by Sara Hess
Frowning, I looked around the room again trying to remember why I was here. Then it hit me. Some guys had cornered me and said some very nasty things, but then Nic had arrived and hit one of them. I groaned inwardly thinking about how I’d reacted. Of course stupid, crazy me had totally overreacted and freaked out. To top it off I’d cried and then passed out.
I was a catch and a half; who wouldn’t want to hang out with me I thought contemptuously.
Depression weighed down on me. Was my past going to always interfere in my life? I focused again on Nic lying next to me. His blonde hair was tussled and his handsome features had a softer cast to them in his reposed state. Being around him had made me feel like a new person, a different person. The past seemed to have less of a hold over me.
But it was always there in the periphery just waiting to rear its vicious head, leaving me comatose after it wreaked its havoc.
Nic didn’t deserve to have his life upended by my problems. He didn’t know what they were, and I didn’t want him to find out. They were dark and ugly, and if he found out it would change how he looked at me. I’d already had two episodes in front of him, and he’d treated me so tenderly during and after them. A tenderness that something deep inside of me craved.
However, that tenderness would turn to horror and disgust if he knew the truth. He’d let me get away with not explaining my episodes so far, but he would keep asking; especially if I kept having them in front of him. The severity of the one I’d had last night was less common, but even my small one’s didn’t go unnoticed.
There was also the chance that he could find out what happened. The story was four years old but some people still remembered it. The restaurant incident proved that. Finding information on the internet required only a few strokes of the keyboard. There was really no way he wouldn’t find out…eventually. There were also a few people on campus that I’d gone to high school with…and avoided…who most likely knew the story surrounding me, or at least, what the papers had written. Not too many people knew the real story; only law enforcement, legal counsel, and therapists.
An ache formed in my chest as my gaze traveled over Nic’s features. He was well-known and in the public eye, and my past would only bring him attention he didn’t need. I had really been fooling myself thinking we could be anything to each other, friends or otherwise.
I felt like I was going to cry again, only harder than last night. In the last four years Nic had been my only bright spot, besides Carl, and now I had to let him go. Looking down I saw that Nic’s hand was partially covering mine and remembered that he’d been playing with my fingers right before I’d fallen asleep. I’d moved in my sleep but our hands had remained touching.
Swallowing painfully I separated us carefully so as not to wake him and scooted off the bed slowly. Nic’s face twitched but he didn’t wake. The clock on the bed side table displayed 4:37 a.m. I can’t believe I’d stayed here almost all night.
The house was quiet so the party was probably over. Grabbing my pack, jacket, and shoes…Nic must have removed them…off the floor I tiptoed my way toward the bedroom door and opened it cautiously. Thankfully, this door was well oiled and didn’t creak. Slipping out I closed it softly behind me and then listened with my ear to the door to make sure no noises came from the other side. Nothing. My breath whooshed out in relief.
Snoring came from one of the other bedrooms as I made my way down the hallway which probably would have made me laugh if I was in a better mood. Creeping down the stairs I hugged the wall to avoid any squeaky steps. Reaching the bottom I listened and did a swift survey of the ground floor. The house was a mess, littered with debris left over from the party, but the only sounds I could hear was heavy breathing from the living room.
Avoiding crinkly papers and cups I made my way to the front door. It was locked with a dead bolt. I hated leaving and not being able to lock the door behind me, but it was almost dawn and most home invaders were probably done for the night. Disengaging the bolt I cracked the door and squeezed out, closing it softly behind me.
Once outside I breathed a little easier. I pulled on my boots and reaching into my bag I pulled out my beanie and stuffed my loose hair up in it. Slipping on my jacket I started walking toward the closest bus stop.
An hour and fifteen minutes later I was creeping through my own door. I’d never stay out this late before, but when I was getting home late from the restaurant mom normally didn’t wake up when I returned home. Silently I made my way down the hall toward my bedroom. I’d almost fallen back asleep on the bus, and now I just wanted lay in my bed and hopefully fall into a deep dreamless sleep.
“Why are you getting in so late?”
I spun around with a start at the hard voice speaking from behind me. My mom stood there in her old terry cloth robe, sagging socks, dark sleep-tangled hair, wearing a derisive expression in her face. Mother hardly ever acknowledged me so hearing a voice had been a bit of a fright. A vague memory of her in a more stylish robe with hair perfectly made-up floated through my mind and then faded away almost immediately.
My hand clenched the material of my coat over my rapidly beating heart. “You scared me; I thought you were asleep.”
She sneered. “Actually, I sleep less than you think. Why are you coming in so late?”
I frowned at her comment. Had she been awake some of the times I’d come home but only pretended to be asleep? It shouldn’t surprise me, the less she had to deal with me the happier she was.
“Well, where were you?” She repeated coldly.
I shifted uncomfortably. “A friend had a party. I was feeling tired so I stayed and slept in one of the bedrooms.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “You were at a party drinking and got drunk you mean.”
“No, I didn’t drink. I was just tired from working.” Guilt nudged at me, I don’t know why. I hadn’t been drinking. I did know I didn’t want her finding out where I’d spent the night though.
She moved closer and seemed to smell me for alcohol. Suddenly, she reached up and whipped off my cap causing my unconfined hair to spill down past my shoulders. A look of such malevolence crossed her face that I took a step back reflexively.
“You’re coming home from some boy’s house, aren’t you?”
My face flushed with guilt. “It was a party and I just fell asleep.” I stammered.
She took a step closer, the look in her eyes filled with hate. “I always knew you would revert to what you really are. For three years I’ve been waiting for you to slip up and show your true colors and now you finally have. Coming in from sleeping in who’s ever bed you crawled out of. All you are is a piece of tramp trash, and it’s hard to believe you come from my womb.”
My mother stalked me as she spit out each cutting and hurtful word, and I backed up trembling as the force of her hatred beat at me. I was stopped by my bedroom door as the last of her speech came to a halt, but she wasn’t done. Lifting her arm she slapped me across the face…hard. The force of it caused me to stumble to the side slamming the other side of my face into the doors frame. Tears welled and pain throbbed from each of my cheeks.
“I want you out of this house. I cannot stomach living with you any longer. You ruined my life. You killed my husband…your father. It was inconceivable to me that I had to spend some of his life insurance to pay for you to get treatment at that crazy house, and because of that I live in this rat trap. Everything is your fault.” She yelled her face filled with loathing. “You’re father’s parents don’t want anything to do with us because you killed their son, and my sister doesn’t want to be associated with the scandal of it. Where does that leave me; stuck with you.”
Hunching over I fumbled for the doorknob at my back as her malevolence spewed over me. Turning it I staggered in pushing it closed behind me. Twisting the lock I sank down to the floor holding my sides trying to control my sobs. From the other side my mother yelled one more time.
“I want you out of this house. Today.” There w
as a thump to the door then footsteps stomping away.
Pain and sobs shredded me as I curled into myself on the floor. My face was throbbing, but my heart was eviscerated; that my mother could hate me that much. I knew she’d blamed me for what happened, but the level of hatred she felt staggered me. For the last three years our living situation had been tense and uncomfortable. She’d been neither motherly nor pleasant, but I never thought she actually reviled me.
Feeling battered both physically and emotionally all I wanted to do was stay curled up on the floor and block out the world. However, my inner voice said, ‘get up; get up on your feet, one foot at a time, then the rest will follow’.
Hauling myself up from the floor I staggered over to my bed and wrapped myself up with a blanket. I was shivering uncontrollably. The chattering of my teeth was making both cheeks hurt. Lying down on my bed I tried to curl into myself as much as possible to get warm, but it wasn’t helping much.
My mother had just kicked me out. Where was I going to go? She said she wanted me out today. I didn’t know anyone well enough to ask if I could stay with them. Nic crossed my mind but I rejected that straight away. There was no way I’d bring my issues to his door. Earlier I’d just told myself to put space between us precisely because of my problems.
Clutching my head I took a shuddery breath and tried to organize my thoughts. Breathe, clench, breathe, unclench. I did this for a while until my sobs calmed enough to think. The tears still flowed but I could at least think.
My scholarship!
I could take advantage of the free housing it offered, but it would take a few days, and I’d have to wait until Monday to apply.
The ringing of the phone interrupted my thoughts. I stilled and listened. It had to be Nic; no one else would be calling at this time. He probably woke up and was worried that I’d just disappeared. After a couple rings I heard my mother answer.
“Hello.” Her voice sounded like a bark.
A second later. “She’s not available to speak at the moment.”
Three seconds later. “Yes, she’s home. She came crawling in just a little while ago, and as I stated she’s not available to talk. You’re going to have to wait to talk to the little tramp.”
I winced at her description of me, and that Nic had to hear it. The slamming of the phone was the next sound I heard. Having to push him away wouldn’t be a problem now, he’d run after hearing that. Additional pain ripped me up inside, and I started crying again. Sleep pulled at me and I tried to hold it back because I need to go, but sleep sounded so good. I felt like I could sleep forever; no decisions to make, nothing to worry about, and there was no one to miss me anyway.
Darkness and sweet oblivion pulled me under.
The next instant my eyes blinked open blearily and I frowned taking in my surroundings. My whole body felt beat down and my face really hurt. Why did my face hurt? I brought my hand up to my cheek. Ouch! Instantly, the morning incident with my mother slammed into me.
Uncurling myself from my cramped fetal position I looked at the time; 8:17 a.m. I had dozed off, but it hadn’t been for long. Pushing up from the bed I looked around groggily. There was a small mirror over my dresser I walked over to take a look at the damage. The cheek where my mother had slapped me was red and welted, and the other side of my face where I’d hit the door frame had a small cut with some blood, was swollen, and starting to bruise.
For some reason the sight didn’t faze me, it was my eyes that caught my attention. They looked kind of vacant. Like I’d cried out everything inside of me and woken up empty. I felt empty. It hurt on the outside, but my insides were deadened.
I could work with that. I needed to get some stuff done and feelings would just get in the way.
Walking over to my closet I reached up and grabbed my old suitcase out. I’d brought it to this house after I’d concluded my time at the clinic. Mona had obtained it for me to pack my stuff in since my mother hadn’t brought one when she didn’t come to get me. The thought of asking Mona if I could live with her for a while skipped through my mind, but she lived over in the next city and that would be too difficult to get to school and work regularly. No matter what I wasn’t going to miss out on school. School meant a chance for something new, a chance to get away.
I was able to pack all my clothes and some toiletry items in the suitcase, and also added a thin blanket to take with me. All my books and notepads for school barely fit in my backpack making it difficult to zip close. It would also make it heavy to carry. Taking out two books I laid them on the top of my cloths in the suitcase instead. The suitcase at least had wheels.
I had washed my face, carefully, and braided my hair to the side so it somewhat covered the cut and bruise on the right side of my face. I’d found my beanie cap on the floor in the hall when I’d snuck to the bathroom and I tugged that on over my head. It helped in keeping my hair over the cut. I couldn’t do anything about the red welt on the left side of my face, I had no make-up. Hopefully most people would scan it quickly and think the redness was from the weather.
Everything packed and ready I stepped up to my bedroom door and gripped the knob to step out…and froze. The numbness was beginning to pass. My stomach twisted in painful knots and I was scared; scared to leave this room and face my mom again, scared to be leaving this apartment for good, scared about where I was going to go. However, I couldn’t stand here for the rest of my life, even if hiding in this room indefinitely sounded exceedingly marvelous at the moment.
Twisting the knob I stepped out carrying my backpack and rolling my suitcase behind me. My mom stepped into the kitchen from the living room the same time I did. We just stared at each other for a minute. Her gray eyes narrowed when she observed my bruises, but there was no sign of sympathy or regret. My heart gave a small twinge, and then thankfully, the numbness that had engulfed me from before returned.
“I’ve done my duty by you, and now we’ve reached the end of our association.” Is that what she viewed our relationship as…an association? “You should have moved out when you started college. I don’t know why you didn’t?” My mother’s voice was unemotional as she addressed me.
“I thought you might need my help with bills and things around the house.” My voice was just as dead.
Her eyes flashed. “I did fine the year you were gone, and I’ll be fine again.”
The implication of her words weren’t difficult to decipher: she’d been glad that I wasn’t there for that year and she’d be glad when I left. And even though she didn’t seem to care about me, my feelings for her were still convoluted.
I swallowed. “You know you need to find a job. The insurance money won’t last forever.”
Her mouth thinned. “Like I said, out time together is over.” She turned and walked away.
Placing my key on the counter I walked out the front door and headed for the bus stop having no idea where I was going to stay for the next several days.
Chapter Sixteen
Nic
When I woke up at 6:24 a.m. in bed alone I may have freaked out a little. Shooting out of bed I rushed to the bathroom, but it was empty. A quick glance told me that her pack was gone from where it had been last night, and a survey of downstairs unearthed only a mess and five rookie l acrosse players who’d be cleaning up said mess.
I couldn’t believe she’d slipped out without me knowing, and not even told me.
I pounded back up the stairs not caring if I woke anyone up. Closing my door I picked up my phone. I was pissed…pissed that she’d walked out of the house, in the middle of the night most likely, and took the bus home. Pissed, and sick with worry. God, I really hope she’d just left and hadn’t been walking around in the middle of the night.
It was early to be calling her house but I couldn’t wait. If she wasn’t home I was heading out to track her bus and stake out her house. Punching in her home number I waited.
After three rings a voice barked, “Hello.”
“Can I s
peak with Carrie?”
“She’s not available to speak at the moment.” The voice said angrily.
I frowned. That didn’t tell me if she was home, and Carrie’s mom seemed inordinately angry. Had Carrie not made it home and her mom was just anxious?
“Is Carrie home?” I asked worriedly.
“Yes, she’s home. She came crawling in just a little while ago, and as I stated she’s not available to talk. You’re going to have to wait to talk to the little tramp.”
The phone went dead and I stared at it in shock.
Carrie’s mom had just called her daughter a tramp. Carrie’s words from last night rang through my head; ‘My mom hates me’. I’d thought maybe it was just insecurity talking, but her mother’s words revealed definite animosity. A call back would probably only aggravate her mother further so I refrained, even though it was going to test my last nerve to have to wait. The idea that Carrie had to deal with a mother like that was hard to stomach, but at least I knew she was home and safe. I would just wait till later this afternoon and try again.
I needed something to work off my frustration so I headed downstairs to have a little talk with Curt and his buddies. They were part of the freshman rookies who’d stayed the night to clean up after the party.
Five excruciating hours later I made another call.
“Hello,” the same voice barked again.”
“Is Carrie available to talk?”
There was a pause before her mother spoke. “Is this the same person who called earlier?”
“Yes.” I replied, barely holding in my frustration.
“Well, Carrie isn’t available to talk and I don’t want you calling here again.” I thought she was about to hang up on me again, but she spoke again. “And if by chance you know where she lives don’t come by either, she won’t be available for you here either.” She did hang up this time.
