I know, though. I've read the report. Do you want to know? I know who the guy is, what happened to him after the accident, everything. Do you want to ...now?" Is? He's still alive?" I wanted to know."Yep. He lives in a trailer park on the west coast now. It might interest you to know that you and your parents weren't the only victims in that accident. And it was an accident. He wasn't drunk; he was tired. The trucking company he'd been working for was pushy; they'd lost another driver that week. He pushed her back against the wall and ordered her to open her mouth immediately she felt the harsh metal bit being forced between her teeth and the tounge strap pushing tightly into her mouth master then attached a set of reins and forced her to get onto all fours.Now he said I'm going to show you how to ride a mare that's stubborn and disobedient as he straddled her back she could feel his spurs digging into her thighs as she was ordered to walk on faster he said as the spurs dug in deeper. ."Yes!" the cry punctuated by a bump of a headboard against the shared wall.Heather was louder tonight. Sara Jean could clearly hear the moans and sighs and gasps and everything Heather coherently spoke to her lover..."Yes!" Oh God!" So good!" Fuck yeah!" ... it was accompanied by the bump of the headboard against the wall.It surprised Sara Jean how it wasn't bothering her, being woken up in the middle of the night two nights in a row. If anything, she was a little envious, and there was no. Seriously. My sisterwas so into it, you wouldn't believe. She researched everything. Gone wasthe child's play. With each year she would research more about witches.Our pretend rituals became more realistic. And so would my witchdisguise. And when she insisted on me wearing a bra stuffed with-So, yeah. I quit.It drove a wedge between me and my sister.Without witch club, we slowly drifted apart.By the time we were in our early twenties, our contact was reduced to twoe-mails a year and Christmas.