July 13, 2010
By Vaelyn BRONZE, Spokane, Washington
Vaelyn BRONZE, Spokane, Washington
4 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
A book can change your life, your point of views and/or your outlook on the world... but life changes too so keep reading and you'll grow in mind.

Curled up on the cold floor of my room; shivering from the lack of heat and clothes. The room was bare and dark. The moon casting his silver glow through my one window was the only source of light. My parents had locked the bedroom door from the outside, hindering me from sneaking out and maybe grabbing a blanket.

“Yeah Hoxane?”
“You okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine… I’m just a little tired.” The truth was I didn’t want to tell my friends what happened last night at home. Because who would believe me anyways if I did?

Another boring day at school. I didn’t really feel like going to math so I decided to skip. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who did.
“Hey Janix! What are you doing out here?”
“Go away Danex.”
“Why baby? I can keep you company.”
“I said go away!” I said again, glaring at him angrily. He just shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to me as if it had been an invitation. I tried to get up and leave but he grabbed my wrist and started talking to me as if his grip wasn’t crushing my bones at all.
“So what’re you doing this weekend?”
“Nothing with you THAT’S for sure.”
“Oh why do you have to be so negative?”
“Because it’s you jerk-wad.” He let go of her hand. She rubbed it self-consciously, making sure that nothing was out of place or broken.
“You just killed my buzz.”
“Good.” I remarked coldly. Danex was my ex-boyfriend; he always cheated on me so
I decided to dump him. He never acted as if he did anything though, even now; he always acted as if we were still dating, always standing outside my classes, walking with me in the halls, eating lunch with me, and trying to make plans for the both of us on the weekends. And I was sick of it, and sick of him; in fact I was sick of life; it never had given me anything.
“What are you thinking about?” Danex asked. I looked at him for only a second, but a second was enough when it came to Danex’s expressions. Right now he looked like a true friend. Someone who knew you so well that they could read you better than you could read yourself (‘course that did get annoying at times). Right now he looked concerned and caring, like he did before they had started dating. My heart jumped in my chest when I remembered those days, and couldn’t help myself from telling him what happened with my parents last night.

Danex sat there silently as I told him, reading every expression and tone change, looking for a way maybe he could help. Why couldn’t he be like this all the time? Instead of the cheating b*****d he was. When I had finished Danex reached over and gave me a very tender, sympathetic, and surprisingly sincere hug, that was practically cuddle since it lasted for a few minutes. I missed these moments in my life. To have someone there for you when you’re in the darkest part of your life, to hear their thoughts and advice for your problems and troubles, and to just have someone to hold when life has been hammering your head into the earth like someone might try to hammer a diamond into a shape it does not want to be.

The bell rang then, signaling the end of the day. Danex didn’t let go though, he continued to hug me until we couldn’t hear the chatter of our classmates anymore. Then he drew back, keeping his hands on my arms, and looked at me straight in the eyes.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked. I looked back at him, seeing that his face and his eyes both showed me the same level of sincerity for once.
“I guess.” I answered, I figured even at this point I wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise, plus I still wanted to hold on to that feeling of being wanted and cherished.

The walk home was silent, which I was thankful for; he would just ruin it if he had opened his big mouth and said something stupid and perverted like he usually did. He didn’t ask to come inside, that I also was thankful for, but something deep inside me screamed at me to make him stay; I pushed the feeling aside and walked in the door.

The moment the door closed was the moment I wished I was still at school. My little sister Caycay was screaming, yelling, stomping, crying, complaining, and begging my mother to have the very last cookie an hour before dinner.
“Fine!” Mother said fed-up and reached for the top of the fridge and gave Caycay the last cookie.
“I thought you said that I could have the cookie when I got home today mom? If my grades were good.”
“You heard your sister fussing over it. Could you take it as long as I did?” my mother retorted. I shook my head; I had listened to my sister’s spoiled brat routine that I could actually sleep through it now. But I knew the one rule that I had given myself in this house… always agree, never disagree or else you’ll be kicked out of the house with no support from anyone, especially when you’re adopted.

I went up to my room and closed the door, setting my bag on the bed and turning on my computer. I always had at least one link up for my homework so when my parents came into my room I could pop it up and pretend I was researching for something; the rest of the time I was instant messaging my friends on facebook.

Today no one was on so I flicked the computer off angrily and plopped onto my bed, head first into the pillow.
“You better not be sleeping in there! You’ve got chores to do young lady and your grades are the worst I’ve ever seen in my life!” My father yelled at me through my door.
“They’re just three “C’s” two “D’s” and one “F”.” I growled.
“What did you say?” My father roared, bursting through my bedroom door and glaring at me with the utmost intensity. I stared at him blankly and in fear, he only ever looked that way when he was on the edge of giving me another black eye.
“That’s it! No food for you tonight; and you can forget about breakfast too!” My father slammed the door, my stomach growled in response. I couldn’t help myself from moaning, it was going to be another long night--- but at least I’d have my bed this time.

I found myself in the nurse’s office that next afternoon; I had fainted in class while giving a presentation. The nurse had called my parents and they were not happy about it. They claimed that I was faking being sick and staged the faint. Then they insisted that the nurse was a liar who insisted in calling parents whenever she felt like it because that’s what she was getting paid to do. The nurse started to get frustrated with my parents but ended up getting a threat for being sued and my parents pulled me out of school… for the rest of the year.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Danex exclaimed. I had called him on my cell once school was out. My parents had locked me in my room while they had gone out to see my little sister’s Play, and they wouldn’t be back for a few hours.
“Do you want me to call the police? This is insane!”
“No, the police won’t believe you anyways.”
“I don’t care Danex, I’ll live through this. It’s only until I’m eighteen and then I’m free.” But that wasn’t going to be for another two years I added mentally. Danex sighed.
“I’m tired of you getting hurt. This is child abuse you know that right?”
“Yeah probably.” I answered. Danex sighed again and was about to add something when I heard a car pull up.
“Crap! I gotta go Danex bye.” And I hung up on him, plugging my phone into the wall and diving under my bed to grab my school books and pretend like I was studying.
I glanced over at my clock to see what time it was. It was 9:46, the play started at three o’clock; they should’ve gotten home at five.
A car door slammed, feet shuffling, stumbling up the walkway, the key being fumbled into the lock, the door slamming behind.
“Janix!” Came my father’s booming voice as he bellowed up the stairs, his words slightly slurred. He was drunk--- and he had always been an angry drunk. The sound of the key fumbling in the lock on my bedroom door reached my ears too late; I didn’t have time to grab something to protect myself with! Like the bottom end of a lamp or one of my crystal balls that I could throw, just a pencil and a couple of books was all I had.

My father stomped/stumbled into my room, slamming the door behind him so hard the wall shook.
“What did you do to your sister?” he demanded.
“What happened dad?”
“Caycay’s in the hospital! She fell off the stage and probably sprained her ankle, we don’t know, she hit her head and was unconscious! What did you do?”
“Dad I didn’t do anything; I’ve been home the whole time.”
“Lies! You must’ve done something! You jinxed her!” My father ran toward me, his arms outstretched. I jumped off the bed and dodged my father as he had lounged toward me and was now splayed on top of my bed. I scrambled to the bedroom door and tore it open just before I booked it down the hallway. I would’ve ran straight outside and went to a neighbor’s but my father caught up with me before I could, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me back up the stairs.
“You will apologize to your sister when she gets home. But right now I want you to relieve her of the jinx!”
“I didn’t jinx her!” I sputtered; my father’s grip around my throat was so tight he was choking me. Then he threw me onto the ground, my head going straight into the wall. I held my head for a moment, but only for a moment. I knew that if I stayed there long that my father would beat me to a pulp until he got sick enough to start throwing up his alcoholic beverage.
“You ungrateful child, why we kept a mistake such as you I will never know.” My father mumbled. Tears started rolling down my cheeks along with a small trickle of blood coming from a deep scratch on my head. The pencil was still clinging in my hand; I waited till my father was a foot away from me and then I jabbed it into his leg. He yelled and fell to the ground, reaching for the pencil to pull it out. I took my chance and raced to the den, locking the door behind me. I fumbled with the locks on the windows, but the tears and blood that had fallen onto my fingers kept slipping. I looked back at the door in horror as the sounds of my father’s persistent started. He was slamming himself against the door, trying to break in. Then I remembered that my father had kept a gun in his desk. I ripped open all the drawers in the desk until I found the right one. As I stared at the pistol in my hand I contemplated on what I should do with it. Should I shoot my father so as to wound him and then run to the neighbors and call the police as well as an ambulance? Should I shoot the glass so I could escape that way? Or should I just shoot myself? The sound of my father slamming himself against the door continued, but it rang in my ears until I couldn’t think. And I couldn’t take it anymore… besides--- it would be less painful this way. My father had almost broken through the door; it was shuddering in its hinges, about to break. I placed the barrel of the gun on the side of my head, I said a final farewell to Danex in my head, and when my father finally fell in through the door, I pulled the trigger. The smell of sulfur and a quick flash of red and the fear on my father’s face was the last sensations I had.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jul. 7 2011 at 8:58 pm
_Maddieb PLATINUM, Carlisle, Ohio
20 articles 0 photos 31 comments

Favorite Quote:
How will you ever reach the stars ; if you're too afraid to try.

Very good ; it touches me because i live in an abusive house. You change between first person and third person a few times in the beggining. But it was good.

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