by J. E. Taylor
That fear churned, morphing into the first hint of anger.
How dare they!
What gave them the right to treat me like that?
After all, they were the ones who started all this. They were the ones who yelled out the stinking window.
By the time I stepped from the shower, limped to my room and dressed, I had worked myself up to a fine fury. I crutched downstairs and found my mother sitting calmly at the dining room table.
“They want to know if we’d like to press charges.”
I stopped a half-crutch away from the table. “What?”
She looked up from her coffee cup, and with the tears long gone, I could see the anger and sorrow mixed in her chocolate eyes. What they had done to me pained her enough so it showed through the calm exterior and it burned in the pit of my stomach.
“The school wants us to press charges.”
I shook my head. That’s all I needed. They had a lust for targeting weaker kids—terrorizing both physically and verbally—and if we pressed charges, my life would be over.
Literally.
And I couldn’t think of anything more devastating.
Her lips twitched into a bitter smile. “I told them I didn’t think that was the right route to take. I’d like to talk with the girls.”
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse... bam.
“And I’d like you there with me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sometimes, my mom was so clueless. I bet she thought they’d show her some respect just because she was an adult. This gang intimidated both teachers and students alike. They were not some varsity cheerleaders.
Well, she wasn’t kidding. And apparently, after I had left, Donna gave the school the gory details, and only two of the three who had been in the hall were scheduled to speak to us. The leader hadn’t actually touched me. It didn’t matter that she sicced her attack dogs on me; she was free and clear.
I SAT IN THE MIDDLE of the large conference table, and the room closed in on me in stuffy, stifling waves. My mother sat at the farthest end from the door and we waited for the school security guard to bring the girls in. The first was Ellen and she kicked the chair from the table and sat in it with the force of a spoiled kid sent to a time out.
The glare she sent in my mother’s direction could incinerate the paint on the cinderblock walls and my mom shifted uncomfortably.
“Why did you attack my daughter?” Her voice was calm, reasonable, but I could tell she was anything but, underneath.
Nothing. No response, no change in demeanor, nothing, and my mother shifted again, changing her gaze from the girl to the security guard standing a few steps behind her. She got a shrug and raised eyebrows in response from the guard as if to say we warned you these weren’t your average teenagers.
My mother’s gaze traveled back to the openly hostile girl and then to me for a second. I caught the dawning horror in her eyes. She returned her stare to Ellen and tilted her head, studying her.
The glare continued, steady and cool, aimed at my mother.
Mom nodded to the security guard, signaling she was through with this one.
Ellen’s eyes passed over me and I had to clench my thighs against the sudden burning need to pee. Her glare promised misery.
The swap was made, and Linda sat down. Her open hostility was toned down in comparison to Ellen’s, but she was still just as disrespectful, and her glare traveled between my mother and me. When my mom asked the same question, she received a slight one shouldered shrug. Her eyes sailed to mine and in them, I saw assurances of pain.
I gripped the chair, unwilling to let this bitch see an ounce of fear.
I glanced back at my mother and the tight set of her jaw expressed more to me about her frame of mind than words would, and she gave a nod to the guard.
When Linda was hauled out of the room, the principal entered and took a seat. He waited until the door to the conference room closed and then focused on my mother.
“I think it would be best if someone drove your daughter to and from school.”
My mother’s eyebrows arched. “Why?”
“Because we cannot guarantee her safety off school grounds.”
The reality of the situation hit her, and the color bled from her cheeks. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice rising in that tone that meant her wrath was close behind.
“These girls are tough, Mrs. Wilson. If you had pressed charges, we could have expelled them, but since you decided against it, the best we can do is suspend them for three days,” he said and then he looked at me. “My advice to you, young lady, is to ignore them, and if they attack you again, come see me right away.”
That was so not what I wanted to hear.
Silence Chapter 3
I hobbled into the school four days later, unsure of what to expect from Heather’s clan now that they were all back in school. People gave me a wide berth, but no one had uttered a word about the incident, and I was thankful.
It had been a mortifying experience, but I lived, and now all I wanted was to put it behind me. I stepped out into the courtyard to my small group of friends, and lit a cigarette. It took a moment to realize the catcalls from the other side of the courtyard were aimed at me.
Derogatory slams like “Slut” and “Faker” and “Bitch” filled the air.
I glared at them, and they laughed at their perceived wit. I could only stomach half of my cigarette and flicked it away, turning into the school and shunning the mortification that crept over me.
“You should tell the principal,” Donna said, as we walked to class.
I let out a laugh, and sent a glare in her direction. “If you had kept your mouth shut, this wouldn’t be happening.”
Donna’s mouth dropped open and she slowed, letting me crutch ahead of her. I stopped after a few paces and turned.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I knew it wasn’t her fault. She was just trying to protect me, and I don’t think she knew what the ramifications of ratting those girls out would be. If she had, she would have kept silent.
Despite the verbal attacks between periods, they kept their distance.
I THOUGHT THE NOVELTY of constant verbal beat downs would wear off within a week, or two at the most, and I ignored every slur shot in my direction. Unfortunately, my lack of response to their taunts only escalated their efforts, and they got more creative with their insults. I was stubborn and there was no way in hell I was going to give those girls the satisfaction of altering my schedule.
When they added “nark” to their repertoire I traded glances with Donna. The bitches thought I snitched on them. I wasn’t about to correct their perception, even though the stress of the bullying put a profound wedge between Donna and me. By the end of November, I had found a new group to hang with, one that liked to party as much as they liked to skate.
EVERY DAY.
Bitch. Whore. Nark. Slut. Skank. Asshole. Fucker.
Every day for months on end.
By Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d go insane, but I’d be damned if I caved and hid under a rock in order to avoid the bitch squad. I had done a pretty good job ignoring their constant slander, but on this particular Friday, I was having a day from hell. I hadn’t studied for a test and had failed it, and I had just cut loose my latest boyfriend because he was all hands and starting to get stalker creepy.
Heather’s clan swarmed like a pack of wild dogs that had gotten wind of wounded game.
As soon as the bell rang, I found a remote bank of lockers, and the flurry inside me almost over took my voice. I wanted to scream, and destroy, and maim, and kill. Hatred rode my bloodstream like a shot of speed and I turned, throwing a right hook as hard as I could.
My fist connected with the center of the metal locker. Pain radiated up my arm, shocking me back into silence. It felt... good.
I threw another punch and the scrape of metal across my knuckles stung, overriding the emotions and filling the space with the physical sensations
instead. I must have hit that locker a dozen times before I slid down, holding my hand against my chest. I closed my eyes, panting with exertion, but I no longer had the urge to scream and launch myself at Heather with the purpose of tearing her into little fucking pieces.
The throb in my hand calmed me, and I concentrated on breathing until I wasn’t huffing as if I’d run a marathon. Opening my eyes, I studied my swollen hand, flexing it and squeezing it tight. Nothing felt broken, and for that, I was grateful.
I sighed and looked at the ceiling, asking the gods above to give me the strength to carry on. Silence was slowly killing me, poisoning my outlook in a way I detested. The building hate was eating me from the inside out. In the beginning, I was worried about getting beaten up, or disfigured, or killed. But now... now I was terrified of what I would do if this wall broke open.
My gaze turned toward the window overlooking the courtyard and I sighed.
I guess it could have been worse.
They could have surrounded me, instead of yelling from afar. Hell, they could have cornered me in the halls and dumped milk on me again, or beaten the crap out of me, but it was only words hurled like stink bombs.
The school security guards were always within earshot, with their attention focused on Heather and her gang of delinquents. Being under such close observations, the bitches didn’t chance a physical confrontation, not with expulsion as the next option.
Words were their weapons. Words which created such a toxic reaction in me that I had to shut off my emotions or go completely insane. I never understood the power of words or the irreparable damage they could inflict. I also never understood what kind of force it took to stay silent in the face of a storm.
I SAT ON THE CONCRETE with my face tilted toward the sun. The warm spring day felt fresh and I took a drag of my cigarette, glancing at the pair of crutches leaning next to me. It was the second time that year I was hobbling around through the school halls. This time it was due to my stubbornness at the roller-skating rink. The continuous jump, fall, get up, and retry took its toll and I ended up with another hairline fracture.
The bell rang and my few minutes of bliss soured when they entered the courtyard. They added Faker to the list again, and I sighed, taking another drag of my cigarette and focusing on my friends who stepped out to join me.
I plastered the good-natured smile on my face and gave Mia and Tina a nod when they crossed the courtyard. Tina towered over Mia as they stopped in front of where I sat. I tried never to stand directly next to Tina, because I was much shorter than Mia, and whenever I did, I felt like a munchkin next to Tina’s tall slender frame. Mia wasn’t as tall and her brown hair was more the color of mine than Tina’s flaming red hair. The three of us had gelled, becoming best friends in a short span of time. Tina’s boyfriend, Pete stepped to my side and took a seat on the bench, buffering me from the verbal spam.
“I don’t know how you can deal with that shit,” Pete said and I offered a one shouldered shrug.
“They aren’t worth a reaction.” It was my standard line whenever anyone asked. “Besides, getting high makes it kind of funny.” I grinned and bumped shoulders. Laughing even with my blood boiling had became an art form I had long since mastered. Of course, being high helped to drop me into the land of chuckles more easily than when I wasn’t.
They all gave me a look like I’d grown another head.
“Seriously, have you heard their go-to list? Slut seems to be their favorite, and I for one find that hilarious,” I said really softly. I traded gazes with the three of them and smirked. “Especially since I’m as pure as the driven snow.” I delivered the line with a low chuckle and a mock southern accent. They pressed their lips together, trying not to laugh, but it escaped anyway. Both Mia and Tina knew I hadn’t sampled what my boyfriends had to offer, despite their valiant attempts, my legs remained closed for business.
“You got high without us?” Mia asked after processing the information. She propped her hands on her hips and I gave another shrug.
Navigating the football field and the hill beyond on crutches had been daunting, but I needed a break from reality and the added bonus of being able to laugh it all off. I also only had one joint left and honestly, I wasn’t in a sharing mood.
“Sorry,” I mumbled and took a drag of my cigarette.
“They really are assholes,” Pete mumbled and slung a glare in their direction.
“Yeah, well, no one is willing to take them on.”
He turned his gaze to mine and challenged me with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean? Girl, your ability to ignore them on a daily basis is legend in the school.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I laughed loud enough to stun the crowd, before conversation picked up again. “You are so exaggerating,” I said when I got hold of my senses.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, more and more people are moving towards this side of the courtyard.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you say so.”
“For years, everyone has been scared shitless of them. Not just other kids, teachers, too.”
I shrugged, remembering the hesitation of the principal in the beginning of the year. “I heard they pushed a kid through a plate glass window just for giggles.” It was the first time I’d actually voiced some of the rumors I’d heard, and he nodded, confirming it. “Then why are they still in school?”
He met my gaze. “That wasn’t on school grounds.”
Ah. That’s why the school warned my mother.
“But seriously, I’ve never seen them so shut down,” Pete continued. “It’s like you’re taking away their power to instill fear.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been in school with them a lot longer than you, and this is the first time I’ve sensed... desperation.”
I chuckled. Me? Neutralizing their power? That was a laugh. If anything, they seemed more hell bent on making me crack, like their very existence depended on it. I didn’t believe that anymore than I believed I could fly.
“It’s like you’re not afraid of them.”
“I’m not.” I met his gaze and looked up at my friends. I wasn’t afraid of them, in fact, I wanted to drop the queen bitch so she never got up again. My dreams were filled with the brutality I wanted to visit on the hellacious thugs. The satisfaction of drawing blood and even seeing body bags carried away left me on edge. I was never a violent person, but if I could figure out a way to kill these bitches and get away with it, you can bet your ass, they’d be six feet under by now. I studied Pete for a moment. “Are you afraid of them?”
Pete, Mia, and Tina all dropped their gazes like the admission of fearing the bullies would make me think less of them. I found it more than amusing that I was the smallest, slightest of the bunch and I didn’t have an ounce of fear where the bitch squad was concerned, and I started laughing again.
My fear no longer lay in what they could do to me. No, my fear revolved around what damages I would cause if I ever lost control of the raging beast inside me.
WHEN I SLID INTO THE passenger seat on the last day of my freshman year, I exhaled like I had been holding my breath since September. The relief melted into my taut muscles and I realized just how tight I had been wound.
I traded a tired smile with my mother and she squeezed my hand. We had made it through the most hellish year of my life, and summer couldn’t have come at a better time. I looked forward to the town fireworks, my birthday, and our usual vacation on the lake in New Hampshire.
The short drive home seemed to rejuvenate me and I actually felt giddy with the freedom from oppression. My summer reprieve halted at the local Fourth of July celebration.
Mia, Tina, and I walked from the blanket where my family sat, towards the concession stand. As we stood in line, waiting our turn, voices infringed on our conversation. I traded a glance with my friends when the vile vocabulary I was used to, registered clearly. I didn’t turn, but everything inside me gelled to a fine fury.
I played my silence game, ordering my
food and trudging back to our seat without any sort of physical confrontation. They remained around the concession area, and the distance buffered the assault.
Thankfully, I was with a group.
Unfortunately, Donna wasn’t so lucky. They found her alone and took a few shots, leaving her skin bruised, along with an unhealthy dose of fear.
She never spoke to me again after that summer, either.
Silence Chapter 4
The rest of the summer went by without another confrontation. The bitch squad weren’t members of the private swim club we belonged to, so by the time I stepped into high school again, I was relaxed and thinking the majority of the summer just might have distanced them far enough to forget about me.
That thought died the moment I stepped into the quad for a smoke.
Same remarks, different school year, and I put on my game face. My friends were at the opposite end, and I headed straight for them, putting on a genuine smile. A few of them I hadn’t seen since the year ended, and I got a warm hug from Pete before I glanced at our usual spot, raising an eyebrow at the group that squatted on our territory.
I hooked my thumb in that direction and got a chuckle from everyone.
“Freshman,” the group said in unison.
“Ah.” I turned and sauntered over looking at the two girls sitting next to a guy with a pair of the most intriguing eyes I had seen since I met Tony Diangelo, the summer before high school. Blue as the summer sky and the thickest black lashes I had ever seen on a boy. Mr. Bedroom eyes gave me the once over and I sent him a hint of a smile before I turned my full attention on the girls.
I really wanted to tell them they were in our spot, but I knew how rude that was. Instead, I extended my hand, ignoring the catcalls coming from the opposite side of the arena.
