Goodbye Teddy
Page 24
He tries to get his arms all the way around so they are at the front, but he can’t do it. He can’t get his feet through the gap. He falls over again and then we laugh because he rolls around on the floor. I let him get out. Then he wants to do it to me, he ties my hands behind my back but he isn’t very good at tying knots and I get my hands out of it. He says I am a cheater. He has to do it again.
I have an idea. I get a scarf and then I tie it around his eyes. I tie his hands too and then I spin him all about. I tell him he has to walk all the way along the kitchen and he isn’t allowed to bang into anything. He can’t, he is dizzy and it makes him wobble. He bangs into the table and things. He can’t walk because he laughs too much about it. He shakes his head to make the blindfold fall off, I tell him he is cheating too.
When I untie his hands, he puts the blindfold on me. He makes it tight. I tell him because he pulls my hair and it squashes my eyes. It makes them hurt. I can’t see. He says he is going to tie my hands behind my back. But he still can’t do it and I get out of it very easy. He gets mad about it. He tells me to stop it, but I laugh. I can get out of them all the time.
He makes me walk into the lounge. He asks my mum if she can tie them so I can’t get out. She says yes. My dad says he will get some more drinks while she does that. He asks what we are doing; my brother tells him we are playing a game. My mum ties the rope around my hands; she puts it around them many times. I try to get my hands out. I pull very hard, but they are stuck. My brother laughs about it, and then my dad shouts him from the kitchen.
My mum laughs because I can’t get my hands out. Then she gets my pants and she pulls them down with my underpants too. I hear my dad’s friends laugh about it. I try to get them back up so they stop it, but I can’t and that makes them laugh more. I wish she didn’t do it. I try to say bad words to her. I try to tell her to stop it, but she just laughs some more at me.
I can’t get my pants back up and I can’t see them. It makes me fall over when I try because my pants have fallen to my ankles. My mum pulls them off instead of helping me. I get scared inside because maybe something bad is going to happen. I don’t want her to take them off. My dad comes back. He makes me kneel; he is behind me. I don’t want him to have sex with me when his friends are there. I don’t want them to see.
He whispers in my ear. He tells me I am good. He makes the sound I hate and it makes me fall back. He does the sucking sound with his mouth. I don’t like it. His belt opens, I hear it. It makes my tummy get cold inside. My dad kneels behind me too. He puts his arm around my chest, and then he puts his hand under my chin and holds it so my head goes back. “Open your mouth,” he whispers. I do and someone puts his thing in my mouth. I try to move my head away, but my dad holds my jaw and his fingers dig in. it is not my dad’s thing. Someone else grabs my head and I can’t move out of the way. My dad puts his other hand down on me so that he touches me too. He whispers that I am good. I can’t breathe. I try to, but I don’t move away. Someone has his thing in my mouth. My dad starts to have sex with me too. I can’t see any of them.
Fifty Four
My Nan has bought me a new book. She buys me lots of them. She buys the scary ones. But I like to read them. I read them at night when my mum and dad are downstairs. They don’t make me scared. This one is called IT. It’s about a clown.
My dad’s friend gets to the bad part. I hate it. I hate how it feels when it all goes in my mouth. I hate how it tastes. It makes me gag and I try not to be sick. I think about the clown. He lives in the drains. He comes up and steals the children. I don’t look at the gutters.
My dad puts his hand on my throat, he makes my head go back and he tells me to swallow. His hand is still on me too. He keeps it there until it feels funny inside and then I make all the noises. I try not to cry because they all got to see that I am bad too. I am dirty. I feel it all over. I try to think about my book again, but it keeps going away. My dad doesn’t stop with the sex until he gets to the end and makes all his noises too. Then he lets me go.
I can’t see because I still have the blindfold on, but I don’t want to look. I don’t want them to see me. I can’t move because my hands are still tied. I try to lie down instead, but it is hard. I get my head to the floor, but I am on my knees.
Someone unties my hands. I don’t move fast. My mum and dad and their friends all talk about things. I don’t know what they are talking about. I don’t hear their words. Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe I am not really here. Someone tells me to go to the bathroom, but I don’t know who said it. I just hear the words. I pull the blindfold off and I look at the floor. My head feels heavy inside; everything is heavy. I pick my pants up and go to the bathroom.
I feel very tired. Maybe I can go to bed and sleep until Monday, and then it is school. I have some homework to do. Maybe I can do that tomorrow. I did most of it already, but I didn’t finish it yet. My tummy turns over inside, then the sick wants to come out. I get it in the toilet and it doesn’t go on the floor. My hands shake badly when I try to wash my face in the sink. I don’t look in the mirror. I just leave the bathroom and go upstairs.
It is cold in my bedroom. I don’t put my pyjamas on. I don’t do anything, I just sit on the floor. I like to write stories. Sometimes I write them inside my head and then no one sees them. I like when I do that, then I can close my eyes. It is like watching television in my head and no one else sees it. I do it lots of times. When I have a favourite part, I make it play lots of times.
I try to remember them to write them down, but they go away. I sit on the floor for a long time. It gets dark and I don’t know about it. My mum shouts my name. It is very far away. Maybe she isn’t real too. I stare at the big box in my room. I don’t know what’s in it; I don’t remember. Maybe it was an old game. My mum shouts again. I hear her run up the stairs, but I can’t make myself move. She opens my door and says my name again. I say “What,” I say it slowly, but I am far away too.
“You need to go and get a shower,” she says to me. “I want a bath and you need to hurry up.” I tell her okay, but I don’t move. She shouts my name again. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks because I don’t say anything at all. I don’t move to talk. I think the words, but they don’t come out of my mouth. I don’t want to say anything. I don’t know why she can’t hear the words inside my head and then she knows. She shouts my name lots of times. “Shower now,” she says. She comes in and then she grabs my arm. Her nails dig in and she pulls me so I look at her, but it is all slow. Maybe my eyes want to daydream.
I don’t look at my dad when I walk past. I don’t look at anyone at all. I don’t know where my brother is. Maybe he went to bed already. I didn’t see him. I walk to the bathroom again. I don’t turn the light on, I don’t care. I take my clothes off and turn the shower on and get in it. It is cold, but I don’t do anything about it. I don’t care. I can’t make my arms move to change it. I stand under the water. I think about getting the shampoo down, but my arms don’t want to do that either. I don’t move for a long time. Not even when the water gets too hot, I don’t turn it off; I just stare at it as it goes down the drain.
I don’t even know that I stand under it for a long time. My mum knocks on the door. “You’ve used all the water up.” I didn’t even notice. The water has gone cold. I tell her I am sorry. “You never think of anyone else,” she says. “Now I have to wait for it to fill again to get my bath. Just self, self, self.”
I know I don’t. I know I am bad. I try not to, but it happens. I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t say anything to her. I just think the words in my head, but I don’t say them with my mouth. I turn the shower off, get out and put my pyjamas on. I forget to get dry, but it doesn’t matter. Maybe I can catch a chill and die.
My mum and dad say something to me when I walk past them to go to bed again. I don’t know what it is, though. I hear their voices, but I don’t hear the words. I walk to the stairs and to my bedroom. I don’t want to say anything to anyone. T
here is no point in saying words. I can’t be bothered to talk. I don’t even turn the light on in my room. I don’t care if the bad man comes. Maybe he can do all the scratching and biting so bad that I die. Everyone will be glad when he does that.
I get in my bed. I don’t care that it hurts my leg. My bed is old. It is the one my granddad died on. It is broken and the springs stick out of the fabric in the middle where my legs go. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning my leg is cut from it. I have a scar by my knee where it went all the way in one night, but I am not allowed a new bed. My dad says it is fine the one I have.
I feel the sharp springs dig into my leg. I slide my leg down so it hurts. I press my leg more and I do it again. I do it many times until my stupid face starts to cry. I should cry. I’m so stupid. Stupid little shit my dad says. He is right. I say it to myself when the spring is in my leg. It’s what I deserve for being so bad. The crying gets loud and the spring doesn’t hurt enough. I do it faster to make it hurt; I want to dig right in and make everything go away.
I can see the mirror at the other side of my room. I have it there so that the bad man can’t sneak in. It is dark, but I can see a little bit. I didn’t close my curtains yet. I stare at the stupid face crying. I hope he dies. I hope someone does something bad to him and makes him suffer. He deserves it. I wish his dad and his friends do lots of bad things to him for a long time. Maybe the bad man can come and keep him forever.
I stare at him a lot and then I cry again. I watch his stupid face cry. He cries very bad. I don’t want to make him stop. I don’t want to make it get better. I hate him. I want him to cry. I make the springs hurt until he cries too bad. I want to go to the mirror and break it and make him hurt. I hope he knows that I hate him. One day I will get him and make him sorry.
My mum and dad come up the stairs. I hear them. My mum opens my door. I turn my face to the pillow and then I don’t talk to her. I know I am bad. She doesn’t say anything to me, though. She comes in and closes my curtains and then she goes away. It is dark now. I can’t see the stupid boy in the mirror. He has gone away because it is dark. I hope he never comes back. I hear my mum and dad go to bed. I hear the springs make a noise. I hear them start to have sex. I stare at the dark.
Fifty Five
I like the new year at school. I got so excited when we were told that Mr. Royal was going to be our form tutor. He is my favourite teacher. Our form room is the chemistry room. I sit in the same seat at the front. He lets me sit in there when it is lunchtime. Sometimes he helps me with my other schoolwork. He is very clever. I have to get my best marks this year. Then I can choose all the subjects I want to, like Aadi did.
I get many merits. We get those when we have done very well in our work. We have to get A’s, but then it is a merit because it is better than an A. I get a lot of these too. We get stickers and they go on the front of our books. We have to get them from our form tutor when we get the merit sign from the teachers. I always take lots to Mr. Royal. My English and Maths books have so many at the front they are nearly covered. He says I do it on purpose because I am trying to steal all the merits he has. Sometimes when it is Friday, he asks me how many and then he has a silly smile on his face.
Lewis gets them too. He doesn’t have as many as me. But I started first. Now he tries to beat me. If he gets ones and I don’t, then he shows me and laughs about it. But I still beat him. We aren’t in the same form, though. He and Chris are in a different one. Peter is in mine, but I don’t talk to him anymore. He has lots of new friends.
After form, I meet Chris and Lewis before we go to the lessons. Chris doesn’t stay with us very much. He doesn’t like me, but I don’t like him too. I don’t care; he is an idiot. He thinks it is good to not do his work. He calls me names because I do a lot of it and get good marks. I don’t care. I want to go to medical school. I have to get all the right subjects. I have a list. I got it from my mum’s doctor. He helped me to choose them. He told me what I needed. My mum said he was being really nice.
“See, he likes me,” she said to me. “That’s why he wants to help you. So he can get me. All men want is sex.” Then, suddenly, she is in a bad mood.
I sit at my seat at the front. Mr. Royal comes in. He smiles at me. He always smiles at me anyway, but today it is a big smile. He reads the register out. Then he tells us all the things we have to know. He does that every morning. Then he says he has some big news. He comes over to me and gives me an envelope. I open it. It is an invite. There is a presentation night for some awards. I have one for maths.
“Ninety-nine percent,” he says to me. “That’s what you got in your maths exam this year.”
“Ninety-nine percent ? It is so big. I didn’t know I did everything right in the exam. It makes me feel very excited. I didn’t ever get nearly one hundred percent before.
“You have the highest mark in the whole year,” he says. I smile so big about it. I can’t help it. My dad helped me with my maths. He is good at the maths parts. He doesn’t get mad at me when I ask him for help. He likes to do it.
My dad lets me sit in his room when I have maths homework. Then he helps me with it. He writes more sums and things. He is nice to me when we do maths. Maybe because my brother is thick. My dad tells him that all the time. “He’s lucky if he can add two and two together,” he says. I laugh about it. But it makes my brother sad. He goes away and cries. But he is spoilt. I don’t know why he cries. I wish I was him sometimes. He gets all the nice things and my mum and dad love him very much. Not me. I am bad. They hate me very much.
The invite says that the presentation is in the evening. It will be at school. My mum and dad can come too. But I won’t ask them about it. I know they say no. They don’t ever come to things. My dad says that I don’t deserve the things. I only get good things because I have sex with everyone and that’s how I get these special things. I don’t, but my dad doesn’t believe me. He says I couldn’t possibly get high marks and awards any other way. He says I have sex with everyone.
My mum asked me a few weeks ago if I have sex with my dad. I don’t know why she asks me that. She asks me lots of times. Maybe she forgets. “Is your dad doing anything he shouldn’t to you?” she asked me when I was in the kitchen. I looked at my dad, but he didn’t say anything. I said no to her. But I don’t know why she asks about it. She is there sometimes when he does it. I tell her no and then I go away.
Mr. Royal thinks my mum and dad will be happy about my maths. I nod, but I don’t tell him they won’t. I don’t tell him about what they say. They only want to know if I am bad. Then they can make me sit on the chair in the dining room. I don’t tell them I have good marks in anything.
I have to tell my mum I was invited to the evening. She has to sign the letter to say I can. It is at night. I don’t tell her she can come, though. Mr Royal says I have to wear something nice, but I don’t have anything. I only have school shirts and pants. I don’t have other things. He doesn’t say anything about it.
When it is the presentation evening, my dad says I can’t have a ride to the school. I have to walk. I walk to school anyway so it doesn’t matter. He would take my precious stupid brother, but he doesn’t take me. Like always. I have to walk all the time, even when it rains and snows or is very windy. But not my brother. He can’t walk anywhere. I hate him.
The presentation finishes at 10pm. I have to walk home. It will be dark but I am not scared of it. I walk in the dark lots of times.
I finish school and run home very fast. I have a paper round now. I have to do it before I can go out back to school for the presentation. I get my bike and then I rush to the newspaper shop to get my papers and go to all the houses. If I do them fast, I can go home and get some dinner too and then I can go to school. But I don’t go to school on my bike. I asked my mum, but she says no. She says it will get stolen or I will lose it because I don’t look after things.
When I finish my paper round, my mum is in the kitchen cooking dinner. I am too late. It m
akes me sigh, but I don’t let her hear it. No, I am too late and I can’t cook. Maybe I can make dinner when she has finished. Sometimes she lets me. If she is in a good mood and I don’t make a mess.
My mum finishes dinner and then my dad serves it up. I have to set the table for them. I don’t eat any. My brother already had his special dinner so he doesn’t have any too. He gets special dinners because he is their special super boy. Maybe he can choke on it. He gets his dinner served on a tray with pudding and a drink and then he watches the television with it.
I stand in the kitchen and look in the cupboard. I don’t know what I want to make for my dinner. My mum and dad are in the dining room. “Do you think you should be looking in there?” my dad says to me. “You’re fat enough aren’t you?”
He says I am fat all the time. He shows his friends too. He shows them how fat I am. I am not fat. He says my brother is fat. But he is too. He doesn’t show my brother to his friends. Sometimes my mum lifts my top up and pulls my pants all the way down and then shows them how fat I am. My mum pinches my skin on my stomach. She pulls it hard and laughs about it because I am so fat. I close the cupboard. I don’t want anything to eat. It doesn’t matter. I am not hungry anymore.
I walk in the dining room. “What happened to making dinner?” my mum says to me. I tell her I changed my mind. I don’t feel hungry anymore. “What have you eaten today?” she asks me. I tell her I had a sandwich and some crisps at lunch time. I didn’t. But I don’t tell her. I used my money to buy cigarettes and then I sell them to get more money for more cigarettes. I have lots of money from it. I didn’t get breakfast either. I don’t ever get it because I don’t like to go in the kitchen when everyone is asleep. Maybe the bad man will come. No one can hear me in the kitchen. Then he will be there. I see his face sometimes. I see his stupid bad smile at the corner of my eyes. But when I look, he isn’t there. I am just seeing things. Or maybe he is very fast. It feels like he is there.