Part Two: Escalation
January 14
Oh, my God, are my legs ever exhausted. I wish I could just twist them off and stick them onto one of those battery chargers so that I won't have to deal with the inevitable pain in the morning. Oh, and the pain everywhere else in my body. I feel like I just got completely worked over by some mob flunky. What happened, you ask? Kristy took me sledding.
But more about that later.
Today, I met a new girl and I think that she might just end up sticking. I don't know why, most people slide off me like Teflon (I've grown very good at being a sparkling clear pan to greasy globs of gunk), but this girl stuck. The funny thing is, I'm not certain whether I ought to get something to scrub her off with or to just let her stick and see what happens. Either way, it'll be an experiment in sociology and cooking-ology.
Lauren. Her name is Lauren and she is so much taller than I am. I think, overall, she'd be prettier than me, too, if she didn't pick and poke at the pimples on her face. I mean, it's not like she covered with them like Hannah is now or anything like that, but still. She should know better. I got off lucky and have good skin that only gets the occasional pimple, but I never pick or poke or squeeze it. All that happens is that it turns into this nasty, red, sore mess that gets infected and turns into a big, gross whitehead.
Anyhow, I met Lauren because she was following me in the lunch line. Once I had finished paying for my cottage cheese, two yogurts, and fresh fruit, Lauren paid for her greasy lunch and followed close behind me once more. I sat down and she sat beside me. I started to turn on her, but she smiled quickly and started talking before I could say anything.
"Hi, I hope you don't mind that I'm sitting with you. I noticed that you tend to sit alone or with those two boys and I was wondering if I could sit with you," she said expectantly.
I shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, it's not really a big deal one way or another whether we have an extra person sitting with us at lunch. David Michael and Benny are only going to pretend to talk about cars like they actually understand how they work," I predicted, knowing my brothers well enough to have a safe prediction.
I was, of course, wrong. They stared at her like she was Death incarnate, and glanced at me. When poor Lauren got up to get some more bottled spring water, I demanded to know what the heck was wrong with them.
"First new friend I have in ages and you two losers are trying to humiliate me, aren't you," I accused them sharply.
"No, we're not!" David Michael snapped in return, looking defense. "Anyways, she's just a girl."
When Lauren came back I grabbed her arm almost dragged her to another table. "They're being jerks today, I warned them to stop, but they wouldn't. Let's just eat over here."
Later that day, I was feeling lonely, hot (Dad always cranks up the heat and Elizabeth and us kids turn it down and wrap up in a sweater.
So, about that sledding. It hurt like crazy; I don't remember hurting this much when I was a kid. I went down this monster hill because my stepsister was up top taunting and laughing at me. Not a good reason, but a reason nonetheless. Don't get me wrong, I love to play outdoors, but now sledding has been added to "No Can Do" list. I hit a snowboarding snow ramp on the way down, flew up into the air, and had the wind knocked out of me when I landed. I made Kristy drag me back to the car on my sled because I was so dazed I didn't think I could put one foot in front of the other.
January 15
Dear Diary,
Dad is letting me redecorate my bedroom! The last time I was allowed to redecorate my bedroom was when I was 11, right after the Incident. Daddy thought it would nice for me if I had a whole new set of surroundings to help me to forget and move past the Incident, as he and Elizabeth refer to it when everyone else is listening. When they're alone or when they think nobody is listening, they call it for what it really is.
I don't. I'm still scared if I do refer to it for what it is, it's going to come back. HE is going to come back and I am going to get hurt all over again.
later…
Back to my bedroom.
Right now it's painted a light lavender/pink color on the walls with a definitely lavender carpet that stretches from one wall to the other. The furniture is all white colored and very feminine. I've taken down as much of the poster and lamps and things like that as I can and have snuck them up into the attic in a box marked 'Karen's Room: Age 11.' They'll be a whole new set of boxes up there with that same label, so I should probably go and mark that box with 'Posters, Lamps, Odds'n'Ends.'
Kristy asked me what theme I'm leaning towards and I told her that I would love to have a red and black bedroom. Kristy laughed and said there was no way that Daddy and Elizabeth would let me redecorate my bedroom like that. So, I've thought about it and I've decided that I'm going to go with a green and brown themed bedroom. I have hardwood underneath my carpet, so that would go well with the earthy theme I want, granted I match the shade of brown to the hardwood properly.
Enough about my room. Even I'm getting bored of writing about it and it's my room!
So, I am on this absolutely huge historical fictional kick right now. It's scary and weird. It's like all I ever want to do is read my books and find out as much about the real people as I can while getting the pure satisfaction that comes from reading a novel. My current favorite time period is the Tudor era. Right now, I'm really obsessed with the queens of King Henry VIII, especially Anne Boleyn.
Right now I'm working on this hugely thick book that is about the six wives of Henry VIII. I'm only about halfway through the massive section on Katherine of Aragon, but that's all right. I like her a lot, too. Did you know that she was originally married to Henry's older brother, Arthur? However, Arthur died and there was a lot of confusion and intrigue (personally, diary, instead writing it all out in here like some kind of an essay, I'll refer myself to the book) and finally she was married to Henry, but it took years before baby Mary was born.
January 17
I am so… so… so infuriated right now! I just found out that my little brother is being picked on at school by the local group of bullies! Can you believe that? Who would want to pick on my sweet little brother? He's the nicest kid who'd give a friend the shirt off his back if they needed it, that's how selfless and generous he is. My step- and fosterbrother are little jerks most of the time. I mean, sure, they do the occasional sweet thing and are fiercely protective of me, but Andrew has always been my sweet, loving little brother.
I've always hated bullies, but especially more now that they're picking on my little brother. I've had some incidents with bullies that, luckily, turned out all right (mostly because we were little kids in the 1st or 2nd grade, not 8th or 9th graders). Still, I'm really worried about Andrew.
"Andrew, you have got to tell Dad and Elizabeth about these bullies," I told him as soon as I knew. We were halfway home on our walk from school to our house. Andrew stopped walking and stared at me blankly for a moment.
"How do you know about the bullies?" he asked. His hair was whipping around his face and into his eyes, but he didn't swipe it away. "Karen, how did you find out?"
"Well, I mean, I was watching you and-"
"You were spying on me!"
"No!"
"God, Karen! I can't believe you! No, wait, I can believe you'd do that." I was crushed. Andrew continued. "Anyways, never mind about those guys. They're not important."
"But, Andrew-"
"Karen, I mean it! And, don't tell Dad or Elizabeth or call Mom or tell anyone. OK?"
"All right," I agreed reluctantly, scuffing my boot in the snow.
My poor little brother. I feel so bad for him, especially since I don't know what to do for him.
I'm having that feeling again. You know. The feeling where I feel like I fading back inside myself. I've had it a few times since I last wrote about it, but I just didn't bother to write about it because it was the same old, blah thing. Now, though, it's worse. Sometimes, I swear it's as if nobody even notices me. Like I'm screaming and pounding the walls and stomping on the floor and all anyone does is look up and ask "Can you hear that?"
I know my family loves me, which why I feel so damn guilty about feeling so washed out. I should be over the hurt in my past and I should be a happy teenager. I have everything. Loving parents, plenty of money, and a huge family that loves me, too. Still, it just doesn't matter. HE must have smothered something critical out of me and now I just feel like a shadow version of myself.
I hate what HE did to me!
January 19
Andrew's arm is broken. We (me, Andrew, Kristy, her fiancée Pete, and David Michael) just got back from the hospital to have his arm set and put into a cast. Poor Andrew was trying to be all brave and everything, but when they adjusted his arm, he just started screaming and crying and begging for them to stop. He let Kristy hold him after the worst of it was done and David Michael didn't even say a thing about him being a baby for crying and stuff, which is something David Michael would usually do to Andrew since they're brothers after all. God. I feel so helpless. I don't know what to do for Andrew. I've been waiting on him, but he doesn't seem too interested in having a slave-sister, like he usually does when he gets injured and it's somehow one of our faults. Right now, he just looks gloomy and morose and I can't think of anything I can do to cheer him up.
I know who did it, of course. It was those damn bullies again. They've been picking on my little brother constantly and they even made a crack about me being a nutcase today. I hate them! Why can't they just grow up and act like normal people? Why can't they just leave my family alone? Haven't we already gone through enough without having those freakin' idiots terrorizing us? Haven't we?
Seriously, sometimes I think if there really is a God up there (Mom would be astonished to hear me say this, she's such a "good" Christian), maybe He's doing these things to us on purpose just to see what we'll do in response.
later…
Daddy's been home for only a half hour and I've been cowering in my dark bedroom with a stomachache.
See, Daddy's been yelling (which he never does) since he walked in the door about how somebody is going to pay for hurting his child. He keeps asking Andrew questions and yelling out the answers (right or wrong) before Andrew has the chance to speak. Poor Elizabeth has been trying to calm him down. She says he's raising his blood pressure, his scaring the kids, he's just making things worse for poor Andrew, but Daddy isn't listening to her.
I'm crying now. I can feel the tears on my face. I'm getting so stressed out right now. When I get stressed out like this, I'm so much more apt to have a flashback and I don't want to have a flashback! I'm going to find Benny and David Michael. They're always understanding about things like this.
January 20
I woke up with a jolt. My bedroom was still dark, so I decided to slip back into sleep instead of looking around to see what had awoken me. Moments later I felt a hand slip under my covers and close gently over my chest. A gasp escaped my mouth before a second hand clamped down over the top of it. I squinted my eyes and struggled to see who was in my room with me.
"Shh, Karen. It's only me," my stepfather's voice said softly. Seth. Something must be wrong if he's in my bedroom this late at night. Was Mom hurt? I struggled to sit upright, but his hand kept me pinned to the bed. "Settle down, honey. There's nothing to worry about."
I sighed with relief and allowed myself to relax. His hand began to move the instant I slumped limply back against my mattress. I bit my inner cheek as it traveled someplace where I didn't want it to be. I wiggled then, tugging Seth's hand from my mouth.
"What are you doing?" I asked softly, still trying to squirm away from his roaming hand. It was touching a place where I had never been touched before. "Seth, I don't like that."
"Honey, calm down. It's all right."
I clenched my teeth in fear as I felt his hand tug my underwear down around my thighs. I tried to think of something else, but nothing could block out the feel of his fingers poking and prodding. I tried to sit up again.
"Seth, that hurts." He shook his head gently. "Please! Stop it!"
Seth's hand wrapped around my throat and I began to whimper; too frightened to cry. He smiled at me and I looked down at my nightgown. It had been hiked up around my stomach and I could see his hand moving and touching. I cried out softly as I felt a finger push hard against me and squeezed my eyes shut.
"You don't want to wake your mother up. Think about what she's going to say," my stepfather said softly. "You don't want to wake her up, do you?"
The fight went out of me like the flick of a switch. What would my mother say if she knew what was happening? I slumped back weakly and Seth moves his hand from my throat to stroke through my hair.
I can't help but cry out again as the finger that had been prodding so hard suddenly forces its way inside of me. Only this time, my cry is much softer and more resigned. I knew I couldn't make anymore noise and bit down hard on my lower lip.
I wanted to go back to sleep again.
January 21
David Michael, Dad, and Elizabeth had to go to the Principal's office today, along with those nasty little thugs that have been picking on Andrew. The story that I heard about how this all went down was actually quite amazing and I am really proud of my stepbrother, even if I am, as a general rule, against violence.
Apparently, those bullies were starting to pick on poor Andrew again. He's in a cast, too, for crying out loud! I guess they started pushing him around when David Michael saw them and marched right over and demanded that they leave Andrew alone from this day forth. (OK, so they didn't talk the way I'm making them talk, but, diary, you understand the gist of what I'm trying to say.) Anyway, the little thugs didn't like what David Michael had to say and shoved Andrew into a snow mound and told D.M. to "make them." Personally, I would've helped Andrew up and gone straight to the middle school principal, but instead of doing that, David Michael hauled back and punched both of the little brats square in the mouths. I would've paid money to see that!
Then, David Michael helped Andrew up and said to the bullies "and leave my sister, Karen, alone, too." Awwww. My brother loves me!
Daddy and Elizabeth are at a loss for what to do. I overheard them discussing this whole situation in the kitchen this afternoon. I figured I'd better put down in here what I heard:
Elizabeth: What are we going to do?
Daddy: I have no idea. I know that Karen and Andrew are both thrilled now that David Michael has stood up for them. He's like their personal hero now.
Elizabeth: But, we don't want to encourage them to be hitting and punching. David Michael can't be their hero.
Daddy: Well, what are we going to do to stop the two of them from thinking he's their hero. A lobotomy?
Kristy: Cool, who's getting the lobotomy? I bet it's Sam, that horny little toad.
Elizabeth: Kristy, please, we're talking about something very important. Family things.
Kristy: Well, I'm an adult and family, too. Let me in on the discussion.
Daddy: Kristen, please leave now.
Kristy: Wow, no kidding. I'll be in my room if anyone ever wants me again.
Elizabeth: You didn't need to be so strict.
Daddy: I just don't know what to do.
(shuffling and no doubt they were hugging and maybe kissing)
Elizabeth: We'll find a way to get these kids all on the right track again, honey. I promise.
Daddy: I'm just so scared for them. Especially David Michael and Karen. He's bound to lose his temper again and who knows who'll get hurt and how badly. And my baby girl? That son of a bitch still has his claws to her throat and she's still haunted by nightmare and flashbacks.
Elizabeth: We'll find some way to fix them and get through to the true kids they are underneath all of the bad stuff.
Daddy: I hope you're right.
It's 3:45 am and I haven't slept a wink.
January 22
This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
And all the Styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again
On the radio
We heard, 'November Rain'
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
And on the radio
You hear, 'November Rain'
That solo's awful long
But it's a good refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio, on the radio
On the radio, uh oh, on the radio, uh oh
On the radio, uh oh, on the radio
"On the Radio" by Regina Spektor
January 25
My heart was beating hard inside my thin chest. We were playing Hide and Seek with our stepfather, Seth, and I didn't want to get caught first. Then, I'd have to be the next seeker and I hated having to seek. It was seriously the worst part of the game, especially since Andrew was such an amazing hider.
I tried to make my breathing even shallower when I heard Seth come into the sewing room where I was hiding. He closed the door behind him, making a show of checking behind it for one of us. I watched with wide eyes as he searched the room and finally squatted down in front of where I was hiding. Our eyes met and my heart jumped into my throat.
"Caught you, Karen," he whispered. I sighed heavily.
"Drat. I hate being the seeker," I confessed.
Seth stared at me for a long time then reached out his hand to pull me out from behind the masses of hanging fabric. I followed to where he was leading me. Seth stood up and turned towards the door. I noticed that he was locking it and immediately panic washed over me.
"Seth, not again…" I pleaded and he just smiled.
"Come here, my beautiful little princess," he replied finally and swept me into his arms. I lie limp, not wanting to encourage him in any way. It didn't matter.
He set me down on the overstuffed blue chair that Mom used to drape her nearly finished projects on. I tried to stand back up, but Seth pushed me back down, his lips suddenly on mine, hungrily trying to part them. I closed my eyes and began to whimper as his strong, big hands pressed down on my hips, hurting them. I bucked against him and he smiled.
"God, you are so sexy," he murmured and began to kiss and lick down my exposed neck. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. He caught the hem of my shirt and started to slowly pull it up over my head when a knock came at the door.
"Hello?" Mom called. "Who's in there?"
"Mom!" I called back.
"Karen, what are you doing in the sewing room? And why is the door locked? Come open it."
Seth stood and moved away from me. The crotch of his pants was tight and fuller that it was before he came in the room. I stood up quickly and adjusted my shirt. I ran to the door and opened it, overwhelming glad to see my mother. I hugged her tight before racing out of the room and down the hall.
"What's wrong with her?" I heard Mom ask Seth.
"She's just upset because I caught her first while we were playing Hide and Seek."
January 28
There's no school today. Teacher conferencing day or some lame thing like that. Lauren came by the house to say hi and hang out. I didn't invite her over, but I really don't mind having her here. It's different (and kind of better) than hanging out with my brothers and sisters all the time. I mean, the ones my age are boys and the girls are either much older or much younger than I am. It was nice to have a girl my age on my side for once.
We watched some movies, but halfway through Braveheart, Lauren took the remote and paused the movie. I looked over at her expectantly. She cleared her throat.
"I have something I want to tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself," she said. I nodded I had plenty of secrets of my own.
"No problem," I agreed.
Lauren nodded, shut her eyes and began talking:
"From as early on as I can remember, my mother and father used to fight constantly. Not even the quiet kind of arguing that I'm sure your parents do when they're upset or annoyed with one another. Real fighting. Like, screaming and shoving at one another. I used to run and hide in the coat closet while they fought. I would stuff my mother's fur coat around my head to help block out all of the noise.
"It took me years to figure out why my mother finally left. She left me and Dad because she had a new man in her life. She was going to divorce my father, she said one night, and marry this new man. Ian. That was his name. She said that Ian treated her better than Dad did and that she and Ian never fought with one another. Ever.
"Dad went ballistic and started screaming at her and calling her a whore. I was only about five then, so I wasn't sure what the words they screamed at one another meant, but I figured it out eventually. Anyways, Dad screamed and yelled and so did Mom and then suddenly there was the sound of shattering glass. I ran out of the closet to see what had happened and saw Mom sitting, dazed, under the shattered picture window in our living room. Dad was staring down at her as though it was the first time he had ever seen her. He offered her his hand and she punched it away. He looked at me.
"Get your mother up and help her leave," he said coldly and stormed into the room that was both of theirs and would change almost immediately into solely his own.
"I helped Mom, of course. I figured that I would probably be going with her. Kids and moms stick together, right? Well, not my mother. She let me carry one of her bulky suitcases down the stairs and to the car that was waiting for us. A tall man with black hair and black eyes took her luggage and packed it into the car. He looked down at me when my mother told him that this was the last of the luggage.
"You're a sport," he said and got into the car. Mom leaned down to hug and kiss me before jumping into the car beside the tall man. Without another word, the car peeled out of our driveway and Dad let me stand out there, staring in the direction they had taken, for about ten minutes before yelling at me to come back inside.
"I was six when Dad started to hit me. Just after I started kindergarten, he'd slap me for giving him sass or for looking at him funny, even. One time, he hit me so hard that I fell against the wall and broke my wrist. I had to tell a stupid story about jumping out of a swing to cover for him.
"Anyways, it wasn't until I was ten that DCFS caught whiff of what was going on at our house and pulled me out of there in a heartbeat. They also sent my dad to jail for assault and battery, since they realized that my dad was hitting me after he lost control and punched me in the face when he came to pick me up at school and I told him I failed a test.
"So, now I'm living with this nice family and it's been great. It really has. I mean, I miss my dad a lot, of course. It wasn't always shitty or horrible living with him. Still, it's nice not to have to watch my mouth all the time. I like knowing that I don't have to worry about everything I say or do in case I get hit for it.
"Karen, really. It's so much better now. You have no idea"
I wanted to tell her that I had an idea about it being better now, but still being shitty, but all I did was nod my head and smile.
January 29
Today's another day of no school. I am happy that I don't have to face my classmates quite yet. I don't know whether or not they'll make fun of my poor little brother and I guess I could just use the extra time to become ready for that possibility. Anyway, I finished all of my homework yesterday, so I'm just going to spend today bracing myself and watching movies. Not to mention playing music constantly because I can't go ten minutes at home without my IPod.
I am so depressed, even though I don't normally write about it and I wouldn't dare to say it. It's about the fading thing. I don't know if I'm depressed because I feel like I'm fading out of everyone's lives or if I'm fading because I'm depressed. I don't know which is the cause of which. Of course, does it even matter?
Sometimes, my skin even looks like it has a grayish hue to it.
Adia I do believe I failed you
Adia I know I let you down
don't you know I tried so hard
to love you in my way
it's easy let it go...
Adia I'm empty since you left me
trying to find a way to carry on
I search myself and everyone
to see where we went wrong
'cause there's no one left to finger
there's no one here to blame
there's no one left to talk to honey
and there ain't no one to buy our innocence
'cause we are born innocent
believe me Adia, we are still innocent
it's easy, we all falter
does it matter?
Adia I thought that we could make it
but I know I can't change the way you feel
I leave you with your misery
a friend who won't betray
I pull you from your tower
I take away your pain
and show you all the beauty you possess
if you'd only let yourself believe that
we are born innocent
believe me Adia, we are still innocent
it's easy, we all falter, does it matter?
believe me Adia, we are still innocent
'cause we are born innocent
Adia we are still
it's easy, we all falter ... but does it matter?
"Adia" by Sarah McLachlan