Scary story
15 years, 4 months & 12 days ago
5th Jul 2009 01:20 I didn???t know how much longer I could take this, the beatings, the drinking. Even as I thought this, his fists rained down on me, never letting up. He pushed me towards the living room. I pulled my head down and tried to block the beatings, and they came harder. I was trying to keep my feet on the ground but he tripped me, I landed hard on the couch. Someone was there already; he grumbled and pushed me off, saying something about how sexy he was. I suspected he was drunk, or high. Whatever. I sat in the floor, curled in a fetal position. I was only able to block half my face. The other half was open to any new torture he came up with. I groaned.
"Stop please!??? I yelled, over and over, until my voice, along with my sanity, was gone. He didn't care. My attacker laughed cruelly.
"This is what you get! You should have never opened your mouth!" He yelled back at me as he kic.ked, punched and pinched every bit of flesh I had. His curses faded away until I figured it out. Just let go. Fall slowly into the black hole. No pain. No thoughts, no dad???
I felt myself came to, realizing the beating had stopped. I sensed someone near me but I didn???t care. The bruises started to ache, and I knew I preferred being unconscious rather than face the pain. I stayed on the floor until the person above me started wiggling around, like he was having a bad dream. Good. I crawled to all fours, just in case he woke and stepped on me, and went towards the kitchen, crawling over another body, a woman. My father had obviously had a party after my beating. God knows what was being smoked. Lana must have been so scared. We usually were together when he threw a party. Where was she? I will go to her after I take inventory of myself.
My ribs ached and I knew I had at least sprained one. I pulled myself to my knees with the plastic chair my father usually sat at when he was around. It hurt so bad. What was I going to tell my friends at school, my boss at work?
I limped over to the fridge, and opened it. An empty gallon of milk, an empty jar of peanut butter and moldy cheese. I would have to go shopping after work and after I looked halfway decent. I went to the bathroom to see the damage. Half my face was undamaged, it must have been the side I was able to cover, but the other half was covered in bruises. The rest of my bruises could be covered up. Even though it???s summer, I can wear jeans and a long sleeved shirt. I studied myself in the mirror. My green eyes were haunted, and one was black. I could probably cover it up with make-up and make some excuse up. My usually red pouty lips were swollen and bleeding. My fair skin bruised easy, unfortunately and right now, it looked like someone had taken black and blue paints and colored my face in. My reddish-brown hair was tangled and dull. It was covered in blood. So were my clothes, but at least my hair wasn???t in tatters like my jeans.
Is this really me? I thought to myself, Is this really the normally cool, well-groomed Ana Baker? It couldn???t be. I closed my eyes, the image of me, looking half dead, still burned in them. I shook my head. Time for a shower. I walked over to the white bathtub with an attached shower nuzzle on top. The dial for the hot/cold water turned easy in my hands. I turned it left, towards the hottest setting. I climbed in, not caring about my clothes getting wet or the blood that stained the outside of the tub. The water turned red as it washed the blood away. I was in a sea of red water. I waited for the water to get hot. I wanted to feel something, anything besides the deadness in me. I waited. And waited. Was something wrong with the water? I didn???t feel a thing. I watched my hand under the faucet. My hand turned red and I felt a sort of tingle. That was it. I saw steam come from the water, but I didn???t feel it scald my body. I saw it, I heard it. But I couldn???t feel it. My hearing became fuzzy. I was in the dark hole again.
???Ana, Ana, Ana.??? A voice chanted. I focused my eyes on a man, standing over me. ???Falling asleep in the bathtub with your clothes on? Are you afraid someone might see you? Don???t worry. I didn???t peek. Yet. Now get up and feed your sister lunch. I???m sure she is hungry after last night???s activities.??? He winked at me, the same way he did before he attacked me. I jumped up, angry.
???Did you touch her? You better not have! I???ll kill you!??? Even as I said it I knew the truth, and how I wouldn???t be able to even touch him before he killed me. ???She???s only eight??? What did you do to her???? I whimpered. He laughed. Was he drunk? I thought before I felt last night come back in a sweep of memory, only him on top of my little sister, Lana. I shivered, cold sweeping over me.
???Oh, please. Nothing much happened. Nothing like what happened to you. She is better. More willing too??? His voice turned high, ??????I???ll do anything, please, don???t hurt Ana!??? Oh yes, she was fun!??? He giggled. Definitely drunk. ???Oh yes, fun.??? His eyes glinted with evil as he picked me up, touching me uncomfortably.
???Let me go! Let me go!??? I beat his back weakly with my fists. It was no use; he was way stronger than me. He finally dropped me on top of my sister???s bed, waking her in the process. Lana???s hair was tousled and her clothing wrinkled. I didn???t have time to do the laundry. Again. She swallowed her scream and held me, glaring at him. I bit back a sob. She was so brave, standing up to him. He was ten times her size and could have killed her with one hard blow to the head. He walked leisurely out to his car, laughing the whole way. He was probably off to a friend???s house to get drunk.
???Oh Lana, I???m so sorry! Where did he hurt you???? She was quiet. I scanned her. No visible bruises, yet. ???Lana! Tell me. Did he beat you hard???? She was still quiet. ???Harder than me? Where????
???Ana. Don???t freak out. I can???t have him hurting you again! He??? didn???t beat me, that much. But he...??? I started to freak out.
???What. Did. He. Do. To. You.??? I asked, trying to calm myself. Breath in, breath out. Good. I???m fine. He wouldn???t hurt an 8-year old right?
???He didn???t do anything. I promise??? She kept her eyes down. I breathed in again.
???Lana, tell me the truth. I promise, if he??? touched you, we will go. I don???t know where, but we will leave here. I have money, from my job. I will work harder, we can move into an apartment?????? My mind was racing, already thinking up plans. She interrupted me.
???No! Ana, we can???t just run away from our problems. We should face this, head-on.??? I scowled at her. An 8-year old should not be this mature.
???Like mom did? No, Lana, we must leave. In one week. God, I don???t even know how much money I have. I???ll search the house, you, go back to bed. Wait, are you hungry? I???ll get you something when I get some food for us, not him.??? I was babbling, like I do when I get nervous. One of my old boyfriends used to think it was cute. Until he found out why I was so nervous all the time. He cut it off over the phone, not that I wasn???t surprised. Lana looked at me, long and hard. Mentioning mom made her mad, and also more able to confuse. It was her weakness only I knew about.
???Fine, we???ll leave in a week. I???m not hungry, save your money and I???ll comb the house for money that might have fell out of drunken men???s pockets. Hey, do you think if I ask them for money they???ll be drunk enough to give it to me???? She looked excited, a complete change in attitude. I wonder what made her so willing. Maybe it was just mom. Or maybe she was trying to make me feel better. I know I???ve been a bit depressed but I thought I was handling it well??? I???ll just have to do better.
???Lana, as long as you aren???t stealing, it???s fine with me. And I???ll pick up some McDonalds. It???s only 8 am so??? Damn! I???ve been knocked out for 8 hours? Is that even natural? No, probably not. I???ve got to go to work soon. The store is already open and I???m working 12 pm to 1 am. Yeesh, I???ve got so many things to do!??? I was walking out the door, my voice trailing along as I wrote down a list of to-do things while trying to figure out how long it will take me to walk to my work, Benny???s Groceries and McDonalds before 12.
Lana was following me. ???Uh, Ana??????? I turned, annoyed at my thoughts being broken into. I felt them drift away. Damn.
???What is it Lana???? She pointed to my clothes.
???Shouldn???t you change first? You???re all bloody and wet??????
I looked down at my clothes. My blue jeans were red and torn in places that shouldn???t be torn. My purple tank top, my favorite one, was spattered with blood. I was unsure if it was all mine. I couldn???t bleed that much right?
???You are right Lana; I???m a mess aren???t I???? I smiled at her and giggled. She giggled back.
???You sure are. That???s why I love you. Now get changed and get us outta here.??? My smile faded. What could I wear to work? This was my only clean pair of jeans??? Maybe I have shorts? I don???t even know if I can wear shorts to work. Oh well. Lana stretched her short arms up to me, cutting off my thoughts. I picked her up, something I haven???t done since she was around 5. She buried her face in my neck. I whispered into her ear, even though she was half way asleep.
???I love you too, Lana. More than you know.??? A tear rolled down my cheek. I put her down on her bed and even though I know I should???ve dried off and gotten dressed, I curled up next to her and cried like I was a child who cut her knee instead of a 17-year old who got beaten by her father. It felt good. Crying really was the perfect release from adulthood.
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