The Fillmore Ch 7

Hey there! First of all, thank you for taking the time to read my work. This is my first attempt at a novel, and it is proving to be a challenge! I welcome encourage any and all feedback. Tell me what you think, good, bad, or otherwise. I try to always return the favor with a review or gp's, so don't hold back! Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy...
NM

P.S. The minor issue I found was that this dream conflicts with the timeline I set up of Zoey's life. This general idea of the dream will stay the same, but the events will change, and she'll be slightly younger. Keep an eye out for the rewrite of this chapter.

Chapter 7
         Zoey was climbing through her bedroom window when the top of her head came into contact with it, making a loud noise. She froze, listening hard, and heard the unmistakable sounds of her father mumbling drunkenly and stumbling around in the kitchen. She shed her clothing as fast as she could, throwing on a nightgown in it’s place. Slipping into bed, she squeezed her eyes shut and pleaded with whoever was listening to let him have not heard her entrance. She’d snuck out after her father went to bed, going to a party she’d heard about. There had been beer there, and something acrid tasting in little metal pipes that they passed around. She had quickly gotten drunk and stoned, and spent the ensuing two hours giggling and laying on a couch.
         Now, she was mostly sober as she listened to the stumbling footsteps come up the stairs, pausing a couple times when he tripped. Zoey held her breath, pretending to be asleep, in case he came into her room. That trick rarely worked, he would wake her up if he was angry enough, but she hoped he didn’t know she’d left. She listened as he came closer to her door, and then paused in front of it. Her heart was racing as she lay, tensed, in her bed. Suddenly, there was a loud crack followed by an equally loud bang, he had kicked the door in. Zoey looked up at him, feigning bleary eyed confusion.
         “Don’t you give me that shit. Where were you,” he demanded, slurring quite a bit.
         “Wh- I was-” she stuttered.
         “Don’t lie to me, you snuck out. Where’d you go? Sneak off to see some boy, you little slut?” Zoey gaped in shock. She’d given him no reason to think she even knew any boys, and he’d never called her a slut before. He’d never been quite this degrading with her.
         “I went to a party,” she gasped as tears of terror began falling down her face.
         “A party, huh? You look kinda stoned. Bet you got high and let that boy touch you didn’t you?”
         “No! There was no boy-” he cut her off with a slap to the face.
         “Shut up,” he growled in a low voice she’d never heard before. He grabbed her blankets and ripped them off the bed, flinging them carelessly across the room. She cringed back, bringing her hands over her face, expecting another blow. Instead, he grasped the neck of her nightgown in both hands, pulling them in opposite directions and ripping it right down the front. She instinctually tried to cover herself with her arms but he grabbed both wrists with one hand and held them above her head. She could not fathom what was happening, but then he grabbed her flesh roughly, pinching it between his fingers. She’d whimpered as he man-handled her, but when his hand left her skin and went to the button of his pants, she started screaming.

         “Zoey? Zoey!” She jumped, sitting fully upright and nearly colliding with Alyssa’s concerned face. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, wiping the tears from her face. Alyssa came and sat beside her, moving to put her arms around her. Zoey started again at the contact and struck out, shoving Alyssa’s hands away from her.
         “No, don’t touch me!” she wailed.
         “Zoey! What’s wrong? Do you want me to get Claire?” At the sound of Claire’s name, Zoey seemed to snap out of it, seemingly noticing it was Alyssa for the first time.
         “Alyssa?” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry…” she fell into the girls arms and wept. Alyssa stroked her hair softly and held her for a moment. “No, don’t bother Claire, I’m fine,” she finally replied.
         “FINE?! You are not fine!” Alyssa protested,
         “I will be, I just thought you were-,” she paused, “him.”
         “Him who?”
         “My father,” she said, her head drooping.          
         “Zoey, did he…you know…hurt you?”
         “Yes, he did Alyssa. Badly enough to make scars that don’t fade away. I’m sorry I haven’t been fully honest with you, I just wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
         Alyssa was silent for several moments. Then she whispered, “mine did too…and my mom,” and she laid her cheek against Zoey’s hair as a few of her own tears leaked out.
         “They did?” she asked.
         “Yes, I haven’t been fully honest with you either. I mean, it’s not the easiest subject to bring up, you know? ‘Oh by the way, my parents hated me and they used to beat me and tell me I was worthless.’ I can’t imagine that being a great way to keep friends.”
         “No, I suppose not. I don’t really remember my mother. When I think about her, all I remember is happiness and long, silky, black hair. I used to love her hair…” she trailed off. She seemed to be elsewhere, but soon resumed talking. “My father used to tell me that my birth made her weak, and that’s why she got sick. She died when I was three. He was just sad for a long time, but then he started getting angry. At first, he was just sort of rude. Then he started yelling, and soon he was beating me regularly, for any little thing he could think of. I was thirteen the first time he raped me.” This last, she said quietly, as if ashamed. Alyssa did not respond for several long minutes.
         “Zoey, I can’t say I know what you went through entirely, but I did experience a little of the same. But before I tell you this, you have to promise me you wont stop being my friend, or start hating me or something. I’d never, never, do anything you don’t like, you believe me right?”          
         “Yes, of course. I’ve only known you for a couple days, but I know I can trust you,” she replied, confused. “And I don’t think you can say  anything more shameful than what I just told you.”
         “Being raped is not something to be ashamed of. I mean, it’s not exactly something to parade around, but my point is, what he did to you was not your fault. Whether or not your birth did make you mother weak is beyond me, but how could you have caused it purposely? Babies can‘t do that on purpose,” she reasoned. “I learned something after I came here, Zoey. It took me a long, long time, but maybe I can spare you the suffering. My parents told me that I was worthless, and a waste of a child, and I believed them! But you know what, people who tell you that, don’t know what they are talking about. I may have only known you for a couple days, but you are the gentlest, kindest girl I know. Whatever he told you, he was lying,” she spat, thoroughly disgusted.
         “Alyssa, you’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known…” She finally relaxed in Alyssa’s arms, even putting her own around the other girl.
         “What were you going to tell me?” she asked after awhile.  Alyssa stiffened for a split second, just long enough for Zoey to notice. She nervously pulled away, much to Zoey’s confusion. She scooted back, putting a little space between them, and faced her.
         “My parents were devout Catholics. They went to church every Sunday, we spent most of the holidays in mass, and they were very strict. I had certain restrictions, like keeping my bedroom spotless, and not having boys over. They demanded that I wear a dress or skirt at all times, I was only allowed to wear pants to bed, in the form of pajamas. When I was fourteen, I told them I was gay.” She let that statement hang between them, wondering how Zoey would take it.
         “That’s why they were so mean to you?” she asked incredulously. “That’s stupid!”
         Alyssa let out an audible sigh of relief, “you don’t care?”
         “That you’re gay? No!”
         “Really? That’s why the other girls picked on me, before I manifested. I confided that in the wrong person, and she told everyone.”
         “That’s your own business, whether you like girls or boys, and it’s no one’s place to judge you on it.” A curious look came over her face, and she asked, “Alyssa, what’s your totem?”
         “The Melanistic Jaguar,” she said, smiling with fondness, “a black jaguar.”
         “That seems fitting…” Zoey murmured.
         “Why do you say that?”
         “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re so…graceful looking! And fierce!” she added, sounding almost surprised. Alyssa laughed at that and moved back over, pulling Zoey into her arms again.
         “You really are the sweetest girl ever.” She smiled, happy that Zoey would not judge her for her preferences. “What’s yours?”
         “Oh…uh, I actually don’t know.”
         “You don’t know? What do you mean?”
         “Well…I haven’t Changed yet. Claire says I didn’t go through the part where my emotions go out of control, and the animal steps in to take over.”
         “Huh, I’ve never heard of that happening before…”
         “Apparently it’s rare, but it has happened before.”
         “I wonder if I could find anything about it in the archives…”Alyssa started, then trailed off.
         “The archives? What do you mean?”
         Alyssa looked a little sheepish then explained, “History is kind of…a hobby for me. The library here has a small archive of books about shifters, and if they would let me, I’d spend all day in there.” She had a kind of dreamy smile on her face that told Zoey it was more of a passion than a hobby.
         “Cool! Do they have history classes here?” she asked.
         “Oh yeah, they have the standard history class where they talk about the Lady, the very first shifter. They go on to skim over the formation of our government and other major historical events, but that’s all basic stuff. I’ve been trying to talk the history teacher into tutoring me, I might like to work in archival when I leave here. He doesn’t have time right now, because he has some side project going on, but he says we can start soon.” She went on, talking about some of the interesting things she’d learned while poking around in the archives. Zoey listened, fascinated, until a yawn reminded Alyssa that Zoey actually had to sleep, unlike her.
         “Oh, I’m sorry! You should probably get back to sleep, huh?” she asked.
         “Yeah,” she yawned again, “I should. But…Alyssa, would you mind if I slept up there with you?” Alyssa seemed to brighten at the question.
         “Of course, it’s a queen!” She scooted over, making room for Zoey who climbed up with her pillow.
         Alyssa turned the lamp off and the two girls lay side by side, looking up at the dark ceiling. Zoey’s hand inched over until their fingertips were touching, and soon they were holding hands. They slept like this the rest of the night, peaceful and happy.