The characters don't belong to me, but the story is mine. *Please notice that the story is now in it's original format. I had a difficult time uploading my story yesterday.* Thank you!
Chapter 1 Somewhere, North Carolina
I was a broken girl. That's what everyone called me, even Momma. No one ever told me I was smart or pretty. Momma told me a long time ago she wished she never had me, and that if she only had a time machine she would change it all. Momma's boyfriend, Phil, hated me too. Phil says women are only good for one thing. Sometimes I don't think Phil likes Momma very much either. I mostly kept to myself, climbing trees and reading books. I tried very hard to stay out of Momma's way, she didn't like me around but she didn't like me gone for too long either. Momma says I'm a waste of space, but that I'm "her" waste of space and that I shouldn't go around bothering people. I think she doesn't want people talking about her private affairs. Momma doesn't like me around Phil too much either, she says I'm in his way. Although, I don't mind staying away from him, there's something in the way he looks at me that frightens me to my very core. Why just this very morning as I was looking for something to eat in the kitchen, he came stumbling in reeking of spirits and mumbling under his breath about women and their no good ways. As usual he pretended I wasn't there for a few minutes, when suddenly he jerked around and fixed me with a stare so chilling I swear he was thinking about killing me. I ran for it as fast as I could, and I knew in his drunken state he wouldn't bother chasing me, but all the same I felt like the devil himself was on my heels. I ran until I came to my favorite tree, the knighting gale, I called her. I'd been hiding for all of five minutes when I heard Momma calling.
"Isabella, get your skinny ass in this here house!" she screeched at the top of her lungs.
Instantly afraid, I climbed down knighting gale as fast as my legs would allow. My long hair was caught on a branch, when Phil caught my ankle and yanked me down. I looked up into his furious face, distorted by too much drinking, waiting for the yelling to start. He pulled me up by my hair until I was looking into his beady eyes. I felt hairs being ripped from my scalp by the force of his grip, and all the while all I could see or hear was Momma.
"Haven't I told you girl, don't be runnin' from your daddy," Phil slurred.
"I'm sorry," I let out in an anguished whisper.
"Phil!" I heard Momma scream.
Rather abruptly he released me and I fell to the ground. Phil stormed back inside, the screen door slamming shut. Momma just stared at me like I was some kind of foreign animal she'd never set eyes on before. I finally stood up, suddenly feeling the urge to weep. Momma started walking towards me slowly. SLAP! I felt the back of her hand on my cheek like the scorch of a fire brand. Mercifully, I remained standing, although I felt close to fainting. My vision only went black for a second, and all that I could register was the back of Momma walking away. I stood there for what seemed to be an eternity. The urge to cry was gone, and in my soul I felt an unnatural bending that left me cold inside.
Later that night I lay in bed, the acrid smell of smoke from the bonfire, invading my room. Momma and Phil were burning my books. I had one book left, that they would never find. "Romeo and Juliet" remained safe, underneath a loose floorboard of my small and shabby room. I would will myself to sleep that night into the wilderness of my mind. I lay there making up stories in my head, all the while knowing my body was as still as a corpse. I was alone.
The next morning I awoke with a strange feeling of being watched. Momma stood in the doorway of my bedroom staring at me as if in a kind of trance. I knew she had probably consumed too many spirits and was restless because of the ghost she said had been haunting her for the past seventeen years. Even though Momma was crazy, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. All Momma ever wanted was love, I knew that. She had me, I loved her, but somehow it just wasn't enough for Momma. I gingerly climbed out bed, my body sore and my head still ringing from Phil pulling my hair out.
"Momma, you need to lie down now, you're not feeling well," I said as I reached my arms out to help her.
"Hush now child, I been up all night thinkin' bout what I'm gonna do with you. It's time you start packin' up your things," Momma slurred groggily.
"I'll be out of your way-," I started to say.
"What?! You aint goin' nowhere lil' girrrrl!" she burst out in sudden anger.
"Yes momma, your right," I agreed quickly. I knew Momma was really in her cups, so there was no use in pointing out that she had just contradicted herself.
I let out a sigh of relief when she allowed me to put her arm over my shoulder so that I could get her to bed. Momma was quite heavy, but I still managed to support some of her weight. We had made it the bed when she pushed me off of her, a look of disgust washing over her once pretty features.
"You think your so damn smart, don'cha Isabella. Well, you aint nothin'! Just a waste…of space," she whispered angrily before promptly passing out.
Momma's words hurt, but something inside of me had changed. Instead of internalizing the pain I felt I let it go somewhere else. Where it went, I don't know, but it was gone. I looked down at Momma's sleeping frame and smiled a secret smile. I almost laughed but stopped myself lest I wake Phil. They were both knocked out cold and I felt a sense of exhilaration pass through me. I knew I had at least a couple of hours before one of them woke, so I decided to make some breakfast. I went into the kitchen and searched through our meager storage of food supplies and conjured up two pieces of toast with peanut butter. I ate quickly and deliberately, intent on spending all the time I had with my book. I skipped into my room and lifted up the floor board next to my dresser, looking over my shoulder before taking out my book, "Romeo and Juliet." I tiptoed out the front door, gently closing the screen door. I ran to my tree and climbed high, settling on my usual sturdy branch. I leaned back into my leafy haven and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of peace. My mind took me back to highschool, it was only a few months ago that I had graduated. I had found a little sanctuary in my studies and had wrapped myself up into them entirely. I didn't have any friends, but there was one teacher who thought I had potential. I held on to that sometimes when I felt hopeless. I have always been thought of as an oddity, maybe because I'm poor and unusual. I didn't care anymore. In one week I would be eighteen and free. I knew I was small and insignificant, but one day soon I would escape this place. With that thought in my mind I opened up my book to my favorite page and started reading.
Juliet:
Go ask his name.—If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding-bed.
Nurse:
His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
the only son of your great enemy.
Juliet:
My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me
That I must love a loathèd enemy.