Shattered

Chapter One

My heart began to race “thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump.” My lips started to quiver and become tense. The tears fall from my eyes like water from a kitchen sink splashing onto my t-shirt. With hand trembling I reached for the door, carefully stepping over his cold bloody body that lay motionless on the apartment floor. The door knob turned with such ease. “Was I finally going to escape?” I thought to myself. As the door opened the bright sun filled the room. I closed my eyes and felt a bit relieved as the sun heated my body. When I opened them...I realized...I was only dreaming.
He still sat in the dark burnt-brown chair that sat in the far corner of the apartment, reading the news paper. Occasionally he peered over at me with those cold dark-blue eyes, only to make sure I still sat on the leather couch. I moved a little, putting my hand against my head. He put the news paper down and stood up.
He was a six foot tall man. His resemblance was somewhat of a child, with his chubby face, yet he was built was that of a man. Every other aspect of him was very rough. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in months and he always wore the dark-blue Levi jeans with a black button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his biceps. I looked at him then turned my stare to the black stain on the white carpet. He laughed a little then sat back down in the chair picking the news paper up again.
Five months...five months I’ve heard that laugh with every move I made. I tried not to show the fear and anger I had built up inside me. Tapping my fingers against my knee I thought of a plan. All I need is a minute alone and I can get away. Seven feet to the door, five to the stairs, ten to the pavement, and twenty-two to the gas station across the street. I had walked many times with him over to that gas station, counting every step. Those numbers play over in my head. Seven...five...ten...twenty-two...if only he would leave Just for a minute I could get away. Yet he doesn’t move. He sits there reading the paper and laughing. I close my eyes and the tears start to slowly fall as I think of the day it happened....
I woke up around seven-thirty to catch the bus. I looked at my clock, then slowly pulled myself out of bed, pushing back the hair from my eyes. I walked down the hall way to the bathroom thinking about the dance mom and dad were letting me go to later that night. I tried to open the bathroom door, but it was locked. “Chris Come on I’m gonna be late ” I yelled. Chris was my half brother. Three years younger than me, yet he acted as if he was an adult already. The door slowly opened and he came out carrying the Harry Potter book under his right arm. Chris was about five foot four, bright red, curly hair, and glasses. His face was covered in acne and freckles. I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. I went to the sink and peered into the mirror. My hair, a burnt reddish color, fell onto my shoulders. I grabbed the straightener and plugged it into the outlet. Opening the medicine cabinet I grabbed my tooth brush and tooth paste.
I put on my favorite white dress that came down a little below my knees.
After slipping on my black sandals I grabbed my school books and the keys to my parent’s ‘67 ford mustang and headed out the door. The car was going to be mine in three months, after I graduated. It was bright blue with black leather interior. It still had a new car smell to it.
I opened the door, throwing my books into the passenger seat as I got in. I put the key in the ignition and turned it slowly. The sound it made as it started was so clear as though it had never been driven before. The feeling I got as I turned the key was like a rush of energy; a feeling of freedom. When I drove this car it was like I owned the world and nothing could hurt me. I put on my seat belt and looked in the rear view mirror making sure none of my little sisters things were behind my car. I pulled out the drive way and started down the road....
That morning I can remember the most. The last time I saw them....I opened my eyes again and looked over at him. He still sat there reading. I looked back at the floor and wiped my eyes.
5:30...I looked at the clock, then let out a long yawn. The day had seemed to go by so slow. He was now in the kitchen. I could hear the pots and pans hitting around. Every few minutes he looked through the space above the counter to make sure I was still there.
I looked at him for a moment then reverted my gaze back to the spot on the carpet. That one spot seemed to mock me. It seemed so dark and cold, yet it was the only thing I found comfort in. Even he couldn’t take that spot away from me.
As I sat there at the kitchen table the sound of him eating made me sick to my stomach. I looked at him in disgust as he shoved a spoon full of mashed potatoes in his mouth. My stomach seemed to sink deep into my spine as I tried to swallow without gagging.
As I pushed the green beans around on my plate I began to remember the night before the concert and the family dinner. The smell of fried chicken and fresh baked roles permeated the air. Dad sat at the head of the old maple wood table laughing at my little sister as she played with her fork. Her curly blond hair bounced around as she grinned from ear to ear.
Mom put the salad bowl on the table in front of Chris and he shook his head in discussed.
“ How was school today kids?” my dad asked looking straight at me with a serious face. Mom must have told him about the message my geometry teacher left on the answering machine.
“It was school dad.” I replied trying to divert my attention to the food on my plate. Chris began talking about his rugby game and I just looked around at everyone.....
Suddenly he nudged my arm.
“Ain’t you goin to eat?” he said now tearing another piece of chicken off the bone. I simply looked at him then pushed the mashed potatoes around on my plate.