Forgotten Language

Martina is forced to use a childhood code to save herself from Norm 300 words

Forgotten Language

“What are you talking about?” Norm asked Martina.

“Nothing really, just a made-up language I used as a kid”

“Made-up? What is wrong with English?”

“Nothing, it’s just that everyone understands it. If you want to have secrets, you have to make up a code.”

“Secrets? Why would you want to keep secrets from me?” Norm asked belligerently.

“I’m not, I’m just having fun!”

“That better be all it is!” he said as he gave her arm a vicious pinch.

Martina bit her lip so as not to cry out. She began to tell the caller what was happening in a version of Pig Latin. Norm tore the phone from her hand and hung it up.

“You’ve been on long enough! Where’s my dinner?” he snarled.

Cradling her bruised arm, Martina silently went to the kitchen. An hour later, she dished out the dinner and took her seat.

“What do you call this slop?” Norm picked up the plate and threw it across the room. Then he got up and lunged toward her, grabbing her by her hair. In spite of the fact that she knew screaming would only heighten his rage; she couldn’t help herself.

He twisted the hair viciously. The door was kicked in. Several bikers went for Norm, pulled him off her and manhandled him out of the door. Martina wasn’t sure she’d see him again but was glad not to.

She cradled her head in her arms. A beefy hand touched her gently.

“You okay?” she heard her brother rumble in her ear.

Without a word, she turned into his shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.

“Don’t worry sis, you’ll never see that sorry excuse for a man again.”

“How do you know?” she gulped.

“None of those guys are undercover cops like me.”