Short Fiction - Tamar
***WARNING: CONTAINS THEMES OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE.***
It had been 10 years since they’d last seen each other. Amnon was larger than she remembered. His arms were the size of tree trunks, his hands the size of boulders. But his smile was still as warm as it always had been.
Tamar grew up with 18 brothers. But Amnon and Avshalom were her favorite. They would run around the grass together, play in the mud together, and hit each other with sticks recreating epic battles from their father, King David’s triumphs.
Amnon fell ill and David had requested Tamar to tend to him. It was normal for David to try to keep the peace between his children. But it was weird for him to include her. Let alone have her wear her nice dress. But, everybody knew David’s requests weren’t optional. So she went.
They stopped speaking, all those years ago, after she sided with Avshalom during a fight. Now, looking at Amnon lying ill in the bed she couldn’t remember why they’d started fighting in the first place.
She brought the food to his bedside and sat next to him. “Feed me. Pretty please.” He says with a pout that doesn’t reach his eyes. There he is. The same old whiny Amnon. She smiles and obliges. With a full mouth he said “Thank you.” and took his hand in hers squeezed it.
“Sister.”
“Yes my brother?”
“Come to bed with me?”
She looks at him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that she hadn’t seen for a long time and lets out a laugh. “You really must be sick.”
Suddenly he grabs her and playfully tosses her onto the bed. She squeals with delight. This is the brother she remembers. Wrestling with her and Avshalom. Never letting her win.
She grabs a pillow and hits him with it. “No brother. People in Israel don’t do this. My future king.” She teases. He pins her to the bed. She tries to wriggle free but his grip is tight. “Okay. Okay. Stop.” He digs his fingers in harder and places his knee between her legs and starts prying her knees apart.
“Seriously. Stop it.” But he’s not stopping. She manages to break an arm free. She frantically searches for something… anything. She grabs another pillow but before she can raise it he strikes her across the face. The taste of iron begins to fill her mouth.
She looks up at him but the twinkle in eyes from before is gone and all that’s left is something she doesn’t recognize. “Amnon, stop. What are you doing? Think of the shame this will bring me. Think of the shame this will bring you.” But before she can finish her sentence. He strikes her again.
A single tear falls down her face. “Brother, if this is something you really want. I beg you, please talk to father. I’m sure he’ll arrange our marriage. You don’t have to do this. Please.” But it doesn’t matter. Her brother is not there anymore and he punches her in the stomach.
———
She sits at the edge of the bed. The silence that has filled the room is interrupted by the rhythmic drip of the crimson from between her legs onto the cold stone floor. Her ribs scream with every breath. The pounding in her head expands until she can no longer see out of her eye. The room spins as quickly as her thoughts. And she remembers her father sent her here. In this dress.
“Get out.” Her thoughts are interrupted. She turns toward Amnon but he refuses to look at her. “Amnon...”
“Get out of here!” He screams.
“If you kick me out now, it will be worse than what you just did to me.” But before she knows it she’s tossed out of the room with door bolted behind her.
She staggers down the long corridor to her beloved brother Avshalom. When he looks up she falls to her knees next to the fireplace. Avshalom falls down next to her. “Amnon did this didn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.
He wipes the tears and blood from her face. Careful to avoid her injuries.
“Listen Tamar don’t make big deal out of this. Amnon is going to be king. Just let it go.”
She sits up straight, grabs the neck of her dress with her right hand and, in one motion, rips it off her body. Her other hand takes the ash from the fireplace and smears it across her face.
Author - Cené Hale
