Lilly's Story

Lindsay Maughan

Creative Writing Thing



         Travis

“Hey Lil, you going anywhere?” I asked as I bounced up and down in my bus seat.

“No, Travis for the millionth time I have to stay home and work,” she replied, never glancing away from the window.

“Oh, well if you’re free maybe we could hang out or something?” Lilly Ward had to be the most gorgeous girl in our class. She didn’t bother frosting her face with makeup that was made for an oompa loompa, or drawing raccoon circles around her eyes. Her hair looked like gold thread had been woven into ringlets just for her and her eyes instantly grabbed your attention with their deep sea and sky blue colors. Her milky white skin could have been carved out of marble.

“Yeah Travis of course,” she replied as she pulled her hair out of her face and clipped it back with that butterfly clip that she always had on her. As she did this her shirt came up just enough to reveal the dark black and blue bruise that covered her abdomen.

“Oh my God Lil, what the hell happened to you? Looks like you were on the losing end of a fight with Mrs. Soto!”

“Ha ha very funny, she may be big but she would never hurt a fly,” she said, rolling her eyes and quickly pulling her shirt back into place.

“You never know. All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t want to get between her and a chili cheese dog,” when she didn’t laugh I gave up with the jokes, I really was concerned. “But seriously, what happened?”

“It was nothing; I just walked into a table at work. You know how clumsy I can be.” This was very true; I had seen her walk into poles and fall walking up the stairs more times than I could remember, so I brushed it off as the bus came to a stop.

“Well this is my stop! Call me over break sometime and I’ll take you out.”

“Bye Travis,” she said holding back a smile

         As I walked up to my house my dad was sitting on the porch, which could only mean one thing.

         “Travis I got a call from your Statistics teacher today, and she says your failing?”

         “Uh…yeah…about that.”

         “Boy what has gotten into you? First you tell me you want to quit baseball and now your grades are slipping? You know you will lose your scholarship, and possibly your entire college career like this don’t you? What would your mother say if she were…” he stopped midsentence realizing his mistake.

         “If she were what, dad? Huh? ALIVE? Is that the word you were looking for? Because she isn’t, and did you ever think that maybe college isn’t for me? I don’t want to go there’s nothing for me there.”

         “Travis I didn’t mean that. And you are definitely going to college and you WILL get the education your mother and I never did.”

         I rolled my eyes and headed toward the door.

         “Where do you think you’re going?”

         “Out,” I replied.

         “No you aren’t. You’re grounded until these grades, and your attitude get better. I don’t get it, we were always so close and you have always been a good kid.”

         Well there goes hanging out with Lilly. “Yeah, well things change dad.” And so they always do.

Lilly

My last day here started out just as any other. I got up, brushed my teeth, examined the damage all the tossing and turning from the restless Saturday night of sleep had done to my hair, and went to get my cinnamon Pop tart from the pantry. Daddy was sitting in his chair like he always did, and mom was trying to get Timmy and Nate out of bed and in their church clothes just like every other Sunday. Dad stopped going a long time ago, I think the year he broke his collarbone in the station’s softball league.

“Honey can you help me with your brothers? You know they listen to you better and I’m busy right now with myself.” My mom asked as she fumbled with an empty Bic lighter and Pall Mall. “Damn it this isn’t going to work!”

It was Easter today, and mom had obviously been cheating on Lent and been smoking for the past forty days. “Mom you know that’s how Grandpa got cancer. You’re gonna kill yourself before I even graduate!”

“ Lil, the last thing I need right now is a lecture from you. I am the adult here, you seem to forget that you are still seventeen and living under your father’s roof right now.”

“You better watch your attitude girl before I wipe that smug look off your face!” What dad says goes so I shut up.

Forty 2 days, 16 hours and 3 minutes until I was an adult, free to leave for good. This was the only thing that kept me going at times like this. It was the end of spring break and graduation was coming up, coincidently the day before graduation! Freedom would be mine in a little over a month. College was next year and I had saved up enough scholarships and cash waitressing at the local Chili’s to ship myself off to the Art Institute of Chicago. Hopefully I would see the world someday as an artist, even display my art on a street in Paris like all the greats.

After church we all headed over to my Uncle Bud’s house. He was one of my mom’s brothers. She had five, all married, and all had at least three sons and no daughters. That made my cousin count at nineteen boys (plus my two brothers), and zero girls. Needless to say I spent most of the day playing with hot wheels and dodging footballs. We did all the usual stuff of course; Easter egg hunts for the younger boys, and brats and burgers on the grill. Uncle Billy drank a few too many Bud lights and Aunt Lisa locked herself in the bathroom for the fourth year in a row so all of us women sat outside the door and tried to get her to come out.

“Aunt Lisa please open the door. You know he didn’t mean any of that he’s just drunk”

Her sobbing made her words hard to understand but it sounds kind of like she said “he shouldn’t be allowed to drink.” This I cannot argue with. My uncle had a tendency to get drunk and get loud. And by loud I mean hanging his wife’s dirty laundry out for the whole family to see while she removed her cheap drug store mascara from her cheeks.

         When my mom’s bobby pin finally picks the lock and we get inside my aunt is a mess just laying in the bath tub. My mom goes up to her and gives her the same speech as years past about staying strong and prayer, and that someday he is going to wake up and change. God has a plan for everyone and her future is bright. I stand in the doorway and watch as the rest of my aunts’ shuffle out mumbling something about checking on the kids outside.

         “Tammy it’s just so hard” my aunt says while clutching a damp tissue and my mother’s hand. “He drinks and drinks and drinks, always saying the most hurtful things! I don’t want my kids to remember their father as a drunken fool.”

For a moment I envy my cousins. They are all young enough that if Uncle Billy gets help now they won’t remember him this way. My dad, my “protector”, if you will, had been beating me since my second Christmas. It used to be my mom, but she finally started fighting back. I was an easier target. He never went after my brothers, and for what reason I will never really be sure of. Maybe he took Shakespeare’s famous “frailty thy name is woman” speech a little too seriously when he was younger, I don’t know. Trips to the E.R. were always avoided, black eyes and bruises explained away as if nothing. One day my mother finally got a conscious and called the cops. Too bad dad is the cops and his buddies didn’t even bother to file a report. Eventually we got tired of falling through the cracks and just gave up all together. It was easier this way.

         On the way home that night I drove. Mom told me to take the way past Grandpa’s house to check on him, an extra 5 minutes of driving because he had left the party early rolling his portable oxygen behind him as he wheezed to the car. I didn’t mind, I loved my Grandpa.

         “Tammy I just want to get home now and watch the game. The bulls are playing and you know its post season I don’t want to miss it.”

         “But Paul I wanted to check on my dad, you saw him tonight! I’m worried we might need to take him in.”

         “Dad it’s only going to be a few minutes longer do you think you could please wait?” I pleaded as I eyed him in the rear view mirror.

         “You know how I feel about you back talking me Lillian Marie and I won’t stand for it!”

         “Dad I’m not back talking, I was just trying to…”

         “I know what you were trying to do you were trying to get in the middle of your mother’s and my business and cause more problems.”

         “Paul really, is this necessary? She was just trying to help.” My brothers recognized the urgency in my mother’s plea voice and turned up the volume to their iPod’s and directed their attention out the window.

         “Tammy, stay out of this now! If little miss big mouth over here wants to test me she can. Young lady you know better than to disrespect me.” His voice got louder as his anger boiled over and that oh too familiar vein swelled in his forehead that warned of what was likely to bring pain shooting through my jaw or my abdomen. “Do you have anything else you would to add Lil, huh? Do you? Because if you do now would be the perfect time to say it!” His voice escalated with every syllable, and my adrenaline slowly leaked into my system.

         “Paul...”

         “Lillian Marie you answer me when I speak to you!”

         Backed into a corner I decided to give him what he wanted. The first syllable of my speech barely left my lips before he sprung from his seat, covering my eyes with one hand blocking my breaths with the other. His arm felt like a tree strong and heavy on my throat as I slammed on the brakes of our Ford Expedition and gripped the wheel. Within seconds it was over, and I could see again, breathes again. I turned the car at the next light. Everyone in the car was yelling, and still in shock I finally realized why. My brothers were pinning my dad to his seat as his thick arms stretched toward me in a menacing way that caused my heart to skip a beat. My mother cried for me to pull over.

         My dad continued to fight my brother’s death grip on him and my mom told me to run, run to grandpa’s and call for help. It had started raining and the temperature had dropped to the forties, but I took off in my short sleeved dress and flip flops into the wet night.

Halfway down the dimly lit street I heard my brother. “Lil watch out he’s coming!” I turned around to see my brothers struggling to get up as my dad sprinted in my direction. I realized my flip flops weren’t helping my get away faster and slipped them off.

I felt glass and loose asphalt cut into my feet as I ran. My legs felt like solid immovable marble as they struggled to push my body faster through the streets. “Help me! Someone please help me he’s coming after me!” I screamed. No one would come out to help. It was useless.

As I reached my grandpa’s lawn he finally reached me, tackling my by the ankles like he learned in the force. The blows began to come from every direction. My face, my stomach, and my ribs. I tried to curl up, protect myself but his fists made it nearly impossible. I lay limp on the wet grass as I felt his hands grab my neck. It’s strange but I preferred this. Within a minute I would no longer be conscious and the pain would go away. The beatings could go for hours without that same relief. In my head I say a prayer as I stare into my father’s eyes that bare a look that will haunt me even in my grave. I finally shut my eyes giving up, my hands fall limp beside my body and eventually everything faded to black.

         Travis

         At first I thought it was my imagination, that the screaming I heard outside was just the result of watching a few too many scary movies the night before at Jake’s house, simple paranoia. When I first heard the sirens I thought it was an accident downtown, didn’t give it a second thought until I saw the lights of 5 police cars race past my window.

         “Hey I’m going down the street to see what is going on, it looks important, you want to tag along?” My dad asked at my doorway.

         My curiosity got the best of me and I put my under armor sweatshirt on and follow him out the door. There was a mess of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances outside the little white house a block away. This is Lilly’s Grandpa’s house. She used to come clean for him sometimes, and I started mowing his lawn ever since he got diagnosed last year. I wonder if the treatment wasn’t working for the poor guy anymore. As we approached, I see that the paramedics are focusing on something completely different, a pale white body covered in blood on the lawn. I reach the police line just in time to witness a paramedic pronounce her dead. As the intubation mask is removed from the body I notice the honey silk curls.

         It was her. It was Lilly. This realization causes my stomach to drop to my ankles and my color to leave my face. I suddenly can’t function.

         “No, it can’t be her…no…” I whisper over and over.

         “Travis? Travis what is it? Travis do you know her?” My dad’s look of concern brings me back to where I am.

         “Dad its Lilly Ward!”

         “From your kindergarten class? Are you sure?”

         “Yes it’s her! I know her I see her everyday at school!” By this time tears are coming down my face and for the first time I’m not embarrassed for my dad to see me cry.

         “Paul Ward, you are under arrest for the murder of Lillian Ward. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law…” A young officer cuffs Lilly’s father and ushers him to the back of a squad car as Lilly’s mom dives under the police tape and scoops up Lilly’s lifeless body into her arms as she sobs. I notice her two brothers sitting on the porch step, both staring into space wide eyed as an officer tries to get statements from them. When the coroner arrives my dad walks home with me, consoling me the whole way.

I didn’t sleep much that night, or for a few nights after that one either. The image of Lilly’s face, swollen and bloodied haunts me when I close my eyes, and the screams that I dismissed as my imagination bring through my ears. The next few days it’s all anyone talks about. At school the girls hug each other and cry, and the guys pretend that they aren’t as affected by this as we all are. I walk through the halls at the pace of a sloth. My mind is as functioning as that of a goldfish who has given up trying to escape the glass bowl long ago.

         The funeral was that Thursday. Mrs. Ward stood by the casket in her black dress crying as friends and family pay their respects. Tim and Nate stand awkwardly beside their mom in suits that are a little too small for them and shaking the hands of strangers. The line for viewing is long and I wait almost an hour to see the body. There are hundreds of people there from the school and the community. When it is finally my turn I stand there for only a brief moment before turning away. Her face was still swollen, but the bruises and all were covered in makeup that was too dark for her fair skin and made her look orange. She was missing her butterfly clip, something I had never seen her without. None of this seemed real. This was not the Lilly that I knew. The father announces that a break will be taken before the service and I go outside for some fresh air.

T.V. crews and reporters stand in the parking lot, so I go to the back of the building and find a bench to sit down. Around the corner walks Lilly’s mom smoking a cigarette. When she notices me she looks surprised and stops abruptly.

“Were you a friend of Lilly’s?”

“Yeah we’ve had all classes together every year since kindergarten, and our friends hung out a lot. She was really a great girl, not like her friends. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

She takes another drag from her cigarette closing her eyes. “You know, Lilly hated that I smoke. She said I wouldn’t make it to her graduation. Guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore do I?” Not knowing what to say I just sit there in silence watching her. “Well I better be getting back inside before someone starts to worry. What did you say your name was again?”

“Uh I didn’t say, but it’s Travis.”

“Ah yes, Travis. I think I remember her mentioning you, are you the pitcher?”

“Yup, that’d be me.”

“You better be going to college next year. I’d hate to see a boy my daughter was so fond of throw his life away.”

“Actually I decided to go into the Marines,” my dad and I had talked it over this week and decided it was the best thing. I didn’t want to waste what was left of my life on school. My life needed meaning.

“Now that is a very respectable thing to do. Lilly would have been proud.” With that and a smile she walked away.