Chapter One: Going Home

Chapter One: Going Home

         When I finally got to Ohio, I stood in front of that two story house in Akron.  It was so easy to spot, being that all the other houses on the street were ranch houses.  I could only stare at the lawn, the porch, the front door.  Oh, how it had changed!  It made me wonder if Ashelle and Lucifer still lived there.

         My story started five years before.  I was seventeen, almost eighteen.  Lynn was my entire life, and she was stolen from me when we were just beginning to see our future together.  I plan to take you back, even further than that point, into my past.  I want to share my story.

*****

         “Ah!”  Closing my eyes, I turned my face away from Mother.  My cheek stung with the force of her slap.  I had grown very accustomed to her assault over the seven years she had been abusing me, but that did not stop the pain.

         “You’ll eat when I say you can eat, you good-for-nothing little shit!”  She backhanded me again.  The second slap was unnecessary, but if I so much as opened my mouth in protest she would hit me again.

         “Okay Ma’am… I understand,” was the only thing I could say in response.  I forced tears to well up in my eyes.  They were false tears, crocodile tears.  They were the only way out without more pain.  Tears satisfied Mother for some reason I did not understand.

         “Get your ass to school and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you eat a little dinner.”  I only nodded and slung my ratty, old backpack over my shoulder.  Mother turned to Resa, the baby sister I had been allowed to name, and pulled her little arms through the sleeves of her hot pink jacket carefully.  “Come on, Princess.  We have to get you to preschool.”

         Resa looked back at me, daringly, after Mother walked out the door.  She knew she would not be hit, but she did not want Mother abusing me either.  “I love you big brother.”  I smiled weakly at the girl’s soft voice.

         “Theresa Rosemary!”  Mother shrieked.  “We need to go!”

         “I love you too Resa.  Now go before Mommy gets angry.”

         “Okay!” She giggled as she ran out the door.

         I was in no hurry.  I knew I was going to be late anyway.  I was always late when Mother made me walk.  The only time I got into any real trouble at school was when we had a substitute; all my teachers knew the story of my life.  I sighed, shoving a hand into the pocket of my jeans.

         I had given up hope a very long time ago.  A predominant part of me felt as though I deserved this hell.  There was something I had done absolutely wrong somewhere, during sometime, and this was my punishment.  Maybe I really had killed Anna when I was ten.  Maybe I really was the cursed devil spawn, and one look at that poor baby girl had made her forget to breath.  Maybe Mother really did have the right to slap, stab, burn, and yes, even shoot at me.  Maybe I really was better off dead, as Mother had said so many times.

         I went into the bathroom, splashing my face with cool water in an attempt to soften the redness in my cheek.  My hazel eyes locked with my reflection’s gaze.  I wrinkled my nose.  I was ugly.  I closed my left eye and watched my fingers trace the pinkish scar.  After seven years, I had learned to live with the difference in depth perception.  I just had to be a little careful sometimes.

         With a heavy sigh, I made my way out the door and started off towards school.  It was one of the warmer days in autumn, so I did not mind the walk.  The problem was seeing all the leaves dropping to the ground.  Winter would be hell.

         By the time I arrived at school, it was almost the end of first period. I was not really paying attention, nor was I walking very fast.  I had Physics first period, and I didn’t like the teacher, Mr. Allen, all that much.  I did not think he liked me either.  I did not notice the footsteps nearing me until after the brunette sophomore had run into me.  She almost fell, but I grabbed her arm to steady her.

         “I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed nervously.  Her face flushed a deep red.

         “No, it was my fault; I wasn’t paying attention.”  I gave her a soft smile before crouching down to pick up the papers and notebooks that had scattered all over the floor.  “Here you go.”

         “Thanks.”  She was still blushing with embarrassment as she took her things back. 

         “No problem.”

         “I… I have to go.”

         I nodded and we started to part ways.  A bright purple notebook caught my eye.  It had slid across the floor and had come to rest by the lockers.  I picked it up.  “Hey, you…”  I turned around, only to see that the girl was gone.  “…forgot this.”  I shook my head and shrugged off one shoulder strap, swinging my book bag around a little.  I unzipped my bag and shoved the notebook in.  I would take it to the office after school, since I doubted we would have another meeting like that.

         Seventh period, I usually have a study hall.  I spoke with Miss Evan and she allowed me to go to the library.  I set my backpack on the floor near my feet, sitting at a table.  I was generally good at doing all my work, but as I started to pull things out of my book bag, I found the girl’s notebook again.

         I looked up at the clock.  I would have to wait until the study hall was over to take it to the office.  So instead, I opened it to find the name Lynn Brown scrawled in neat, not to mention beautiful, cursive on the inside.  Lynn was such a gorgeous name.  It fit the girl perfectly.  The first page in the notebook was empty, but I could see that there were things written on the pages beyond.

         Turning the page, I found word after word scrawled in hurried, perfect print.  My eyes started to drift along the page.  I took in every sentence as though they were all the meals I had ever missed because of Mother’s neglect.  Her way with words was one I could not resist.  I was soon consumed in the story that was scribbled in that notebook.

         By the time I looked at the clock hanging above the door, it was three fifteen in the afternoon.  I jumped up hurriedly, shoving everything except the notebook back into my bag.  I was going to be late getting home.  Mother would kill me!  I started towards the library entrance when a small movement caught my eye.  I turned my head to see the brunette standing at a shelf, reading and twirling her hair around her finger.

         “Um, Lynn?” I approached her.

         “Huh?  Oh it’s you!”  She smiled softly, closing the book.  “Did you need something?”

         “You forgot this.”  I held out the notebook to her.

         “Oh!  Thanks.”  She smiled more, taking it back.  “I was wondering where I put it.  I just figured I left it at home though.”  She set the notebook on the shelf and hugged me.  I blinked in surprise and hugged her back.

         “Um, no problem.”  Lynn grabbed the notebook and slid the novel back onto the shelf.  She then started to walk away.  “Ah, wait!”

         “Hmm?”  She turned towards me, tilting her head slightly.

         “That’s an excellent story.”  I gestured to the notebook.

         “Aw, thanks, but it could be better.”  She blushed and looked down.

         “I don’t think so.  I haven’t read anything that good.”

         “Thanks.”  She stopped for a moment, then looked up at the clock.  “Oh, I, uh, need to go.  I’ll see you… Thomas, right?”

         “Yeah,” I smiled and started to follow her out of the library.  “See you.”

         When I arrived home, Mother attacked, as expected.  I had absolutely nothing to eat and was forced to clean up with the dizzying scent of ammonia in the air.  I scrubbed the floor for what felt like a lifetime.  My head was spinning so badly that I thought I was going to throw up, even if all I had in me was stomach acid, when Mother finally grabbed my forearm and yanked me out of the bathroom. 

         “Get to bed!” She growled harshly, throwing me out into the hall.  I stumbled, but caught myself before I could fall and smack my face into the wall.  I was only grateful that was allowed to sleep in my bed another night.  Mother was notorious for tossing me outside, especially on the colder autumn and winter nights.  I still had the old, rotted playhouse Dad had built for me many, many years ago, but it was getting to be much too small.

         Dad was gone now.  He had left a few years ago, just after Resa was born.  For a short while I was naïve enough to believe he was going to come back.  I suppose he had merely decided that Mother’s abuse, not only the physical attacks towards me but also the verbal ones on him, were too much.  He must have just decided he could not take it anymore.  I did not hate him for leaving, not at all.  I hated him for not taking Resa and me with him.  I guess that was not much of a choice for him either though.  Mother fought viciously in court.

         I walked feebly to my bedroom, standing for a moment at the doorway.  I stared in at the uncovered mattress and sighed.  Why, oh why, did this happen to me?  What had I done to deserve this terrible fate?  Tears welled up in my eyes, real tears this time.  I took a deep breath and held them in until after I had closed the bedroom door.  Mother had treated me so well when I was young.  She had actually loved me then.  The only thing that changed that was the death of Anna.  I had blamed myself from the beginning, as had Mother.

         I climbed onto my bare bed and curled up.  I noticed my body starting to tremble.  I truly wished it would stop.  I hated to cry, especially since there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation.  I had no job, no money, no escape.  There was no sense in wasting tears on a lost cause. 

         My shaking did not stop, despite my efforts to calm down.  Eventually tears started to spill down my nose and the side of my face; making a small damp spot on the pillow case of the single pillow I was allotted.  I held that pillow tightly in my arms, for it was the only thing I had at the moment. 

        This moment brought me back to before Dad left us.  One night Mother and he were fighting, so Resa came into my room because she was scared.  The next morning Mother pointed a .22 at me.  The bullet just missed my head.  I had not died only because she wanted me as her little plaything for awhile longer.

         I tried to think of happier things; tried to lull myself to sleep.  Nothing seemed to work except for the tears dripping down my face.  Even though I had heard that crying always made people feel better, it never had been so kind to me.  It only left me feeling tired and groggy. 

I finally fell into a light sleep somewhere near one in the morning.  Just darkness and nothing else was what my dreams were made of until just before I awoke.  I swear I saw Lynn’s smiling face.