More Then They Know

June 23, 2011
Life is real, miracles are our imagination, fate, it doesn’t exist, it’s all one big mistake. For me anyway, no one can be trusted in my eyes. Each living creature is just going to break your heart and destroy you piece by piece until there’s nothing left to break. They’ll keep doing it even after your broken, like kicking a dead dog. I broke years ago, years that flew by in agonizing pain. The type of pain that makes you indestructible, gives you attitude, secludes you from society, it makes you unbreakable after your already broken. Doesn’t make any sense, does it? Nope. But hey, that’s life.
Loner, depressed, gone, freak, quiet, lost, misfit, smart, talent, raw, difference, change, are the words floating around me as I walk by. Little do they know that I can hear, but it’s high school nothing’s going to change there. I hear them talk about me, everyone does. The sweet little girl who changed one summer. It wasn’t a fast change, all it took was two months for the fierce and hopeful person inside me to turn silent and guarded. The things that I loved, the things that I dreamed for, the chance at normality at the tip of my pale fingertips, ripped away in an instance.
What caused this big change you may ask? One two dollar shot of vodka on a Thursday night and anything joyful was thrown out the door. He drinks. He hits. He’s evil. He destroyed everything I worked so hard for, everything I built. I regained hope though and a sense of life in a surprising person. It all started on a Tuesday at the end of an average school day…
I rushed down the crowded hallway. If I was late he would be angry and I would get it extra thick if I wasn’t there on time. Mr. Bennett held me back to congratulate me on being the only person with a hundred percent on the test. I didn’t care he could of done that in class and I wouldn’t be embarrassed because it would have been forgotten about at the end of the class period.
As I ran I bumped into Melanie, but I didn’t bother apologizing because she didn’t deserve it and I was in a hurry. Of course, she has to pick today to be the day to bite me out. She practically ripped my arm off as she spun me around to face her. Mel’s face was red with rage and she started yelling nonsense about respect and bumping into people. A group had formed around us and then she started going off about me being an unresponsive freak that never uttered a sound and should be locked up in the luney-bin. That would be my father sweetie, not me. I started to pry her fingers off while saying, “I gotta go,” impatiently.
“WHAT!” she shrieked.
“I gotta go,” and finally ripped her daggers of nails out of my arm. I started running, but she grabbed me again and looked at me in disbelief.
“I gotta go,” I said again and pulled away. She pulled back her arm ready to swing and when I thought it was the end for me because I was never going to get out of here, someone pulled me out of the way. I slammed into their rock hard chest as they started to ask me if I was okay. All I said was:
“I gotta go,” I whispered with fear and he started to nod, but I ran out of there as fast as I could manage. I forgot to say thank you, but I would eventually. While I ran, I remembered it was Nick Smithington, the most popular guy in school. I started to curse, but thought differently of that with all the old ladies surrounding me. I might even make it home on time.
I ran into the small house and made my father a turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mayo, and onions on white bread. I set it on a plate, grabbed him a beer, and set it softly onto the warped coffee table and turned it to his favorite channel. I waited. He was late which isn’t exactly a good sign for me. The front door crashed open, he looked as if he had been enjoying himself before, but when he saw me his smile was replaced with a scowl and smacked me across the face for no apparent reason and laid down. I watched him ignore his sandwich and drank the beer I had to replace because it had gotten warm from him being late.
I sat there staring off into space and didn’t notice him sit up and walk towards me. It was very early for his daily beating. I felt him rip my ponytail out of its holder and gasped at the sudden pain,
“You like that don’t you?” he whispered angrily in my ear. He pulled again and I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t even need to listen to know what he was saying in my right ear, I’ve heard them at least once a day for the past seven years. I pretended to cry in pain when he wanted me to, I’ve learned to go numb, used to the pain. Nothing could come past me, remember I was unbreakably broken.
He stopped very sudden, tired and was about to pass out any second when the doorbell rang and he gave me the look that said, “Don’t you dare say anything, or you know what will happen.” I did know and didn’t want to elaborate on that path. I pulled my hair around my face to cover up the red marks and forming bruises.
I opened the door and was speechless. Nick Smithington was standing there with a sheepish grin in place.
“What do you want?” I all but hissed.
“I-I-I just wanted to talk to you, can I come in and chat for a bit?”
“NO!” I screamed and slammed the door in his face. The look on his face was priceless, what I would give to be able to let him in and have an actually conversation with him. This was life and in life you didn’t get chances like that; well at least not in my life. I bet Melanie got to have Nick Smithington show up on her doorstep everyday to chat. I sighed and walked back to my father and tied my hair up in a bun. He was sitting; watching the game and smiled at me pointing at the chair to sit.
I did as told and worked on my homework while he watched the game; never once did I look at the man I called a father; just kept my eyes on the papers in front of me. My ticket to freedom.
He fell asleep right as the game ended and I stayed in the chair for another hour or so to make sure he was actually asleep. Once my homework was completed, I stood up and cleaned up his food and drink, did the dishes, and threw on my thin black coat I’ve had for three years and stepped into the chilly night. I walked down the silent street and thought to myself. I felt guilty for not saying thank you to Nick, to tell him how much I was grateful for saving me from Melanie. The thought of letting him in though caused me to shiver and I sighed knowing I’d never build the courage to say thanks. To tell someone the truth of what happened would be better than anything in the world, but I knew it would just cause me more problems. I bared with this for seven years, one more couldn’t hurt. Once I turned eighteen and graduated high school; I would be gone. Off to college far away from here. I had about ten grand in a bank account for college and then the money I’ve been saving. Plus if I get a scholarship then I just might be able to get through this on my own.
I opened the door to the local gas station and picked up a 12 pack of beer for my father and a package of Oreos for me. The owner of the shop allowed me to buy beer for my father, knowing the situation I was in. Anybody who knew ‘bout the deal we had didn’t tell and I was grateful for that. I mean we’ve had this arrangement since I was twelve. He smiled sadly at me as I went up to pay and asked if it was bad tonight. I told him no, it wasn’t very rough and he nodded knowingly. I thanked him and set off to the old town park. They had built a new one and nobody comes here anymore, especially at eleven thirty at night.
I opened the cookies and dug in. My lunch was an apple I was able to steal out of someone’s locker and breakfast was a piece of plain toast. I had to save food and when I earned enough money over the month I would buy something like Oreos or Lays if I could afford. Father made money but he had me spend it on alcohol and surprisingly he kept track of what was spent and how. So it wasn’t like I could buy something without him knowing.
I sat on the rusted merry-go-round, spinning in small circles and sighing in delight. It brought back happy memories from when I was a kid and used to be normal. When I had friends who cared, a mom who was still there, when my father was loving and taught me how to throw a baseball and how to punch a boy in the face. The happy memories that would resurface were never this strong and I hated how small and vulnerable I felt when the thought invaded my mind. I let out a shaky breath and silently chewed on my cookies in sorrow. I was wallowing in my own self pity. I knew I shouldn’t be sad, or pitiful on my self. I just couldn’t stop though, it felt a little better to feel bad and sulk. I sucked it up though and thought of ways to finish my English assignment in time with everything going on.
I heard footsteps coming from the woods and stiffened automatically. A tall figure stepped out dressed in jeans, black t-shirt, pair of Chucks, and the guy had blond hair and green eyes. I didn’t scream, feeling relieved that if this stranger wanted to kill me then I would be glad to rid of this life forced upon me. The figure didn’t strike or scream as I hoped, instead he sat down next to me and turned to face me. In the moonlight I saw the face of the intruder and sighed sadly, knowing my death wasn’t coming anywhere soon. Nick Smithington was sitting before me in all of his hot glory and I saw him smile when I didn’t scream or run away from his presence.
“Hey,” he whispered. I stared into his emerald colored eyes and smiled slightly. Why he would want to talk to me, I’ll never know, but it’s worth a shot.
“Hey,” I whispered back and followed his line of vision and it was straight at the beer.
“It’s not mine. It’s for my father. He, uh, refuses to buy it himself.” I explained hoping to change the topic.
The air was stale and I could feel his stare on me as I looked at the ground embarrassed. Hoping he wouldn’t question too much and I sighed internally knowing that it was never going to happen as he stared at my face. I felt his rough calloused, but yet somehow smooth hand lifted my hair back and stared at the bruises. He lifted up my jacket sleeves and gasped. I closed my eyes as his fingers ran down the length of my arm. He stood me up and lifted up my jacket and shirt half way to stare at my bare midriff. I shivered as the cold air hit my back and torso. He spun me around and glanced at all the bruises dug into my back. I think there might be a pair of handprints still there from a few days ago. I couldn’t be sure, I really didn’t like to assess my damages more than once after they happen.
“How long,” he whispered as he pulled my shirt and jacket back down. He looked into my eyes and I looked into his.
“Seven years,” I whispered and felt a few tears slip out. I cursed myself internally for showing weakness. I thought he was going to laugh, or run away, even start to call people to tell them my pathetic little story. Instead he pulled me into a bone crushing hug and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I sobbed into his shoulder, letting it all out. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear while rubbing soothing circles in my back as I let out all the pain and frustration from the past years out.
He stroked my hair and told me everything was going to be alright and surprisingly I believed him. I put all the trust I had built into him and I sobbed more at the thought of spilling my guts to Nick Smithington and never thought this would happen in a million years, but it did, and it happened to me. I soaked his shirt and he didn’t seem to mind. My arms fastened themselves around his neck and after my sobs subsided I buried my head in his chest.
“I’m going to take you to my house, okay? We’re going to talk to my parents and the police and figure this out. I’m going to help you through this Mandy. Okay, we’re going to get through this.” He told me. I looked up at him, my eyes questioning his actions of wanting to help me.
He chuckled at my expression, and lightly rested a hand on my cheek.
“Don’t tell me you never noticed the fact that I’ve had a crush on you since we were thirteen.” he laughed again. I shook my head violently no, and stared at him in disbelief at the new revelation made. He pulled me into a tight hug and I told him everything that’s happened in the past seven years as we walked to his house.
Let’s just say that everything that happened the rest of the night and the next day was such a blur it would take three hours to explain the first hour of what happened. Let’s just say my point of views on life are so much more positive than before it’s sickeningly scary.
I sat on the hood of Nick’s car at Penn State, while he took pictures for his class. Nick majored in photography while I majored in philosophy and physiology. I laughed and smiled as he made funny faces. Things were good, not perfect we still had our fights and rough patches, but we stayed through the thick and thin. My father was in jail for life somewhere in Wyoming. Don’t ask why. Since my mother died in a car crash when I was ten, which I survived; my dad always blamed me for her death and I used to believe him and sometimes it’s still there.
I got off the hood and kissed him fully on the lips, relishing in the taste of him. I smiled and rested my head on his rock hard chest.
One day down, many more to go…

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