Chapter 3: Blue Eye
Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood.
That was exactly how I felt.
I should change my name to miss Nothing Good already.
I screamed in my pillow. Beyoncé burst from my speakers, burning the screams away in their high spoken words. Luckily my parents weren't home. My mother was probably burring herself in paperwork and my father was without a doubt sitting in some bar, drinking his brain out. If he still had one of course.
I twirled around, pulling the covers over me. My eyes were etching, because of all the tears they had managed to let out.
Mrs. Green had kicked us all out, including me. She was angry, but why me? I hadn't done anything.
Why hadn't Cynthia slapped me? Did someone hold her back? And if so, who?
She had stopped herself. That had to be it. Wouldn't it ruin her reputation to slap someone in a Diner? Maybe.
As the song shifted and an old Katy Perry song came rushing, I hurried over to shift it off. Not that I hate Katy, I just couldn't stand listening to anything anymore. I needed to be able to think. To write.
I sat down at my desk and found an old computer from my white painted drawer.
I took in a sharp breath and flickered it open in an easy move. The screen lit up and asked for a password.
I wrote fast and soon I was in, ready to get my thoughts down on the screen, describing them with a sensitive touch and refreshing mind.
The words swung out. My fingers typed fast and rolled over the keyboard. I didn't have the urge to look at the keyboard, my fingers knew exactly where to place themself.
As I developed a plot, my writing was more packed in and limited, however, it didn't stop me from breaking all the rules. Jumping out into something new. Something exciting.
It was a love story about two completely different people finding love in their darkest time.
It was surprising how I could easily write a beautiful dialogue, but when it came to speaking in real life, my words got stuck in my throat. I knew so many words, beautiful words, small words, big words, bad words, alluring words, I could go on. But nothing would come forward when I needed it to.
The sun disappeared, leaving the stars to shine bright, framing the alluring moon. I took a glance out, noticing how beautiful everything was.
It was quite. My mother didn't yell at someone on her phone. My father didn't complain or threw plates on the wall while yelling something about all the drugs he had consumed. For a moment I'd let myself enjoy being alive. Enjoy being here and having survived 5 years in Hell.
"Child!"
And it was over. Just like that. Snapped right before my eyes.
I sighed. "Yes?"
"Come downstairs," he yelled, followed by a late, "now!"
I didn't know what he had planned, but it couldn't be good. It never was.
I tramped downstairs, thinking all the possible scenarios through. I found him in the living room His shirt was off and he swung around, aiming for the chair.
"You called, dad." My voice shook more than I liked. I already knew I was weak, he didn't have to.
"Indeed I did." He fell onto the chair and spread out his massive frame. His stomach turned into several massive fat rolls.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my voice still shaking.
He looked hurt before anger filled the thick alcoholic air. "Do you really think so poorly of your own father?" he roared, leaning forward.
"N-no, of course not." That didn't save me.
"You little slut. You're just like your mother." He fumbled up from the chair, trying to keep steady.
"I'm sorry, father." That only made it worse.
"You're sorry? You're fucking sorry! To hell with sorry, slut."
He hit me. Right on the cheek, letting it burn before he planted another one on the other cheek.
It hurt. Pain filled me, but I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I was already empty.
I gritted my teeth, clenching my sweaty fists. I wanted to do something. I wanted to throw him right out again, but I didn't. I was a coward and this was the consequence.
He kept yelling, but I didn't listen. Tomorrow he wouldn't even be able to remember anything, so why should I.
"Go to your room, you worthless piece of shit." He tried to point to the stairs, but his finger was turned towards the kitchen.
I gulped and hid my face behind my hair before I sprinted up the stairs. The tears had finally come and the pain was still overwhelming.
It would definitely leave a bruise. And I had a hard explaining day ahead of me.
I looked in my mirror.
I really am worthless. Just like he said.
I'm a worthless piece of shit nobody wants and still, I'm here. My mother doesn't know anything and my hero of a brother ran as soon as he could. Nobody cares. People may ask "how are you?", "how is it going?" But they don't care. It seems like it until they stab you in the back and walk away with a smile dancing over their lips.
That's the world.
That's my life.
I threw myself on the bed, pressing my head into the pillow, hoping it would soak up my silent tears.
I let a wave of exhaust overwhelm me and consume me in a deep slumber.
I had nightmares that night too. My father was beating me. He kept throwing punch after punch. Blood had filled my vision and at that moment I had wished for it to stop. For it all to stop, but someone had saved me. He had pulled me into another world in his warm arms. However, it turned into a nightmare again, when I saw it was Anthony.
I glided my fingers across my blue eye. It still hurt but wasn't that bad. I could easily make up and excuse.
It was Friday, meaning that the weekend soon would be dancing on me, making sure I would be flat when its show where over.
My mother would be home Sunday for about one to three hours. I would have to talk to her and she would try to listen without drifting into her papers.
My father would probably be gone the whole weekend, buying alcohol and new drugs.
I leaned my ear against the cold door. There came no sound from downstairs, so it was free to go.
I jumped down the stairs and strolled into the kitchen there looked like a hot mess. Junk food laid everywhere and chips had fallen to the ground. A single plate laid shattered on the ground by the wall.
I sighed and threw it all out in the trash and then cleaned the floor so no one would get cut.
It didn't look good after either, but not bad, so I took what I could get.
I pulled open the cabinet and searched for my Cheerios. I always put them in a new place, so my dad wouldn't eat it all one drunk night.
A bowl already laid on the counter and it didn't look dirty, so I grasped it and prepared my breakfast in it.
I glanced at the clock, before sitting down.
7:26 AM.
I had plenty of time as usual, so I concentrated on my food. But I wasn't that hungry, so I got bored easily and ended up throwing it out and returning to my room in utter silence.
How am I supposed to face Cynthia today? She'll kill me.
I sighed and threw my light body on my bed, sinking into the comfy blankets and pillows. It was nice to be alone with my thoughts. To let them wander where ever they wanted.
I laid there until the clock finally turned 7:40 and I was out the door on my way to school. My father was still in bed moaning and complaining in his deep sleep.
I pulled my pitch-black hoodie over my head and turned my gaze down at the ground.
Tony walked out as I passed him. "Nina?" He asked, causing me to stop and look upwards.
"Hey, Tony." I managed to give him a little wave before he pulled me into a hug.
I didn't hug back. I just stood still. Sure Tony and I had small conversations whenever I would pick up pizzas for my dad, but nothing more. He had also been my brother's friend when they had been in high school, but I had hidden in my room and dreamt about being as big as them. I regret that now.
He pulled away, placing his rough hands on my shoulders. He scanned my face and his deep brown eyes landed on my blue eye. "What happened?" Deep lines appeared on his forehead.
"I fell on my way home from work yesterday," I mumbled and avoid his eyes. I bit down my lip.
"Yeah..." He hesitated. "Mrs. G told me about that."
My chest raised slowly as I inhaled a large amount of oxygen.
"It was an accident," I blurted out, afraid he'll be mad at me too and hit me.
His eyes widened. "I ain't mad, Nina. Why did you sound like I would be mad because you spilled half-warm coffee on Cynthia?"
My jaw dropped and for a moment I stood and stared at his face. He wasn't mad. Like not at all. So he wasn't going to hit me?
"I didn't mean it like that," I said faster than I intended.
He narrowed his eyebrows as I fumbled with my hands, trying to push the tension away between us.
"Sure," he said as he pulled a hand through his hair, looking back at his shop. "I need to go now. Be safe, Nina. Your brother would have wanted that."
Yeah, like that's true.
If my brother cared he wouldn't have left me with him. He would have taken me with him or stayed and protected me. He did neither.
"Thanks," I said. He flashed me a smile, before heading indoor again, half running behind his counter.
Twenty-three and owning his own shop. Impressive. Everything can happen when you live in 2017, right?
I was left in the heating sun and middle of the many students who also had convinced themselves that going to school today was a good idea. Which it never was.
As I opened the doors and smoke, drugs and bubblegum flavor hung in the air and blew past my nose.
I didn't even get to walk one step before the too familiar blonde curls stormed my way, looking anything other than friendly.
"Watson!" She roared and pushed a Freshman out of her way, not bothering apologizing.
I need to hide. Like right now.
I pulled the hod over my fragile head. People stared, burning their curios eyes into my flesh.
The tension grew, as Cynthia closed the space between us for every steep her expensive heel would take. I looked for an escape, but none. Students circled me, cheering for a fight.
I fell back as she stopped right before me.
They laughed. They all laughed, as I hit the ground beneath me. Tears were welling up in my already puffy eyes.
"How dare you?" Her hands found their way to her round hips. She leaned forward, towering over me.
My heart was hammering in my small chest, sweat formed on my forehead and my breathing got caught in my dry throat.
She is going to kill me.
"I-I" It was the first I had ever said to her and it was words of pure fear.
I covered my face with my shaky hands and crawled further away from her.
I peeked out. Voluntary and controllable the corners of her lips turned upwards into a devilish smirk. My hands smirked across my face again. This was too much.
"You are going to-"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
That's when time stopped and the whole school froze. My hands remained at the same spot. I knew that voice and it frightened me even more.
His warm hands reached me, pulling me into a warm embrace. It was like my dream, but warmer and my heart skipped more beats.
I didn't dare move. I waited for what happened next.
"Anthony?" Her voice was trembling in surprise. She hadn't seen that coming.
"Go!" A simple command, but as it left his lips, it was much more than a command. "All of you!"
Whispers. The only thing there reached my ears. The only thing I wanted to stop forever.
"What the Hell happened?"
"Did you see how he defended her?"
"I got it on video!"
"Who is she?"
There where footsteps walking past me, but I didn't look. I knew they were looking at me and I didn't want them to see my wet tears.
"Sorry," I whispered, before looking up into his green eyes.
I was trapped.
Weekly Power Status
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