Shattered Soul

by Jennifer Snyder

  Thirty minutes or so passed before Mom returned from her liquor store run. She walked through the door with a large brown paper bag in one hand and an already opened bottle of rum in the other. Apparently, she couldn’t wait until she was inside the house to take a swig. Hell, I’d bet she probably took her first swig once she got to the car before even cranking it up.

  Jade walked in behind her.

  “Found your trailer trash girlfriend walking on the side of the road. Figured we were going to the same place, so I might as well give her a ride,” Mom muttered on her way towards the kitchen.

  I stopped cleaning, my eyes shifted to Jade. She stood at the door, her arms folded across her chest, looking so fragile and sad I felt bad for her.

  “She’s not trailer trash, Mom,” I said, without realizing I’d spoken out loud until it was too late.

  My mom walked out of the kitchen to smirk at me as though she didn’t agree. “Well, whatever you want to call her, here she is,” she said, lighting a cigarette.

  “Jade, her name is Jade. That’s what I call her.” Why was I still speaking? Why couldn’t I have just let it go?

  I noticed Calvin begin bouncing his leg from the corner of my eye. I didn’t have to shift my gaze to know he was growing more pissed at me by the second. My eyes flickered to Jade; she was still standing at the door, only now she didn’t look so sad and frail, she was staring at me and smiling. I smiled back, slightly, and resumed my cleaning, avoiding all eye contact, with Calvin especially.

  Mom chuckled and started down the hall. “I’m going to take a hot bath. No one bother me,” she grumbled.

  I shrugged off my thoughts and went to the kitchen to raid the cleaning cabinet for anything we had left. Calvin followed, making every muscle in my body grow tense.

  “What was up with that?” he demanded.

  I turned to face him, standing up straight, feeling extremely bold as adrenaline pumped through my veins.

  “With what?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what he was questioning.

  “With stickin’ up for my girl,” he uttered, stepping forward the remaining inches between us and puffing his chest out. The tip of my head came below his chin, even with me standing as tall as I could manage.

  I didn’t say a word, mainly because I wasn’t sure why I’d done it.

  Calvin pushed me and I stumbled slightly. His chin dropped to his chest and his eyes grew fiery. “I said, why are you sticking up for my girl like that? You got the hots for her or something?”

  I could see where this was going and fast. No matter what, I was screwed. There was no right answer to his question and no right reason to give for why I’d said what I’d said.

  “Do you?” he asked again, his eyeballs blazing.

  “No. Just figured someone should stick up for her, since you obviously weren’t going to,” I said loud and clear.

  I held my breath, not believing those words had come from my mouth. I’d been thinking them, but I had absolutely no intention of saying them out loud. Before I could think on the subject any further, Calvin’s lips twisted into a wicked smile and his fist smashed into my jaw.

  My head flung back from the power of his blow. Shock sizzled through me, followed closely by massive amounts of adrenaline. I straightened up in time to catch his next blow just under my left eye. Calvin didn’t give me any time to recover before he pounded me with another one connecting with my jaw again.

  The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I put my hands up to block my face from the blows which were sure to come next. Calvin chuckled, and then I felt his knee strike me in the gut. All the breath inside of my lungs came rushing out as I buckled over in pain and fell to the floor.

  “Calvin, no!” Jade shouted as she ran into the kitchen.

  Oblivious to her cries, Calvin kicked me in the stomach, starving my lungs for air even further. Blood exploded from my mouth and sprayed across the linoleum as I coughed and choked.

  “Stop it!” Jade shouted at him again.

  Calvin didn’t stop. I took two more kicks to the stomach and thought I heard something pop; it wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten a rib broken by Calvin, and then he was on top of me, pounding again at the side of my face. My arms were doing me no good in defense and I knew better than to swing back, he’d kill me for sure.

  “Calvin, stop!” Jade screamed. “Stop!”

  “All right, break it up!” Brent yelled and I felt my brother’s weight being lifted off me.

  I opened my good eye to see Brent plucking Calvin off me in one He-man motion.

  “Get off me! I’m done, I’m cool,” Calvin shouted, straightening his t-shirt. “Let’s go.” He walked out of the kitchen without looking at me again.

  I curled up into a ball and closed my eyes, listening to two sets of footsteps walk away, thankful my beating was over. A cool hand touched my forehead. Jade.

  “I’m so sorry, Seth. He’s been on edge lately. Let me get a wet rag,” she insisted.

  “No,” I choked out, wincing at the pain from my busted lip. “Just go,” I insisted in more of a pleading tone then I’d intended.

  I hated to seem rude, but if he saw her helping to clean me up it would only make things worse, for myself and for her. I’d never actually saw Calvin hit a woman before, but with as easy as he found it to hit me, I wouldn’t put it past him and I didn’t want to risk it.

  “Go!” I repeated a little louder this time. I closed my eyes.

  “Okay,” she whispered, draping the wet rag across my hand.

  I listened to the sound of her sandals click as she walked away and finally relaxed once the front door slammed shut behind her. I remained laying on the cool linoleum floor curled into a ball, spitting the blood pooling in my mouth out on the floor. Pain pulsated in my face. I should have kicked Calvin’s ass. I should have at least attempted to get one good hit in, but I didn’t.

  I had wussed out, again.

  The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing stirred me. My heart jolted, I didn’t want to hear my mother bitch at me once she saw I was laying on the floor with my own blood splattered around.

  That was a lie.

  The truth was, I was scared she wouldn’t care at all, or that she’d have some smartass thing to say about how I had deserved it. The best thing to do was clean it up and move on as if it never happened.

  I winced as I forced myself to sit up and the kitchen swirled around me a few times from lightheadedness. I grabbed the rag beside me and began mopping up my bloody mess before getting a clean one for my face.

  Mom walked into the kitchen as I was carefully wiping the crusted blood off my chin. She didn’t look at me, she didn’t even ask what had happened, even though I knew she had to have heard it. She sat her half empty bottle down and began digging in her purse on the counter. I continued cleaning my face over the sink as I watched her from the corner of my eye. Mom pulled out a pack of cigarettes and held one out to me.

  “Want one?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said and took it from her shaking fingers.

  Mom took one out for herself and stumbled her way out of the kitchen and into the living room without another word. My heart sunk.

  I tucked the cigarette behind my ear and started towards my room to change my clothes. No way I was staying another second in this house if I didn’t have to.

  I slid my shirt off gingerly and cringed at the pain the motion unleashed in my rib. I glanced at myself in the mirror above my dresser, assessing how bad I looked.

  There was a good sized red mark where Calvin’s knee had met my stomach, which would probably be gone later, leaving behind a light bruise in its place. But, it was the reddish-blue swollen mark across the left side of my lower rib cage that I knew was going to cause me the worst pain of all.

  I lightly pressed my fingers against it and a sharp pain shot through me, making me clench my teeth. Because nothing was poking out, I wondered if I’d fractured it or maybe bruised it
to the bone. My face looked like hell. My left eye had almost swollen shut already and my top lip was so puffed up it was impossible for me to close my mouth all the way.

  I hated Calvin, but I knew I’d hate him even more tomorrow when this looked and felt even worse.

  I continued to change and grabbed an extra pair of clothes. I rolled them up and tucked them underneath my arm before grabbing the cigarette off my dresser and walking out of my room.

  Mom sat on the couch, watching a movie when I came into the living room. I didn’t say a word to her, I continued towards the front door as if she wasn’t there. I stepped outside and closed the door behind me, pausing for a split second as a depressing thought flooded my mind. Would anyone care if I chose to never come back?

  I pushed the thought from my mind, afraid of the answer swimming to the surface and cocked my head to the side to light my cigarette. I adjusted the clothes under my arm and began walking in the direction of Trip’s house.

  Chapter Seven

  The walk to Trip’s was a long one, it was nearly eight by the time I walked up the front path. His mom’s black Lexus sat out front, but his dad’s Beamer was gone. It was Saturday night, his parents were probably at some fancy cocktail party somewhere getting hammered.

  I walked to the front door and knocked, just in case his mom might still be home. Trip answered.

  “What the hell, man?” he freaked, rushing me inside. “What if my mom had answered the door? She’d freak if she saw you this way!” He tossed his hands up and waved them around in an exaggerated motion as he spoke.

  I walked past him and towards the spic-and-span, cut straight from the pages of a magazine, kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Trip continued to rant and rave behind me as he followed. I took a swig and turned to face him.

  “Holy shit, your lip is massive!”

  “Feels like it,” I said, pressing the cold water bottle against it, not caring enough to wipe away the dribbles of water sliding down my chin first.

  He grimaced. “What happened?”

  “Do you really need to ask?” I countered.

  “Calvin.”

  I nodded.

  “What for this time?”

  I shifted on my feet. “Sticking up for Jade against my mom.” I kept my one good eye down so he wouldn’t notice my dilated pupil. He’d have a panic attack if he realized I was tweakin’.

  Trip liked to smoke weed and drink, and occasionally he’d pop a pill or two, but it was all in moderation, and all in the hopes of gaining some attention from his parents, even if it was negative. Trip’s parents were too busy being socialites climbing their way up the social ladder to actually be parents.

  For Trip, to be caught smoking a joint in the pool house of the country club was one thing, snorting a line or getting caught with something hard was quite another. If he got caught with something like that, he’d be shipped away to the nearest rehab and afterward be sent off to a boarding school of his parents’ choice. Which meant, I needed to play it cool until my high wore off.

  “Maybe you should put some ice on that,” he suggested, pulling a clean rag from a drawer. I took another swig of water as he fixed up an ice pack. “There’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom. I’ll get it.” he said, handing me the ice pack.

  I pressed it gently to my left eye. Trip came back a few minutes later holding a clear case.

  “Damn, man, hurts me just to look at you!” he said setting the case on the counter beside me.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Trip meant well, but I didn’t see what good a first-aid kit would do for me. I was bruised up and swollen. Not exactly something that could be covered up or fixed with a band-aid. I opened it up anyways and sifted through its contents for his sake. I grabbed out some Neosporin and dabbed some just under my eye where the skin had broken and across my busted lip.

  “I think my dad might have a few pain pills from last winter when he sprained his ankle skiing,” Trip said, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he wondered.

  “Nothing, it’s just those wouldn’t have lasted a day at my house, and here it is the end of April and they’re still sitting on a shelf untouched. Sometimes I forget how straight-laced you really are.” I smiled, as much as I could without stretching my lip too far.

  He huffed a little, obviously my statement had aggravated him some.

  “If I’d taken any of them he’d have known it was me; that’s why I haven’t touched them, not because I didn’t want them.”

  “Chill, it’s cool. I get it.”

  “Want one or not?” he demanded.

  I did, but I didn’t. I knew better than to mix too much shit in my system at once.

  “Nah, man. I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble,” I said sincerely, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

  I took the ice pack off my eye and touched it to my throbbing rib cage, hoping again it wasn’t broken. I’d know for sure in the morning if I woke up unable to breathe.

  “So, your parents out for the night or just a few hours?” I asked, shifting on my feet again, still zooted but trying my best to hide it.

  “Most of the night. We’ll probably hear them stumble in around two or three like usual,” he muttered.

  “Okay…and why are you home? I’m glad you were and all, but it’s Saturday night and you’re parents couldn’t really care less where you were.”

  He smirked. “Because, I thought my wing-man had gotten hooked up with someone and tossed me to the side for the weekend.”

  I grinned, and it hurt so freaking bad. “Nah, not me.”

  “So…what did happen with Ali last night? If I didn’t know your brother so well, my next guess would have been Ali’s po-po daddy got a hold of you.” He grinned wildly and I laughed.

  “Ah, don’t make me laugh!” I shouted. “You knew about that, huh? How come I didn’t?”

  He threw his hands up. “Who knows? It was floating around school, maybe you just chose not to hear it.”

  “Must have.” I ducked my head, trying hard not to kill myself with another grin. “Not a whole lot happened. We went to the bridge and chilled for a while,” I replied, gazing at the marble tiled floor.

  “Right,” Trip said in a drawn out sigh.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I suggested.

  “Where to?”

  “Any parties going on tonight?” I asked.

  He scratched his head. “Miranda Cooper’s having one. Her mom’s out of town for the weekend.”

  “I repeat…and you’re sitting here because?” I questioned, knowing how much he liked Miranda.

  He shrugged. "Like I said, my wing-man tossed me to the side."

  “Not tonight. Let’s go,” I insisted, setting the ice pack on the counter.

  Miranda Cooper’s house wasn’t but a fifteen minute drive from Trip’s. When we pulled up, cars were parked bumper to bumper in her driveway and lined alongside the road. Trip parked behind a beat-up white two-door car, leaving himself enough room to pull forward in case someone blocked him in from behind.

  I glanced at Trip as he cut the engine, he looked nervous as hell as he gripped the handle to step out. A prick of a smile touched my lips, but I forced it back.

  Laughter and the sound of Three Days Grace blaring from speakers somewhere inside filled my ears when I stepped out. We started towards the house, my mind buzzing with excitement. Trip whipped out his pack of Newports and handed me one as the tiny front porch came into view. I stopped to light it. A wide smile crept across my face, even though it hurt like hell, as the lyrics from the song playing seemed to stream from the speakers and flow over me.

  “Pain, without love. Pain, I can’t get enough. Pain, I like it rough ‘cuz I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all…”

  I chuckled. It was all too comical that this song of all songs would be playing the second we walked into this party, considering my busted up face and all.

  “Perfect entry son
g, huh?” Trip smirked beside me.

  I nodded. “Yeah.” We walked towards the crowded front porch.

  “Who’s that?” I heard someone whisper once we got closer.

  “Seth and Trip,” someone else answered.

  “Ouch, talk about pain! Damn, man, what happened to your face?” someone asked as I started up the steps.

  “You should see the other guy,” I replied. It was nobody’s business what happened to me or by the hands of whom. Only Trip knew the truth and that’s how I intended to keep it.

  “Geez, how can you even see?” A tall slender girl with long brown hair and curvy hips asked me. Sidney Owens, one of Miranda’s best friends.

  Sidney stood staring at me, holding an unlit joint in one hand and an almost empty plastic cup in the other.

  “It’s not that bad,” I answered, while watching her glossy lips pucker around the joint she was lighting.

  She handed it to me next. “Here, you look like you could use something,” she smiled as she exhaled.

  I plucked it from her fingers and suppressed a wince as I puckered to hit it. I passed it to Trip next and licked my bottom lip carefully. It tasted like her lip gloss, strawberries, now instead of blood.

  My eyes automatically shifted towards her as if pulled by a magnet. Sidney was still staring at me, her big brown eyes slowly grazing over me as she bit the rim of her plastic cup. I tried to look elsewhere, but the way she was looking at me made it impossible.

  Sidney was hot and she knew it. We’d dated a few weeks during our freshman year, but like all the others before me, she’d chewed me up and spat me out once she’d gotten what she wanted out of me; a little sex and a whole lot of weed. I didn’t care, I’d enjoyed her just as much as she’d enjoyed me and when it was done, it was done.

  “You look like you could use a drink,” she said, passing me the joint for the second time.

  “Nah, I’m cool.”

  Trip elbowed me and whispered. “Come on, man…sexual healin’, go get some!”

  I smirked and shook my head. Guilt pinched at my brain and Ali’s face entered my mind. I couldn’t get with Sidney. Not now.