Bakers Touch

Don't Know What To Do

It's that wonderful smell of sugar and sweets in the air. Halloween is fast approaching, Morgan's second favorite holiday second to Easter. She finishes making her cookies and sets them on a cooling rack, then heads to the laundry room to stop the dryer. She was once again at home alone, since Seth had gone to the fields. He wouldn't be back for a few days, and Morgan knew her mother wasn't going to properly disinfect his military uniforms, so Morgan had already prepared a pre-soak in the downstairs bathroom. It also made it easier since their room was on the first floor, so she did not have far to walk.

Morgan pulled the clothing from the drum and loaded the basket. She stands tall and makes her way over to the bedroom when she hears a high-pitched whine. She stops and turns around for a moment, as initially it sounded as though something was behind her, but she quickly finds it's nothing and continues. As Morgan inched toward the bedroom door, a shadow-like object darts across the opening, she slowly approached, terrified that maybe an intruder had made their way in.

She glances down toward the direction where the shadow landed between the crack of the door. It's a t-shirt. A men's t-shirt. A men's t-shirt that is far too large and unfamiliar to anyone living in the home. Then she hears a voice. A voice that after just a few seconds she quickly deciphers, is not her step fathers.

As she reaches for the doorknob to open it, her ears are quenched and arrested by the sound that once plagued her as a young girl. She was floored with anger, yet too angry to flee. Too Infuriated to focus. The sound of gut wrenching, life altering, foundation stripping, moral diminishing disrespect. The sound of infidelity.

Morgan stands at the door, and her hand falls to her side. She slowly and with a most putrid scowl, she turns away. Her little brother enters the front door and she readjusts, at a depressingly quick pace, as she smiles and greets him.

He starts to speak but she puts her finger to her lips and waves quickly but carefully for him to stay silent. She didn't want him to feel like she was brushing him off. He looks confused and takes a step forward but she pauses, then using her hand, she signs the word "Snacks" and then points to the back patio door. Peter's eyes widen and he happily drags his backpack with him to the Lanai. It was his favorite place to do his homework anyway, so having food already waiting for him meant he was easily preoccupied. Peter learned sign language at school and he and Morgan use it to communicate with one another from time to time.

Morgan watches as Peter leaves the hall, then after hearing the patio door slide shut, she sighs and while taking a seat on the bottom step, she almost weeps a little. She can't believe this wench is so blatantly displaying her unfaithfulness. She's so caught up in getting herself some peace, and getting broken off a piece that-

Morgan stops herself. The urgency of the need of others is more important than her getting wound up in her hatred of a person's actions.

She doesn't dare allow her rage to get the best of her. Not again. If she exposes her mother, they'll just have her arrested, or worse, they'll call the crisis team and have her issued a 51-50 against her will. Again.

Again!? Were doing this...again!? Was the first time not enough?

Morgan witnessed her Step-father be shipped off to war, and no less than a few months into his deployment, The Banshee had her men, some new, and some not so new, all lined up. Some of them Morgan knew by name, some by status, some by pure coincidence because their children went to the same school when Morgan was younger. Some of the men were even a part of the same congregations around town. By this point, it was beyond clear that The Banshee would never leave her original profession of being a reliable "backer".