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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1327482-With-Trembling-Hands
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Drama · #1327482
Short story about a girl in pain and how she copes with it.
    It’s not fair, she told herself for the tenth time that morning.  Kristen knew whining about the state of her life would not change anything.  Too bad there isn’t a way I could just run away . . . does anyone notice me; do they really see me anymore?
        “Ms. Ross,” Mr. Goodley cleared his throat, “Are you paying attention?”  Standing in front of the classroom, Mr. Goodley looked intimidating even from far away.  Kristen immediately picked up her pencil and began to doodle. 
        In the midst of drawing a broken heart dripping with blood, Kristen felt a piece of notebook paper hit her foot.  She glanced at the clock on the white-washed walls, only five more minutes left.  Reluctantly, Kristen picked up the note from under her desk.  She did not really want to read it.  She heard a snicker behind her urging her to read the note.  Mr. Goodley was engrossed in discussing the highly detailed process of the greenhouse effect.
        Why can’t he say anything interesting, or see me with this unopened note.  I don’t want to read it.  Do I have to see it?
        “Read it, you freak.  Or do you even know how to read?”  the red-haired boy behind her whispered.
        Kristen felt the word “freak” sting like a bee.  She tried not to let them know how much their words could hurt her so the others would not notice her so much.  Kristen, feeling like she only had one option, opened the crumpled note.  She laid it flat across the brown desk; hopefully no one would see what it said.  She looked at it in disgust with hints of a tear welling in her eyes.  Mr. Goodley must have wanted to join in the fun because he chooses that moment to walk over to Kristen’s desk.
        “Ms. Ross.  Didn’t I tell you to pay attention?  What is this garbage that you are passing to all your friends here?  Is it so much more interesting than my class?”  Goodley held his hand out.  “Now Ms. Ross, I’ll not ask you twice.”
        Kristen handed over the hate filled paper.  As Mr. Goodley read it aloud, he cleared his throat.  “Kristen.  What is wrong with you?  Why can’t you be normal like the rest of us?  Is your mom really…”  Mr. Goodley’s voice faded off as his eyes passed his voice.  “Kristen, see me after class please.”
        Kristen fought the tears back as the class erupted in spiteful laughter.

        “Hey Kristen!”  Tom shouted from across the hall.  He rushed up to greet her.  “Why were you late out of class?  Did old man Goodley hark on you again?”  Tom was the talk of the entire school. All the girls thought he was a total hottie.  Kristen could never see him that way. She knew his dark secret; no girl would ever please him.
        “I don’t want to talk about it Tom.”  Kristen made like she had somewhere to be.
        “What’s the matter with you lately?  Has Jamie been here?” Tom stood in front of her to prevent her from running away.  “You’ve been really down in the dumps.  I think the chemicals you used to dye your hair purple must have seeped into your brain.”
        Kristen sighed, knowing she could not get away from Tom.  “It was those assholes in science class.  Thinking they are so far above me because I dress different and my life is harder than theirs.”  Not wanting another water works display, Kristen tried to walk around Tom.
        Tom brushed a badly dyed purple strand of hair from Kristen’s face, “Now don’t let them get to your sweetie.  We’ve been through too much to stop fighting for those jerks.”
        Kristen shook her head, the tears magically disappearing.  “I won’t” She smiled at Tom which was the first smile that she could remember.  “Do I have to go home?”
        Frowning, Tom sighed, “You have to, my dad needs me at home, but maybe later this weekend I will drive by and check on you.”
        “Please . . . “


        Kristen got off the bus and resisted with every bone in her body to run into her room and sleep forever.  She had been doing that a lot lately.  Ever since her dad left and took her sister, He didn’t want her.  Too much of a hassle.  Loud.  Alone, Kristen turned to her mother.  Alone, Kristen’s mother had turned back to drugs and men.
        It’s so unfair. Kristen thought as she walked up her drive-way. I try to be a good kid.  I had the grades.  I had the friends.  I had everything.  Why did my daddy leave me?  I thought a year would cover the pain.  Mom would rather find solace in other men, but she really just wants dad back.  She was so pretty then.  Where did that prettiness go?
        Her mom said the dark clothes and heathen music was just a phase.  Kristen was just searching for a way to cope with life.  Kristen’s mom said that she should just grow up and accept life.  She also thought Kristen should get another job; she should learn to carry her own weight.
        Kristen reached her house to see the door just hardly open.  She pushed gently to see the new man of the week asleep in his drunken stupor on the couch.  She thought this one’s name was Albert. Well, at least my name isn’t Albert.  Thankfully this time Albert was dressed.  He had wrecked the living room though.  Kristen was afraid to clean it in case she woke him up.  He did not even have a job.  All he did was lie around the house.  She hoped he would be gone soon.  She had a bad feeling about this one.  He hit her mom once, but he promised never to do it again.  Promise.
        She slipped into her room, quietly closing the door.  She wished she had a lock, but her mom took it away.  Her mom wanted to be able to steal Kristen’s money while she was gone.  She told Kristen that it was a risk, and that there should be no locked up secrets now that dad was gone.  Everything felt gone.  Her heart.  Her soul.  Everything.  Gently sleepover took her.


        The sound of shouting tore Kristen from her dreamless sleep.  Albert was yelling at her mother for some stupid reason or another.  Suddenly Kristen heard a SMACK, and there was no more yelling.  Mom stopped fighting.  Kristen hated the fact that they beat her mother, but she felt so helpless. 
        The SMACK came again, but this time on her door.  “Wake up you good for nothing slut!”  Albert was extremely drunk. The door swung open allowing the bright yellow light from the hall to enter.  The smell of alcohol permeated the whole house at this point, and a huge shadowy figure billowed through the door.
          “All you ever do is sleep.  Why can’t you act like normal girls? Jesus!  What the hell is wrong with you… maybe you need a man in your life.”  Albert grabbed at Kristen who was curdled up in her bed, hoping that he wouldn’t know she was there.  He grabbed her leg.  Kristen kicked him. SMACK.  He pointed out in the hall, “Look at this fucking dirty house!  Your mother and I work very hard to feed your fat ass and what thanks do you give us?  You need to clean this pigsty up.  You are the laziest girl I’ve ever met.  No wonder your own dad did not want you.”
        Albert pulled Kristen out of bed and slammed her against her wall.  He also slammed the door shut.  Kristen sank to the floor, trying to get away. NO!  I won’t cry, not this time.  He doesn’t deserve that. Albert stumbled toward the closet where Kristen had hid herself. 
        “Come here little slut.  Let Daddy show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”  He found her.  SMACK. Kristen felt the calluses on his hands across her face.  He grabbed her arm. She felt his naked knee pressing between her legs. SMACK.  Blackness overcame Kristen; she didn’t even have a chance to cry.
         
        Kristen woke up in her bed.  Her whole body ached.  She could feel many bruises beginning to show their purple faces.  She tried not to think about what Albert had done.  She felt dirty. Slut.  Kristen slowly sat up and looked at the room around her. Normal. Poster of gothic art stared back at her without any sign of warmth. Dirty.  She did not care anymore. Freak.  Where was her safe place? Jamie.  What is the point? Trapped. How can she get away? Caged.  Does anyone love me?  Abandoned.
        Kristen ran into the bathroom, grabbing everything she could find.  This is man’s cure for pain.  Make it stop!   It was not long until Kristen felt the sweet chemical’s filling her blood.  Gently sleep overcame her. Goodnight Mommy.

        Maybe I’m not supposed to be loved.  I must have done something very wrong.  Where is my Daddy? Daddy, why didn’t you save me?  Did you know he would hurt me like this? Don’t blame Mommy; she just doesn’t know what to do without you.  It’s not her fault.  She always thought I was pretty.  Am I pretty now?  Jamie, you did this too.  I trusted you.  I loved you.  I hurt so badly. Make it stop, please!
        “Kristen!”  Mom was screaming. “Baby, please wake up!”
        Kristen tried to open her eyes.  There was her mother.  God, she looked pretty. What happened to you mother?  I love you.  But she couldn’t get the words out.  Why are you crying mommy?  I don’t hurt anymore.  Did Daddy see how pretty you are?  How could he forget?
        “Baby! My baby!”  Was she wailing now? “I’m so sorry baby!”
        I don’t want to go! Kristen tried to fight. I forgive you Mommy!  Sleep was coming fast to take her away.  She could not run from it.  The darkness crawled across her eyes. Save me! It was here.  Is this what death feels like? God, forgive me.
       
© Copyright 2007 SarahSedaii (sdrapkin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1327482-With-Trembling-Hands