, she put her hand to my chest to stop me. I was shaken. Was I wrong? Did she not want it after all?I was about to ask, but then she said something that both aroused and scared me. “Dana, there is something you and I have to talk about. I have a feeling you massaging me each week is about. The mud sucked at their feet, pulling them down. She had to walk upright again to keep above the surface. Charles backed against a hollow formed by tree roots. He whimpered. "I wasn't going to do anything," he said, tears running down his mud-streaked face, mingling with the rain. "I wasn't going to hurt you, I swear." Of course," said Angela, dragging him to dryer land. She sat down on his chest and ran her fingers through his hair gently, almost lovingly. "Please don't kill me," said Charles, wincing as one of her claws glanced against his neck."When I found my daughter, she was all red." What?" said Charles, blinking, bewildered."Sarah. My oldest daughter. I came home after work and couldn't find her. I looked all over. I asked my boyfriend where she was, and he wouldn't answer. And that's when I saw that his hands were red." She gripped his shoulders tighter. "I found her in the bathtub. Red everywhere. Red inside the tub. Red all in her hair. I couldn't wash the red out no.
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