Story of love, marraige, abuse and how I got through it. |
1. Fall, it’s my favorite time of year. I love the colors, the leaves, the cold. I liked nothing better than to put on a warm sweater, head outside and feel the cold wind against my skin. It was shaping up to be a nice day. It wasn’t to cold yet, since it was just the beginning of October. I watched from my second story window as the leaves lazily floated their way to the ground and rested on top of the manicured grass. Lucky, I thought. Even they get to rest. As I watched, I started reflecting on the past year. My Mother, Father and I had moved a few towns down the interstate to a new nicer house. I thought it was funny how instead of getting a smaller house as my two brothers and I were all about to be gone, they got a bigger one. It was a great house that would inevitably see a lot of family gatherings in the years ahead. My family had always been close and we seized any opportunity to get together. I knew the new pool couldn’t hurt the chances either. I drug myself into the bathroom and took a look in the mirror. “Eeww. Pretty.” I said sarcastically to myself. “Time to get out the spackle.” In my eyes I am relatively plain. I have long strawberry blonde hair that I never fix. It’s my opinion that the whole reason for long hair is so you can brush and go. My body seemed acceptable. I wasn’t super skinny but definitely not heavy. I was enjoying my teenage body as it was in fact the best it would probably be. My Dad had often teased me that I was so full of it my eyes were brown. Just like his. At least I didn’t inherit his bald spot. I had his nose too which I was glad of. It was appropriately sized and very round at the tip, quite cute if I do say so myself. This is where the similarities end. The rest of me was my Mom. She was short, five foot, which she had to stretch to reach. Although I was taller, it was only by three inches. My parents were one of those rare couples that have been married since they were seventeen. I always thought that was normal until I got a little older and realized that they were the exception to the rule. I attempted to cover the circles under my eyes, quite unsuccessfully. I spent a minute longer trying to look good, but then gave up. I’m sure I could have looked decent, pretty even, had I spent the time to do full make-up and hair. However, I usually went with the more natural, easier look. Mom and Dad were both the proud proprietors of a donut shop in my old home town of Springfield where I worked nights. Bakery would sound much more alluring but that would be stretching the truth. Its sole purpose was to the mass production of donuts for the working class of this small town. It had always seemed to be an anchor in the morning of many lives here. You were guaranteed to see the same faces almost every morning filling up an old coffee thermos and debating on that second apple fritter. As far as locations go, I suppose we had a prime spot. It was located in a tiny shopping center that was well past it’s hey day, right on the main drag of town. We shared the center with a copy shop, chinese restaurant, typewriter shop and salon. Mr. Lee, the owner of the chinese restaurant, was not only one of my favorite people, he also made the best egg rolls ever! When I’d walk over for some food I would always, without fail, be greeted with a “Hey! Donut Girl! How are you today?” This may have bothered some people, but I liked it. In such a small center it could be easy to make enemies, but my family and I had always really liked him. One person I did not take to was the owner of the typewriter shop. I‘d like to give you a name, but from the first time I met her she seemed very “holier than thou” so I never bothered to remember it. I have since called her, Typewriter Shop Lady. Her only welcome to us was, “Just so you know I have two parking spots out back and you only have one.” They never had any business, so I didn’t know why they would possibly need two anyways. It wasn’t like they would need to hire someone for the rush of non existent customers. Apparently no one had told them everyone owns computers now. I’ve been attending school in my hometown, unbeknownst to the school that I have in fact moved out of the district. It’s my senior year and I figured I could get away with it long enough to finish up. I only attend for half a day since I only need a few more credits. Every night I drag myself to work about midnight, drive the twenty five minutes from our new home to the shop, work till about six a.m. then head back home where I get ready for school. My first class begins at eight thirty so if I get off early enough I attempt to take a nap. Usually I end up sleeping through school. It’s very tricky to manage for a seventeen year who just wants to sleep! My Father works for a large phone company. He travels around to their various call centers setting up and opening them so that they can call you during dinner time and ask if you would like to save on long distance calling. He’s gone a lot but my Mom and I have gotten used to it. I have two older brothers, Shawn who is divorced with a little girl, the other Heath, married with a boy. My brother Shawn had recently moved back from Louisiana and was living with us till he got back on his feet. I don’t really mind it though, after being crammed into small homes with the both of them, I am still getting used to living in this new bigger house. It’s no mansion, but to me, it feels huge. This particular morning I found myself running late. I had once again attempted to nap for an hour, but it just made me feel even worse. My head was swimming in a fog as I tried, unsuccessfully, to regain my full consciousness. My head was starting to ache, most likely my body revolting for restarting it with no real rest. It would just have to be enough. I was determined to make it to class today. I didn’t really need to be able to think too much. My first class was Home Economics. I figured if I could provide sustenance for the masses at five a.m. I could manage some cookies in class. As I merged onto the interstate I reached into my purse for a cigarette. Although I’m not yet 18, I’ve been a smoker for awhile. I was determined to quit. I didn’t want to be that raspy voiced, leather skinned old lady that everyone thought smelled bad. However, that was a battle for another day. I flicked the radio on and turned it to the classic rock station. It wasn’t long before I was giggling at the radio show hosts, not so witty banter. Everything is funny when you’re this tired. I looked over and wondered if the car I was passing thought I was odd for laughing when I was alone in the truck. Why do I even care? I turned and waved like they were old lost friends. “That’ll keep ‘em guessing” I mumbled to myself. I had to keep myself awake somehow. In my sleepy stupor it didn’t take long to reach the school. I’d hoped my driving hadn’t been erratic but assumed I was safe since I’d heard no honking. As I entered the parking lot I searched for a spot. As in most schools, there were certain unspoken rules, right down to where you park. There were three choices. Where you parked said something of your social class. Not that there was that much difference between the students here, but I guess that’s why they call it high school. There was a big central dirt lot for your average Joe. In front of the school on the, oh so coveted pavement, is where the seniors parked. Last but not least was a lot behind the football stadium. It was furthest away and usually riddled with mud and potholes. This is where the “alternative” crowd parked. I suppose it was a statement in itself. The mud, the distance, the overall inconvenience was of no consequence to them. They felt to above these things to be bothered by them, or maybe they were just to high to notice. As I pulled in I noticed my friend Chris’s VW bus proudly parked parallel to the road so that all could see the peace sign he’d so rebelliously spray painted on the side. “Why be subtle?” I mumbled to myself. I headed into the average Joe parking lot, despite the fact that I was a senior and could have parked closer. The only statement I felt like making was one of a need to park my truck. I trudged into class and greeted my friends with a half hearted hello. Chris and Stacy were already at their seats. “You look like shit, Lanny!” Chris said a little too loudly. “Thanks! I feel pretty awesome too!” I said trying to muster up a smile. “Do me a favor and don’t start this morning, ok?” Chris had never tried to hide the distain he had for me still working at my parents shop. He thought I shouldn’t be working nights while I was still in school and he was probably right. Chris was a bit of an issue these days. He was the sweetest guy I hung out with, but that too presented its problems. I had recently split with my Fiancé, Sam. There’s not a whole lot to be said on that subject. Aside from the fact that I was too young for such decisions, I had started to understand that it was an engagement of youth and convenience. I knew if I didn’t end it I would end up living in a trailer home compound made up of the rest of his rather large family. That didn’t suit me. Not in the very least. I had been enjoying my new found freedom dating and hanging out with friends more. Although with the hours I worked it wasn’t as much time as I wished. Chris and I had hung in the same small crowd for a couple of years now. He had dated a couple of my friends off and on and had always seemed to treat them well. Over time we had become good friends. One night on a taco bell run for some of the others, he asked me out. I explained as simply as I could that I thought he was a great guy, but no. I didn’t see him that way. Despite the rejection he stayed loyal. He was always offering to club my crazy stalking ex Fiancé with a mag-lite if the need should arise. “So, you coming over to Iris’s tomorrow night?” “Eh, if I get some sleep maybe.” I said hesitantly. “Depends.” Of course this earned me a roll of the eyes from Chris. “Lanny, you’re a senior! You’re supposed to be hanging out with us doing stupid shit that you’ll regret. Not running your parents shop” “I don’t run it.” I said defensively. “Besides, we can’t all work at the tractor, farm supply, whatever store!” The very image of this was quite amusing. Although his job would suggest him to be somewhat country, he was anything but. His hair was a sandy brown and usually shaggy. His jeans were always hanging loosely off of him like he didn’t eat enough, accompanied by a tie dyed t-shirt he and I had made one afternoon after school last year. I decided to change the subject to avoid further complications. “So Stace, what’s up with you? Any special plans for your birthday?” I had known Stacy for a long time. We’d snuck out, got drunk, and into trouble together. She was the kind of girl that always thought the best of everyone. She had the heart of a child and was sweeter than any of us could ever hope to be, which is how we talked her into things. Her features only complimented her demeanor. She had wavy light blonde hair, blue eyes and always stayed small and skinny and I hated that! “Oh, I don’t know. I think James is taking me somewhere.” She smiled like only someone like her could. She was so devoted to him there was no question that it didn’t matter where they were going. At that Mrs. Smith began class. The day continued with nothing extraordinary happening. Second period was English. It had always been one of my favorite subjects but since we’d been reading The Scarlet Letter I had been pretty bored. I never liked that book. It perturbed me to no end that Arthur Dimmesdale actually thought his suffering was equivalent to Hester’s when she had to suffer publicly while trying to raise her daughter. My friend Rocky and I usually entertained ourselves by pestering our neighbor, Nick. Nick was yet another sweet, kind hearted person. This epidemic seemed to be running ramped these days. He was good looking with blonde hair, a boyish innocent face and a great smile. Back in the days when I worked at a local restaurant he had always visited me so I’d have someone to talk on slower days. The fact that I had a Fiancé didn’t really discourage him and he never forgot to tip me decently either. We had recently discovered that he blushed easily. Being teenage girls we had quite the time finding ways to make him. Usually one little word could produce our desired result. “Sex.” Rocky whispered. It took all of three seconds for the pink to creep into his cheeks. “Ha!” I blurted out. “To easy!” I said laughing. “You girls are awful!” He said, attempting to cover his cheeks. Obviously not upset at all. “You love us anyways” Rocky said. “You got any gum?” It had become Nick’s burden in life to constantly be stocked up on gum for the two of us. True to his nature, he was never out. Ah, our knight in shining armor protecting us from bad breath. “Thank you Nick” Rocky said with a devilish smile on her face. She was not unaware that she looked beautiful when she smiled. With her dark wavy hair, dark brown eyes and impish attitude she reminded me of a gypsy. English drug on till the bell finally rang. I headed to Applied Technology at the other end of the school. One more class and I can finally go home and go to bed! I slumped into my chair in front of my computer. I turned to my friend Iris and pretended to fall asleep in my chair. “Come on Lanners. Not like this class is hard.” No, it wasn’t. None of my classes were. “I know, I know. I’m just so freaking tired! What are we doing today?” “If you were ever here you’d know.” She said with no real condescension apparent. “We’re starting our designs for our iron on transfers.” “And just how does that “technology apply” to our future?” I said sarcastically. “Unless I’m gonna couple it with some expert bedazzling skills and sell my creations online I don’t see how this is useful for our future.” Just as I was finishing up my rant I saw Mr. Pennington looking at me. “Crap.” I had always liked Mr. Pennington and I felt bad that I’d been so rude. He made his way over to my desk with a smile on his face. “Lanny, glad to see you. Iris has been lonely here lately. We’re going to be making some designs for t-shirts and if you can manage to be here for a week straight you can make one too”. Man, was I gone so much that even he noticed? “Can do Mr. P. You know I will.” I said, already doubting myself. “Yeah Lanners, you’d better!” Iris and I had gotten pretty close over the past year. She had moved from her Mom’s, to her Grandma’s and then to her Dad’s just to try and stay within the school district so she could finish up her senior year with us. She’d even almost moved in with me before her Dad had decided to move close enough to help her out. Her junior year she had enlisted in the army and was now anxiously awaiting graduation. I would sometimes give her a ride to and from the recruiter’s office since she didn’t have a car. She refused to buy one even though she had a job. She said there was no point since she’d be off for basic soon anyways. Iris was always like that. From her blonde hair that she kept shoulder length to her sensible jeans and a t-shirt. She was more practical than most adults. Like me she only needed a few more credits and could have only went half a day, but she said that learning more couldn’t hurt so she had a full schedule. We got started on some ideas and attempted to accomplish something. As was usual with us we ended up laughing at each other more than anything else and before we knew it class was over. “Thank God!” I sighed. Iris headed for her next class as I made my way for the parking lot. She turned and said, “Hey, come hang out this weekend if you can, ok?” “Sure thing!” I yelled over the crowd in the hall. I was so excited to be headed home that I almost felt awake. Almost. I headed to my truck and on the way noticed that two big trucks were blocking me in. Apparently they didn’t realize some of us leave before three p.m. They must have thought it amusing to see my little red S-10 blocked by big bad manly trucks. Assholes. I unlocked my door and plopped into my seat. A puff of flour rose from the seat. Just another bonus of working in a donut shop, everything has a layer of flour on it. “Perfect” I grumbled. I attempted to maneuver my way out to no avail. I was so annoyed I wanted to scream. I got out of my truck and headed to the office. I was greeted by a somewhat sour looking older woman. “Can I help you?” “Yes, actually. My truck got blocked in and I need to leave.” I explained. “Did you park in the aisle?” she asked suspiciously. “No, I did however park in a spot, straight, that had plenty of space between cars when I left it there.” This did not make her happy. “Who is blocking you in then?” She asked snippily. Was she serious!? I don’t know who! I don’t care! I want to go home! Ok, calming down now. Almost there. Ok. “I’m really not sure.” I said with obvious strain. “I believe one is a big black ford, and the other a green chevy.” She rattled off some names and proceeded to get on the intercom to their classes to ask them to move their vehicles. I returned to my truck and waited. After a few minutes someone I should have probably known came out and moved their truck. I tried to be gracious and thanked him. Next time, it’s the hippie lot. |