The Deal | Teen Ink

The Deal

July 7, 2014
By Meb123 BRONZE, Billerica, Massachusetts
Meb123 BRONZE, Billerica, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
He offered her the world, she said she had her own


The faint light of the moon shimmering down from the sky guides my way up the slippery fire escape. I glance down checking my tattered watch that lay on my wrist. “ 8:03, Oh no! I’m late. Mark will still be up!” I think to myself. Mark was possibly, no definitely, the worst stepdad on the planet. I think back to the day we met, he seemed real nice. I was wrong, he put up a front until mom and him were married. After their wedding I saw the real side of Mark, and I sure did not like it. The night my mom and Mark got home from their honeymoon was the first time he had hit me. A push into the wall, a hit to the face. Mark made me tell mom I was fooling around with some older kids that week, the saddest part was that she believed me. I told my mom that the broken window was because of a baseball and the whole in the wall was because I got mad, it was all a big lie. My whole life is a lie I thought to myself while scaling the building. Mom, her blonde locks of hair, her long nails, and her dark brown eyes. It seemed as though if you looked long enough you could get lost in them. It had only been a month or two since she died. Since then everything went downhill. It was just me and Mark living in our small apartment. Mark didn’t work, I didn’t go to school. We spent our days separately, making no effort to get along. But to this day I don’t miss my mother, I hated her. She brought Mark in, she was the reason my little sister Susie was dead. Everything that happened to her she deserved, my mother was a waste of oxygen. I hate her.

The rattling of raccoons in the trash bins below awaken me from this deep thought of my mother and horrible step dad Mark. My pace fastens, practically jumping from bar to bar like a monkey. The pain I know I’m about to endurer is the only thing that scares me. Clouds of thick white breath fill the night sky around me. “Careful Chuck…” I repeat in my head as i [a]start to open the broken window. Watching out for the broken glass that surround the window I enter, slowly limb by limb. “ Almost in, stay quiet, stay quiet!” The last limb to enter is almost in. My right arm maneuvers through the broken window. “OUCH!!!” I scream as I hit my right shoulder against the glass, scraping my whole arm from shoulder to hand I drop the window immediately and fall to the floor. Millions of questions run through my mind. “ Was it that loud? Am I okay? Is he awake?” Pain and fear run a mile a minute as i try to quietly get up from the ground.

“CHUCKY……” The gurgling voice shouts from down the hall. I freeze, it was Mark. His voice alone was so scary it could freeze anyone, me, my mother, Susie, anyone.
“Oh no! He’s up…” I say to myself under my breath. Fear takes over and I spring to action. Drops of sweat run from my overheated forehead. I accidentally move my bloody arm across my face trying to wipe the sweat, not realizing until it’s too late the mess I had made. I practically launch myself into the blow up mattress that lays on the floor across from Susie’s bed. Wrapping myself in the homemade quilt Aunt Beth sent for Christmas I try to cover the bloody mess on my face. “Look asleep, look asleep” I think to myself as I listen for the eerie footsteps down the hall. The six foot, two hundred and fifty pound man who I call my step dad stands in my doorway. My eyelids open just enough to see him, but not enough for him to see I’m awake. The flickering lantern next to my door gives me enough light to see what he’s holding. A bottle, when wasn’t Mark drinking was the real question. He seemed to always be drinking, day, night, morning it didn’t matter. It started after my mom died, and it seemed like he would never stop. “Just stay calm and don’t cry. Mark hates crying.” I think to myself.

“ Chuck get up now!” I pounce to feet, throwing the homemade quilt to the wooden floor. I had learned the hard way that when Mark gives you an order to follow it.
“Ye-yes Sir?” I stutter, mom had always tried to help me with my stutter. She used to bring me to a class to help me. When Mark and her met that all stopped. He said it was a waste of money, whatever Mark said my mom obeyed. We stopped going to that class, and my stutter only got worse.
“Get over here” Mark spits out. Every step I take feels like a death wish. Almost if I am a pirate walking off the plank to be eaten by the big bad sea. Except this was not death. Mark did not want to kill me like he wanted to kill Susie. He thought Susie was extra baggage that our small dysfunctional family did not need, that is why he killed her. I could hold my own, I did not need a mom and dad like Susie did. I guess that’s just the reason she is not here today. Mark, he hated me, but never like he hated Susie. He wanted me to suffer, he knew death would be a hell lot better than the pain he put me through.
“ Did you just get in ‘Pretty Boy’?”
Mark gives a sly smile knowing how I hate that name. Pretty boy was only one of the many nicknames Mark had given me. My red hot face moves to say, “ No Sir..” I glance up to look at him. The gray ratty beard that ran from his ears to his chin was gross, it contained this night’s snack; popcorn kernels and maple syrup. His oversized muscles seem to burst out of his shirt, and his red eyes bulged out from his head. “ Fight back the tears, fight back the tears” I repeat over and over in my head.
“ What was that noise than Chucky?” Chucky, that was another nickname that made me want to stab my blue eyes out. Charles was my real name, I did not like that either. I went by Chuck, that was all I liked.
“I don’t know Mark…” I say trying my best to hide the fear in my eyes. His large body steps forward towards me. Not until he is directly in front of me do I smell the most treacherous smell I have ever smelled. Our whole apartment reeked of cigar smoke and whiskey. Mark’s two biggest obsessions, I swear he’d loved them more than his own wife. The unbearable smell of cigar smoke and whiskey grows stronger with each of his loud, obnoxious steps. I have to fight my stomach to keep down my dinner. I look at the ground to see his hands inch up slowly to my already bruised neck. His rough, dirty knuckles make contact with my stomach as he pounds me to the ground. It feels as though I’m trapped. Not just trapped under his large body, but trapped in my life. Panting for breaths between punches and hits, he finally backs off. I lay on the ground, bleeding from every possible place and trying to breathe. Struggling I try to push and drag myself over to the wall near my bed. I seem to always do this after he beats me. I try to convince myself I will be safe near the wall, but not once have I been. He always seems to find me, and continue the beating.
Just as I had imagined, the eerie footsteps approach me as I sit by the wall. The horror I have created in my mind is almost as bad as the reality I’m forced to live in everyday. Mark finishes me off the same every beating with three hard kicks. “ One, two, three..” I count in my head as he kicks me, and then the worst; a stomp on the face from his old raggy work boots.
“ Next time be on time,‘Pretty Boy’ Okay? ” after looking straight into my eyes he turned around walking to the door. Before exiting he knocked the picture of Susie and I that laid on her white dresser onto the ground. I could hear the glass shatter, almost just like my heart the day she died. So young, so innocent, Susie did not deserve to die if anything I did.
I lay on my side on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of deep dark red blood. My shoulder felt crushed, my ribs felt all broken, “ I hate Mark. I hope he dies. I hope I die…”. The thoughts haunted me, would death really be easier than living in a world where no one loved me? I crawl to my knees, hands shaking I manage to pull off the dusty wallpaper. The pulled back paper represents what my life had become, beatings. It was all I had to live for, every time Mark hit me I added a line onto the wall. I started it by accident, but soon it had just become a tradition. Tears dropping from my hot, sweating face I count the lines aloud, “ 1,2,3...17...35...53...75, and now 76.” Seventy-six times Mark had beaten me, not once had I ever said a word. That was our deal, Mark and I agreed to never tell about what happened August 16th, the day Susie and my mother were killed. If I never told about Mark beating me, then he would keep my secret. Funny how these things work out, makes me wonder if he ever did truly love my mother. If he had actually loved her how could he have kept this secret, even if it meant jail for him?
That is how I fell asleep, thinking of the day my mother died. Imagining the bright red gushing blood from her neck. The pool of red that spread through the bathtub water. The bloody handprints on the wall from when she tried to catch herself from falling to the ground.. Her last words she ever said, “ I love you Chuck” run through my head. And the last words she ever heard from anyone, “ No you don’t, I hate you!” I said that to my mother right before she died, and I am so very glad I did. Then she was gone, her selfish soul was in hell, and I was finally asleep in my blow up mattress.
When I awoke the next morning I almost could not move. The aches and pains were unimaginable. Moaning and groaning I force myself to stand. Even with the pain so bad, I knew this was not the worst beating I had endured in my lifetime. New York was where I had always been, the heart and soul of the city was what I called my home. The alleys and streets were my friends, if I were to leave Mark I’d have to leave the city. I didn’t know much about our country, but I knew anywhere was better than this. I used to go to school and play football. I used to be social and have tons of friends, but when Susie died what was there to live for?

I rush myself to throw on an old pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt. Not worrying about what my long greased up hair looks like, I make my way to the kitchen hoping there is something to eat. Before I can arrive I manage to hear voices. This was odd because Mark is usually never up before ten. “ Who’s here?” I think to myself mouthing the words.

“...I think that would be a great decision seeing as you're awaiting trial and all Mark” I hear this sentence and can tell some lady and Mark are talking about the case of my mother and Susie’s death. I carelessly walk into the dining room with a red apple that I grabbed from the kitchen on my way down the hall. When I walk into the messy room I see a tall, skinny blonde woman. Immediately I know who this is, Sandy Spewer. Sandy was my social worker. She started to come and check on me once in awhile after mom died. Usually Mark tells me when she is coming so we know to get along, but not this time. As I approach the round table where the two sit Sandy and Mark both greet me. Sandy jumps up to give me a hug and Mark just gives me one of those, “ Shut up and go with it” kind of stares that he is famous for. After I sit down Sandy explains why she is here.

“ Hello Chuck! So good too see you, you’ve grown so much. I guess I won’t sugar coat this since time is of the essence! On behalf of the state of New York, we feel as though it would be better if you moved to Florida with your Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Jay. Therefore if you agree, the final decision is to move you down to Florida state, today…” her voice cracks, she must have been nervous because her voice never does that.

“ What?” I blurt out, had I really just heard what she said. my eyes shoot over to Mark to see his view in this move.

The silence in the room awkward, with my mouth wide open in shock Sandy says, “ Yes Chuck, now I’m so-sorry but…” I interrupt her, not wanting to hear the explanation again.

“ No, no Sandy! I want to go! Please, when do we leave?” I shout out feeling a little rude for not letting her finish.

“ Oh Chuck great! Go pack your things, we have a long drive ahead of us now. I’ll meet you at the car in five minutes? Alright.” Sandy seemed happy that I wanted to go. To be honest I was happy for the first time in a long time. Maybe this could be the family I never had, the possibilities ran through my mind.

After Sandy left the apartment it was time to talk to Mark. Thankfully Mark broke the awkward silence, “ Look kid I’m on trial for your mom’s murder. They think it’s best for you to go to school and have a real family and I sure as hell don’t care where you are. The farther the better in my opinion. Everything would be worse for us if they found out about the deal, so stick to the plan. Always. Keep the deal, no matter where life takes us. Got it kid?” Mark said all of that so fast it was like he’d practiced it all before. He probably has, he has been waiting all my life to get rid of me.

I nod my head and say “ Got it Mark.” I agreed with every word he said. This was my only chance to have a real loving family, I didn’t want to screw it up and go to jail. I exit the dining room before he could get another word out, leaving my apple on the table to rot.

As I walk down the hall I look at every mark and crevice on the walls. Finally I am in front of my white cracked door. Standing with pristine posture I try to be fearless and brave. I look around at the four walls that were my home for my whole life. These four walls were everything I had ever known. I take the few shirts and pants that still fit me. Not folding them, I carelessly throw them into my suitcase that I had to dig out of my closet. I bunch up the quilt Aunt Beth had sent me, “She will be happy to see I actually use it” I thought to myself. Packing my stuff was easy, I saved the hardest for last. It was packing up some of Susie’s things I knew would make me cry. I make my way over to her pink plush bed. Feeling the soft fabric is somewhat comforting. Her bed had not been touched since that horrible day. I stayed up for three days straight after she died. I kept waiting for her to run into our room and jump on her bed. Just waiting for her to ask for a bedtime story, or for me to watch her dance. She never did run in or ask me though, my sister was dead and I came to that realization all too late.

My love for my sister could not be broken, part of the reason why I did what I did. Susie brought happiness to the darkest people. Her smile could light up a room, she was the most beautiful little girl I had ever met. Thinking of my sister and all our great memories, I crawl up into her bed and cry. Tears fall from my face, sobbing, I am a complete mess. I take the now dead flowers that lay on her bureau that I gave her for her first ballet recital. “ He loves me, he loves me not…” she said as she picked the petals off one of the pink roses. I pick up the picture frame that still lays on the ground from last night. The glass is broken so I just take the picture of us from my state championship football game. In the picture Susie’s on my back wearing my blue helmet and holding my first place trophy. Remembering life without Mark was great, it was me Susie and mom. Now that they were gone my whole life seemed to disappear.
Once I packed to the brim of my suitcase I have to sit on it to close it up. I touch her bed for the last time, just remembering all the games and laughs we shared. The squishy comfort of her bed made me wish I had had one. Every since Susie’s death I stopped sleeping in her bed. That was her bed and if she was not going to sleep there, nobody would. I missed my sister more than anything in the world. “If I could’ve just been home that day, if I could’ve just said goodbye, told her how much I loved her just one more time…” I think to myself.
I hated Mark and my mother. I am glad to leave this place and all it’s bad memories. I exit the small tattered room for the last time, not looking back on what was once my life but focusing on what the future held for me. As I walk out of the front door to our apartment Mark runs out in a panic.
“ The deal Chucky, don’t forget the deal!” I turn back, my face red hot with anger, this was it my final chance to tell Mark how I felt.
“ I know Mark, I know the deal do not worry. I hate you Mark!” I scream back at him.
“ Go to hell pretty boy!” He screams back practically laughing at me.
“ I’ll meet you there!” With that I left, turning my back walking down the long hallway. Those were the last words I ever spoke to my abusive stepfather, Mark.
Two months later:

I sit on the ice cold Florida beach sand in the middle of December. My eyes are mesmerized by the ongoing roll of ice blue waves. My spine tingles from the cold belligerent winds and I zone out to think about the life I once lived. With nobody around I felt free to think what I wanted to think. I was free to relive every single moment of my mother’s death. Free to grieve about the loss of my sister. When I was alone, I could escape humanity and all it’s hurtful comments. No one was there to say “ I’m sorry”, or pass me a smile. When I was alone I could think what I wanted to. I felt as though I controlled the world and every variable in it. Control was something I never had when I lived with Mark. I was never free when I lived in that apartment. Ever since the day my real dad left us I was trapped. When my dad left us he never came back, he promised me he would. I was trapped in lies and deaths ever since I was seven years old. Quite a childhood I would say.
Two months ago I lived with someone who hated me. Two months ago I was worthless. Two months ago I didn’t think their was anything to live for. Just two months ago I would have rathered died then suffer. The quiet, beaten boy I was two months ago was not who I am today. I found someone who loved me for me, Florida with my Aunt Beth, Uncle Jay and cousins, Lily and Thomas was where I belonged. I finally had a picture perfect family that I had always longed for.
My thoughts were interrupted by the loud voice screaming from the house. It was low, almost to low to hear from the shore where I was sitting. I ignored the scream and focused back on my thoughts.
“ Chuck, Chuck!” It was my cousin Thomas running across the sand to me, just ignore him and you will be fine I think to myself.
“ Chuck! C’mon man, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing dude. I’ve been looking for you everywhere, and this is where you’ve been?” Thomas says panting for a breath.
“ Sorry man, I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things today” My voice cracked, I hope he had not heard the sadness in my voice.
“ What’s wrong Chuck?” He asked.
“ Oh nothing really…” I roll my eyes up and look straight into those deep dark brown eyes.
“ Seriously, what’s wrong? You can tell me!” Thomas says.
I needed to tell someone, anyone really. The secret was eating me from the inside out. I could not take it any longer. The deal, the murders, it could not be held in anymore. I needed to tell someone, I needed to get it off my chest. “Oh no, here it comes, no the deal Chuck! Remember the deal.” I scream in my head.
“ Thomas, I killed her, I killed my mom…” I shout out staring directly into his eyes. Not one thing about me seemed as though I was kidding, he had to believe me. He looked at me with a weird face, as if I was crazy. The thought flew through my mind, maybe I really was. Maybe I was crazy, but either way I killed my mom, it was me.
“ You’re crazy shuck-face! Now stop talking crap and get your butt inside. Mom’s going to kill us if we aren’t in before dinner.” Thomas replied as he turned around laughing. He started walking up the beach, heading for the house. I was already halfway in, what did I have to lose? I might as well finish and save myself the dissapointment.
“ Thomas I’m not kidding. I killed her. I killed my own mother. There were no robbers, the whole thing was a lie! I did it, all me.” I scream at him, tears rush down my face. I look at my older cousin, we used to be so close before my real dad left. We used to talk all the time. It was different now, we were older.
“ What are you talking about Chuck?” He stopped walking and slowly turned around with question on his face.
“ Thomas it was August 16th, I walked home from school. When I entered the apartment I heard screaming. I dropped my bag and books immediately, I ran to the sound. It was coming from the bathroom. I ran down the hall to the noise and saw Mark and my mom in the bathtub fully clothed. I was so confused Tom, I stepped in the room to see them holding her down!”
Thomas interrupts, “ Who were they holding down Chuck?”
“ Thomas it was Susie. They were holding her underwater, she was freaking out. They were trying to kill her Tom, they wanted her to die. There were no robbers, the whole thing was lie.
“ Why would your mom want Susie dead?” Thomas asks.
“I dont know man, why would anyone want her dead. She was the happiest, prettiest girl I had ever known. My mom loved Mark more than us. That’s why they did it. Mark really hated Susie, maybe because she cried at night when she was scared. Or maybe the fact that she still needed parents to help her unlike me. Mark thought she was holding our family down, but in reality she was the only thing keeping me going. They were just trying to kill her, I screamed ‘Stop, what are you doing! Stop!’ a million times but they didn’t stop. They just held her down. I didn’t know what to do Thomas. So I just punched the mirror and took the broken glass. I grabbed the pieces and jumped on Mark, I tried stab him multiple times but he just kicked me off. His hands held her small head underwater, when I tried to pry them off her he just punch me in the face. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take Mark on so I went for my mother. I took the glass and jumped on her. She tried to throw me off but she was weak. I pinned her up against of white granite shower. I looked her straight in the eyes and stabbed her in the neck. Her legs kicked and she screamed for Mark! He rushed over and threw me off of her. I landed in the pile of shattered glass. I grabbed the sharpest piece I could find. In a full on charge, I ran at my mother. This time not for her neck, but for her heart. She was standing, dripping blood from her pale neck. Blood was smeared across the shower walls, the smell of flesh was overpowering. I took that piece of glass and wedged it in her heart. Straight in, there was no question that she was going to die Thomas. With the panic of my mom I had almost forgotten about my sister. I turned my attention back to her. Her arms bouncing around and her legs flinging into the air, she was screaming recklessly. Then she stopped Tom, just stopped. She never said ‘goodbye’, or ‘I love you’ just stopped moving in an instant. Mark and my mother laughed at me. Mark was on the ground holding my mother the second Susie stopped moving. And for me, I was in the tub shaking Susie. ‘Susie wake up! Please oh please wake up! Don’t die Susie, I love you’ I screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew she was gone though. Her face was blank, no emotion just a lifeless body in my arms. I started to hug her. I squeezed her so tight just hoping she would come back to life. Hoping that I could somehow magically save her with my love like in a fairytale, but I couldn’t. She didn’t wake up Tom, she didn’t move or talk ever again. My mother was on the ground hyperventilating in Mark’s arms. I sat Susie up against the wall and focused on my mom. I once loved my mom Thomas, I really did love her. My mind was filled with questions that she wouldn’t be able to answer in a few minutes. I walked over to her and looked her right in her evil brown eyes. ‘ Why would you kill her mom?’ That was all I needed to know, I thought my mom really loved us Tom, I guess not. I could see the blood draining from her body. She did not respond so I thought she had to be dead already. When I got up to walk back to Susie she said, ‘Chuck I love you…’ I turned around, the pain and anger rushed through my blood. I walked straight up to her and bent down until our faces were only inches apart. I could see the faint smile, I think she thought I was going to say it back. But I didn’t, instead of forgiving her or saying ‘I love you too’ I said ‘ I hate you mom’. I was not about to let her die happy when I would have to live the rest of my life in pain. I walked away, leaving Susie up against the wall. That’s how it all ended Thomas. That’s what really happened on August 16th. I tried to keep myself under control, but I knew that’s what Susie would have wanted. She would have done it for me.”
I look up from my feet, tears had fallen from my eyes, and to my surprise Thomas was now sitting next to me rubbing my back. He looked like he was in complete shock, but something about the way he looked at me told me he believed me. I had been talking a mile a minute, I had zoned out completely not worrying about what he thought. Thomas nodded in my direction, meaning for me to continue with the story. I for one trusted Thomas, I did not think he would tell anyone.
“ Well I went to my room. I sat on my blow up mattress and just stared at the walls. The fact that I lost the greatest person in my life was making me sick. I thought of all the possibilities of my sister. She was a sweet girl, always nice, she must be in heaven. Tom I really tried to think happy things but it was just to hard. I was throwing up every ten minutes, the sadness had made me sick. Mark came in later that night. I obviously did not want to talk to him. He said he had a plan to save both of us from jail so I let him in of course. I didn’t want to go to jail, I was willing to listen to what he was saying. He said we should make a ‘deal’. The deal was that we said he picked me up from school on August 16th. We were to tell the cops when we got home there was screaming and banging going on so he told me to stay in the hall. Then we would tell the cops there were robbers and that they ran out when Mark started yelling. The plan seemed foolproof to me Tom, at the time I didn’t care what we did, as long as I wasn’t going to jail I was happy. After that I didn’t move from my bed for three whole days, even when the cops came I stayed in my room. That little room was where the cops interrogated me, I would not leave. It was filled with memories of Susie and I, something I could not leave behind. You know the rest of the story. You know about the funerals and everything. So that’s what really happened Thomas. There were no robbers, it was all a big lie. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, and I wish it didn’t. I never said anything because of the deal. But I loved Susie, that’s why I killed my mom…” It was a relief to get that off my chest, now I just had to see how Thomas took it.
Before I knew it Thomas was hugging me. So tight and soft just like the hug I had given Susie. My whole life I had been waiting for someone to just love me no matter what, to always listen and be there. I had finally found that person, it was Thomas my cousin. Thomas loved me like I loved Susie, unconditionally.
“ Chuck” He started to say pulling away from me, “ I don’t know what to say…”
“ Then don’t say anything, ever! Please Thomas I beg of you, never tell anyone.” The question ran through my mind, what if he did tell?
“ No Chuck you can count on me. I promise I’ll never tell.”
“Ever?” I asked him while wiping the tears from my face.
“ Chuck I promise you! That will be our deal, okay?”
I never answered him, we just got up and went to dinner. Thomas and I had a deal to never tell and I knew as long as we both lived we would keep that deal. We walked up the beach and went into the tiny house like nothing had ever happened, we stuffed our faces with hamburgers and chocolate cake for dinner pretending everything was normal.
I spent the rest of my teenage years living with Uncle Jay, Aunt Beth and my cousins. When I graduated high school I attended Florida state to become a child psychologist. We all separated and moved away from home when we were grown up but every year on August 16th me and my older cousin Thomas went back to the little home that raised us. The police never found out about August 16th and even if they did I never got in trouble. For my step dad Mark I never found out what happened to him. He’s probably locked up somewhere far away. I didn’t care where he was because I knew I would always be safe thanks to my guardian angel, my sister Susie.Thomas and I kept the secret till our grave just like we promised on that cold December day. Thomas was the brother I never had and I loved him almost as much as I loved Susie. We never spoke of August 16th again just like Thomas had promised. I mean that was the deal, right?


The author's comments:
This piece was inspired by the book, "The Maze Runner", my seventh grade teacher made us write a piece with characters based off the book. While most kids decided to keep the plot of the maze runners real book, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and create a piece that would leave many wondering about the secrets of inner city families in contrast to others.

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