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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1557294-Family-Skeletons-revised
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1557294
Ciara runs away from her horrible reality but can she be happy or will she die trying?
Headlights swept the street, illuminating the world with a ghostly sheen. It was him, and I knew he was looking for me. I shrank deeper into the shadows of the alley and wished that I could just be invisible. The long, black car continued slowly down the street toward the heart of town.

         When it was safely out of sight, I released the breath I held. I put my head in my hands. Everything I owned sat in a bag next to me and I had no clue where to go. My mind ran wild trying to find a solution that would put the fewest people in the path of his rage. 

         “What do I do now?” I whispered into the silence. The only reply was a strange squeal from the enormous rat that scurried past my feet. “Think, Ciara, think.” I couldn’t stay in the alley much longer because he would be back. Joe would leave absolutely no stone unturned. I already knew what would happen when he found me. He would take me right there between the bags of trash, enjoying the pain the rough concrete would cause me. Once his nearly insatiable appetite was satisfied, he would drag me back to Hell by my hair so he could make me pay over and over again. It wouldn’t be the first time either.

         I fingered the faded scar across my right wrist. The jagged, horizontal line whose twin rested on my left wrist, reminded me of where my one safe place was. It was about three hours away in a house in Monticello with Heath. I traced it with my fingertips remembering the night he became my one, true ally.

         I was fourteen and Joe snuck in my room like he did nearly every night. I huddled in bed and prayed that it wouldn’t happen again but it did anyway. He was drunk and angry. He knew what I tried to tell Libby earlier and he wanted me to feel his wrath. The fact that she didn’t believe a word did not mean a thing. It was the first time that I couldn’t pretend my way out of the room. His violent blows kept my mind centered in the present and pinned me in my personal prison. I remembered the bloodstained sheets after he left and my dazed retreat to the tree house my daddy built for me and my friends and me to play in when I was five or six.

         I could still feel the dull pain as the razor’s cold surface bit through each wrist as clearly as if I were still sitting in that ragged old chair. I had no goodbyes to say and there was no one that I would miss. I just wanted out. Heath found me. He saw the flicker of my flashlight in the tree house windows and went to investigate. Unlike most people, he didn’t scream when he found me. He didn’t rush me to my parents’ house for Libby and Joe to take care of me either. Instead, he gathered me up in his arms and ran back to his parents’ house to call 911. He lived next door to us for as long as I could remember and I always thought he could see through my stepfather’s disguise.

         I checked the streets one more time. When I was certain that it was deserted, I slung my bag over my shoulder and ran as fast as I could away from town. I always loved running. I was number one on our track team at school. To me, running was like flying and I was never more free than when I could hear my sneakers pounding the ground.

         The light fog helped to keep me hidden and I stayed in the shadows as much as possible. Still, every time a car approached my heart nearly stopped. The drivers didn’t even acknowledge me, though. If I believed in God, I would have said He was on my side. But I knew God didn’t exist, not for me anyway. I finally stopped to take a breath a few miles outside of town. I knew I needed faster transportation and I cursed Joe silently for forbidding me to have a license.

         Joe believed “ladies should not drive, they should be driven” and Libby agreed. She always agreed with Joe. She even gave up her own license and sold the pretty convertible she drove before Daddy died. Because of his insane ideas I was the only seventeen year old in school without a car. As nice as my driver was, I didn’t trust him.

         Thanks to the large amounts of cash that Libby always carried in her purse, I had plenty of money for bus fare but there was no bus station close. It was too late to catch one anyway. The only option left was hitching. Great. Taking a deep breath, I flagged down the next car. The silver Explorer slowed to a stop and the window rolled down revealing a pretty blond in the driver’s seat.

         “Where ya headed, Hon?” the lady asked. She seemed alright. She was young, probably in her late twenties and very pretty. Her golden hair was twisted into a French knot and a pair of forgotten sunglasses rested on the top of her head.

         “Monticello, near the university. I’ll go as far as you can take me,” I blurted out.

         “Hop in. I’ll take ya the whole way,” she said, smiling, “I’m going straight through there.” I could tell by her accent that she wasn’t from the area. That made me trust her more. It was less likely that she knew Joe and she wouldn’t bring me back there. I ran to the other side of the car and slid in before she changed her mind, heaving a sigh of relief as I shut the door. Before long, my whole body relaxed.

         “I-I have money for gas,” I told her, digging through my bag.

         “Oh don’t you even worry about that. Your money is no good here,” she replied, “You got a place to stay?”

         “I have...an address,” I said. I dug out the stack of letters from Heath. He wrote me at least once a week and mailed the letters to my best friend, Sadie’s house. Her parents were never at home in time to check the mail anyway and I kept the letters with me at all times to be sure Joe never found out about them.

         “What’s your name, Sugar?” she asked. The letters didn’t have my name on them, just Sadie’s address and Heath’s.

         “Ciara,” I said, looking out the window. I deliberately left my last name off. I would always be Ciara Ellis, not Ciara Covington. I was my daddy’s girl.

         “Well, Ciara, I’m Holly,” she said smiling at me. I smiled back. “You know, you really should be more careful. Hitching is dangerous. There are a lot of crazies out there.”

I knew she was trying to be nice but I simply turned back to her, looking directly in her eyes.

         “I have nothing to lose.”

         “Well, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll get you where you need to be.” She had a sad look in her eyes and I almost felt like she understood exactly what I meant. Holly turned on the radio, leaving the volume low and I drifted off to sleep. I woke a few hours later to Holly’s manicured hands shaking me gently. We weren’t moving anymore and I forgot where I was for a minute. I nearly panicked.

         “We’re here, Hon,” she said when my eyes fluttered open. The sun was beginning to rise and that’s when it hit me. I made it! The house was painted an incongruous shade of red but it was beautiful to me. There was a big, white door and leafy green shrubs lined the sidewalk.

         “Thank you! Thank you so much, Holly!” I cried. I was halfway out of the car already but I leaned back in and threw my arms around her. “You have no idea how much this means to me!” My excitement made her laugh.

         “Oh, I think I do,” Holly said. She handed my letter back to me. “Good luck, Sweet Heart.” She winked at me and I bounded up the walkway to Heath’s. I hesitated for a moment. What if he changed his mind? What if I was too much trouble? What if he didn’t want me around? What if he was angry?

         I pushed those thoughts aside and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the door swung open and a very sleepy-looking Heath stood in front of me. His sandy blond hair was rumpled from a night of tossing and turning. He wore a pair of boxer shorts and a plain, white tee shirt but he looked perfect to me. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

         “Cici? Oh my God, is that you?” he asked. He called me Cici ever since he was three. My dad used to call me that name before he died, too. Heath wrapped his arms around me and I melted into his embrace. That’s when it happened. I broke down and the floodgates opened wide.

         Heath guided me inside and locked the door securely behind us. The sobs racked my body for what seemed like hours. More than four years of unreleased grief poured from me while Heath caressed my hair and kissed the top of my head.

         “You ran, didn’t you?” he asked when I began to regain my composure. I looked up at him with tears still in my blue eyes and nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. He pulled me closer and muttered something that sounded like “You’re safe. I won’t let that monster hurt you again.” All my fears from before were erased and I knew nothing bad could happen to me because Heath was here. I hoped.

         Even though I trusted Heath, I was a nervous wreck and the first several days passed slowly. I refused to go outside, avoided the windows at all costs, and jumped at every little noise. Heath had to attend classes and I shut myself tightly inside the house. Heath was great, though. He immediately worked to make sure I was comfortable and had the things I needed. When his roommates’ girlfriend heard about my situation, she brought a box of her old clothes for me. She used some of the money I stole from Libby to buy the other things I needed, too. It was hard not to loosen up when they were being so nice and I liked Amy’s hand-me-downs much better than the designer clothes Joe bought for me every season.

         Amy was surprised by my last request, though. In fact, everyone was. I wanted her to cut my hair. It was almost down to my waist. Joe liked to keep my auburn curls long but I could feel his dirty hands in them all the time. I couldn’t stand it anymore. She finally gave in after a compromise on the length. We agreed to cut it just below my shoulders.

         On Saturday, Heath decided that I had to get out of the house. My face hadn’t been touched by sunlight since before I arrived and he said I was in desperate need of the Great Outdoors. 

         “Come on, Cici, it’s a beautiful day. Some Sunshine will do you good,” Heath said. He wanted to go hiking and I was still unsure. “Ciara, if he hasn’t come yet, he probably isn’t going to. You’re safe, no one even knows about us. Please? For me?” He looked ridiculous standing in front of me with his hands clasped like a child begging for a new toy. I couldn’t help but laugh.

         “Alright, alright,” I said, still laughing, “Quit begging you look like a puppy.”

         “I knew you would see things my way!” he said. His enthusiasm was contagious and it really had been forever since we were able to just have fun together. I nearly skipped up the stairs to change. I wore a pair of gray sweatpants, a dark purple tee shirt, Heath’s Cardinals cap, and a pair of large, Audrey Hepburn-style sunglasses. We pretended to be celebrities running from the paparazzi as we dashed from the house to the truck. He nearly pulled my arm out of the socket, he was running so fast. We probably looked more than a little comical hiding our faces as if there really was a crowd of unwanted photographers gathered around. We collapsed on each other in the truck and I was still laughing as we pulled away from the curb. He did a great job of keeping the mood light.

         Before I knew it, we were at the base of the mountain. I lifted my face to the sky and soaked up all the sun possible. It really did rejuvenate me. Heath slung the pack over his shoulder and walked over to join me.

         “You look better already,” he said and gave me a kiss. “Come on, let’s get started.” He nodded to the path and we began our hike. I actually did pretty well at first. There was a lingering sense of foreboding but I told myself it was just paranoia. Then, I tripped over a small branch laying in the path. When I looked up, Heath was gone. I immediately panicked, screaming his name and frightening every animal within a fifty mile radius. In seconds, he was back at my side. His eyes were filled with concern that turned to pain when he saw me.

         “I’m here. I’m so sorry, baby, sorry. You’re safe,” he said squeezing me tight. I felt like an idiot for making such a fuss.

         “I-I’m okay. I’m sorry.” I felt the blush heating up my cheeks.

         “It’s not your fault,” he replied and took my hand to continue our journey. He didn’t so much as leave my side the rest of the time. He patiently helped me over the rough patches in the trail and we finally made it to the top.

         I didn’t realize how hungry I was until he retrieved some PB&J sandwiches. They were always my favorite and I ended up eating three. The sun began to set as we polished off the last of the sandwiches and gazed at the view before us. Laying in his arms watching the sunset was more perfect than I could have dreamed and I definitely didn’t want to leave. We didn’t make it home until well after dark and that was fine by me. The fresh air did me a world of good and I was more peaceful than I had ever been.

         “Wait, I need to get something from the shed,” Heath said when I started to go inside. He motioned for me to follow him but all I wanted to do was change clothes. What I wore was beyond dirty from all the times I fell on the way up the mountain.

         “It’s okay, you go ahead. I’ll see you inside,” I told him.

         “You sure?” He looked the same way I did when he tried to persuade me to go hiking. His face was full of worry. I guess I’m not the only paranoid one here, I thought.

         “Positive.” I gave him a kiss and went inside. I tossed his hat and the keys on a table in the hallway and went up to our room. I still felt bad about him sleeping on the floor. I pulled a pair of his shorts out because they were much more comfortable than mine. The door slammed but I figured it was Heath so I didn’t pay attention to it. I was very wrong.

         “You little slut!” a deep voice bellowed behind me. I knew that voice all too well and it chilled the blood in my veins. I couldn’t move. How the hell did he get in here? What did he do to Heath? “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? Or did you think your little boyfriend would keep you all safe?” He was standing right behind me and his odor made me gag. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he growled and spun me around violently so that our faces were only centimeters apart. The stench of whisky mixed with the pain of his hands on my flesh and awakened the fire within me. It was going to end there or I was going to go out fighting.

         “Let go of me, Joe,” I said more confidently than I felt. When he didn’t obey, I spat in his face and struggled with all the strength in me. That only fueled his anger and he threw me to the bed, nailing me in place by thrusting his knee deep into my abdomen. I ignored the pain that every movement brought and fought against what I knew was the inevitable. He took off his belt with one hand and unbuttoned his pants with the other. I squeezed my eyes shut and swung my fists in a desperate attempt to cause him at least a small amount of pain. My punch was followed by a harsh blow to the side of my face. He crawled on top of me and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

         “Your cute little friend, Sadie, didn’t fight this hard. She behaved real nice.” I felt his hands slither beneath my shirt and rip it open. That broke something inside of me and I started screaming as loud as I could.

         Suddenly, his weight was gone and I heard a woman’s bloodcurdling scream. I opened my eyes to find Libby pressed against the wall. Her blue eyes were the size of saucers and she covered her mouth with both hands. She was staring at me. The sound of struggle next to the bed drew my eyes to where Heath and Joe wrestled against one another. Without thinking, I grabbed the bedside lamp and swung it the way my daddy taught me to swing a baseball bat. There was a loud crack when it connected with the back of Joe’s head and his body went limp. Heath stared at me in amazement for a moment before rising to take me in his arms. That was when I remembered Libby.

         The look on her face was heartbreaking and she slowly backed out of the room. I knew, deep down, I wanted her to stay. I wanted desperately for things to go back to the way they were before she married Joe.

         “Mom!” I cried, using the name for the first time since I was fourteen. I reached out for her, hoping she could do it but she was already in the hallway next to the banister that overlooked the living room. Without a word, she turned, smiling briefly, and then jumped.



© Copyright 2009 Brittney Lynn (modernjuliet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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