~I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh every day of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with~
~Kelly Clarkson~
Pain. Pain was a funny thing. Your body uses the sensation of physical pain to let you know something is hurting you. Physical pain at least is helpful, warning you to remove yourself from what ever is causing you to feel the pain. You touch a hot stove, the pain makes you jerk your hand back to save you. Absolutely helpful. Emotional pain, well that seems pretty pointless. Why would your body make you feel pain when feelings are hurt? Especially when you are unable to leave the situation causing the emotional agony.
Sophie was no stranger to pain of both kinds. She had been subjected to physical pain from as far back as she could really remember. That doesn't mean she doesn't have good memories, as well. She had a few perfect memories of her dad, before he killed himself. How he would pick her up and let her ride on his shoulders the entire way to the park. They laughed often. He took her to the park a lot, especially when her mother was upset. The park was their safe place.
It was emotional pain she felt first. That gut wrenching pain that blanks out your entire brain. The kind that leaves you an empty shell of who you used to be. The kind that taints all future happiness. She felt it so profoundly, it eased the physical pain into her life, making it feel almost like relief. The start of the emotional pain happened during first grade, she had come home from an autumn afternoon, expecting him to meet her at the bus stop like every other day.
He hadn't been there. She was angry that she had to walk the few blocks home by herself. She remembers stepping into their house and instantly knowing something was off inside. The smell was wrong, she could remember the wall, it was a mess. The first thought was how her mom was going to be so mad. The wall looked like someone had flung thick strawberry preserves at it. Thicker globs had run down the wall and onto the floor. The smell, though, the smell was definitely not strawberries. The air smelled tangy. It tickled her nose.
She stepped further in, moving into the small living room, towards the chair next to the messy wall. Her body froze, her eyes refusing to blink. They locked on her daddy, slouched in the chair, head tilted to the side. His eyes were open, staring ahead at nothing. The thick tangles of blood coated his hair, having dripped onto the arm of the chair. She could tell his head was not shaped right. She couldn't take her eyes away from any of it.
That was how her mother had found her, hours later. Sophie hadn't cried, her eyes were so dry, she wasn't sure if she had even blinked much. The image was burned into her brain either way. At six years old, she didn't understand the words people were throwing around; suicide and depression. These didn't mean anything. She was just sad that he had left her. Emotional pain she couldn't escape.
The overwhelming sadness filled her as they lowered the casket into the ground. There weren't many people there at the funeral. Her mom, the pastor from the church, a few of her dad's friends, and herself. She still didn't cry. She felt like she had no tears inside. Once she went home that evening, the tears finally came, letting that full feeling in her chest leave, leaving just a hallow space instead. The pain was still fresh when they moved out of the house and into a small apartment just the two of them. All of her dad's things were gone, the memories, his clothes. Her mom had even packed away his pictures. She had effectively erased him from their lives. By the time Christmas had come that year, her mom had brought home a new friend, Chuck.
Sophie didn't mind him much at first. He came by only on the weekends and never tried to act like a dad to her. He came by and spent time with her mom and then left. She could handle that. Soon, he was staying a few days during the week. By the time school let out that year, he was moved into the apartment full time and she was forgetting what her fathers face looked like.
Since she was out of school, it was Chuck's job to keep an eye on her. At first it was fine. Chuck stayed on the couch while Sophie played with her dolls, or outside on the sidewalk. He didn't really do anything but smoke his cigarettes and drink, so as long as she picked up after herself, everything was fine. She was able to make her own bologna sandwiches and pour her own milk, so he could stay watching TV.
Towards the end of the second week of summer break is when the physical pain started. Sophie was making herself lunch, and wasn't paying good enough attention. She knocked over her glass of milk. The cup hit the floor flinging milk and broken glass everywhere. Chuck had jumped up from the couch, screaming at her. Sophie was so scared she lost control of her bladder. The mess grew and he was yelling loud enough the entire place seemed to shake.
The sting across her thighs was so unexpected, tears had instantly filled her eyes, blurring her vision. The second swing caused her legs to buckle. She fell into the puddle of milk and piss, thankfully missing the glass scattered around the floor still. He grabbed her and pushed her into her room. She laid on her floor, crying, covered in milk and her own urine. When her mom got home that night, Sophie was made to clean up the mess, as her mother said horrible mean things to her. After that day, the physical pain became a regular thing.
The summer just seemed to get progressively worse form there. She didn't have to do anything to catch Chucks wrath. Her existence alone had seemed to be enough for a beating. She had tried to tell her mom, her concerns were dismissed instantly. Once her mother had told her it was all her fault. Sophie sat there, tears in her eyes, telling her mom about it all. Her mom told her if she would just be good, he wouldn't have to discipline her so much. The emotional pain caused by the realization her mother didn't care, had hurt Sophie worse than the beatings Chuck doled out.
Sophie turned seven just before school had started. She had been withdrawn in class the year before and the teachers understood. It was worse for the next year. The school blamed her slipping grades and lack of enthusiasm all on her father's death still and her lack of coping skills. She was forced to see the school counselor. She didn't dare tell them about Chuck. If her own mother didn't believe her why would this lady at the school? If her mom thought she deserved it, then she must just be bad. Maybe that was why her dad left her?
She did her school work, enough to get by with mediocre grades. She hid her bruises and she continued on. As she got older, the bruises were a lot easier to hide. Chuck was smart enough to never bruise her face. The rest were easy to hide with clothing or once she was old enough, small amounts of makeup. As she got older, she also got bolder, she had run tried to away a few times. She'd get caught, dragged back home, beaten pretty bad, repeat cycle. Through all of the pain, she had somehow made two real friends in school. Fellow abused children. The three of them could commiserate, sharing the pain helped.
The trio promised to never tell each others secret. Renee had been sexually abused from the age of six. Her mother had passed away when she was four, leaving her and her dad to get by. When she had started puberty, he had tried to rape her, but she fought back. For the last few years, he turned to physical abuse, taking his frustrations out on her with his fists instead. Jan, well Jan was completely different. She lived in the foster system. Her abuse came from fellow foster kids. They beat her relentlessly because she was smaller. She was weaker. The three of them all understood each other.
The end of high school was hard for Sophie. She wanted to finish, she wanted to graduate, maybe go to community college. Her mother was insistent she get a job. They needed the money. Sophie had laughed in her mother's face. She had the brilliant idea to tell her mother that she should force Chuck to get up and get a job. That was the first time her mother struck her across the face.
It was decided. She got her diploma, said a tearful goodbye to Renee and Jan, and at 17 Sophie was ready to go. After the slap from her mother, she had decided she would go get a job. The first week into that summer, she told her mom she found a job and was starting that next day. Her mother was happy. The following morning, after her mom left for work, Chuck was asleep on the couch, and Sophie was packing a bag. She decided on essentials only, a few changes of clothes, all of her toiletries. Once the bag was packed, she popped the stitches on the side of her favorite teddy bear and pulled out the small wad of cash. She was thankful she had the forethought to steal small amounts from her mother over the last few years.
She got up and pulled her bag over her shoulder and moved out of the room. If Chuck woke up and saw her leaving with the bag she was screwed. She tip toed out of the apartment, the faint click of the door behind her. She felt sick, her heart was beating furiously in her chest. She took off down the hallway and used the stairs do get down as fast as she could. She didn't stop until she was out in the street.
Freedom felt good. She was so excited, she almost skipped to the bus station. She spend a small chunk of her money on a bus ticket to Gotham City. She had heard from friends that it was the place to go to disappear. She went to the corner shop to buy a few snacks and waited for the bus to her new life to arrive. If she was going to get a job, she would be doing it for her and no one else. Her mother and Chuck could live happily ever after, as long as she was free.