More Than My Own Existence
Chapter 7
Two Years Later
Two years after the shooting and every now and then it still hurt. Not as much as those first three months but the pain was still there. Dr. Martin was always telling her the pain would come in waves and she wasn't wrong. Unfortunately, sometimes those waves were more like tsunami's crashing over her.
Sara had just started putting the groceries away. One of the not fun things about no longer being a minor and under the care of the State, you were responsible for shopping for your own food, and putting them away. It was convenient that her mom had taken a life insurance policy on herself. It still meant Sara had to get a real job, but there was some padding when unexpected expenses popped up. Like hitting eighteen and having to find a place of her own. She had managed to find a cute little two-bedroom house within walking distance to the U of SC and was able to talk the landlord down on the price. Not to mention the job at a local coffee shop, something she didn't think she would be able to do, but she still saw Dr. Martin once a month and she had told her it would be a good thing.
Her phone started ringing and she was little surprised to see Mrs. Stock's number pop up on the caller id. It had only been three months since she turned eighteen, but she had stayed close to Mrs. Stock and the kids at Woody Ranch. She swiped the phone off the counter on the third ring and flipped it open, yes it was a flip phone. An old Razer to be exact, no extra features, phone calls and texts only. While there was a camera, it was a POS camera, and Sara never used it. "Mrs. Stock haven't heard from you in a few months. How is everything going?"
There was a lot of back-ground noises and Sara figured Mrs. Stock was driving at least two of her wards to some appointment or event. Unlike Sara, Mrs. Stock's phone most likely had Bluetooth and she was running it through her car stereo. This was confirmed when a high-pitched voice answered, "SAAARRRAAA! Save Us." It was quickly followed by giggles.
"Kids!" This was Mrs. Stock's voice, gentle but definitely firm. "Sorry Sara, I have Mattie, Natali, and Chans in the car with me. Mattie and Nat have a choir concert while Mr. Chans… Chans! Sit on Your Bottom! Do not make me pull over!" Sara chuckled herself at that one. "Sorry, Chans has a band concert. And I have a favor."
Sara shut the fridge door and started to pull her shoes back on. There were three of the four members of the Brat Pack, which meant Alysyn was still at school. It wasn't the easiest thing to coordinate four different school schedules. So, it would be perfectly understandable for Mrs. Stock to have double booked events.
"Alysyn is at school and needs to be picked up. She's bringing a friend home to study and since I haven't gotten around to removing your name from the Pick-up List, would you be…"
"I would be happy to help," Sara interrupted, tying her shoes. "It'll give me a chance to see the Brats and catch up." She snagged her keys from the hook, "Aly still go to West JR?"
The other kids got unusually quiet and this caused Sara to stop in her tracks.
"No, we had an incident with Aly's parents. Her mom tried to pull her out of her old school and beat up a teacher when they wouldn't let her. Broke her wrist and nose. She's back in jail and Aly has been transferred to East Jackson Middle School."
Sara rubbed the bridge of her nose. This would be the fifth school Aly would be attending. "So, I'll pick up Aly and her friend. Does she still have her phone?" Another pause.
"We had to trade it in. Her father found the number and well, it was a huge issue. But I can give you her new number."
Even though Mrs. Stock couldn't see, Sara shook her head, "No it's fine. Just call the school and have the girls meet me at the office. I'll see you and the Brat Pack soon."
There were a couple screams of 'Bye Sara' right as she hung up. She let out a small chuckle, snagged the keys off the table and headed out, feeling excited to be able to see the Brats again.
On the drive to East Jackson Middle School, Sara thought back to when Aly had first come to Woody's. It had been eight months after Sara had gotten Cora Bledsoe to admit to orchestrating her mom's death, and Sara was still in a dark place. She had been angry at everyone and everything. Dr. Martin had comment that Sara seemed more withdrawn then before and was trying her best to pull Sara back from that ledge. As with a lot of things in life, fate stepped in.
Alysyn was only eight, and a little wisp of a thing. Dark brown eyes, and hair to match. She wouldn't talk to anyone and refused to look anyone in the face. There was still a fresh bandage on her head, and fresh cuts on her face. Sara leaned it where her father had thrown a half empty glass beer bottle at her. It had shattered and it was only luck the glass had not cut Aly's eye.
As was the custom at Woody, the other foster kids were there on the porch to greet the new kid. Sara had been assigned to show Aly around, because she was the oldest of them and for the first time since Sara had gotten there, Woody Ranch was almost full. There were only two rooms open for Aly to pick. But the little girl refused to give an answer when asked which one she wanted, so Sara had chosen for her.
What really got Sara to take Aly under her wing, happened a week after Aly got there. It was a Monday and only Sara and Aly were home, the other kids wouldn't be home for an hour, and it turned out, that was good thing. Aly was at the kitchen table and working on her homework, the girl still hadn't spoken more than 'thank you' and those were always spoken so softly you weren't sure she had said anything at all. Sara had finished her homework, she may have been depressed but she would not let her school work suffer. She was reading comfortably on the couch in the living room.
There was the sound of a truck engine thundering up the dirt drive, and Sara closed her book. The sound put her on edge, and she glanced to Aly, who had frozen. The sound of the truck skidding to a halt and a door being opened and then slammed shut caused Sara to get to her feet. She could see out the window and just past the porch sat a blue Ford pick-up with a greasy, bearded-haired man in the driver seat and a skinny trashy looking woman standing beside the passenger side. You didn't need to be Sherlock to know these were the Browning's, Aly's parents.
Sara turned to Aly to tell her to stay put and was surprised to find she was not at the table, but under it.
"I WANT MY DAUGHTER! ALY, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, NOW!"
Sara grabbed the portable phone and went to Aly, kneeling down and lifting the tablecloth to see under the table. The girl's knees were pulled to her chest, her face hidden by her hair and she was visibly shaking. "Aly, it's okay." She put a reassuring hand on the girl's arm. "You are not going anywhere." She handed the phone to her, "Call nine, one, one. I'll go keep them busy."
Aly looked up fear swimming in her tear-filled eyes, "No, please." She dropped the phone from her hand and reached to hold onto Sara's arm. "They'll hurt you. That's what they do."
This was the first time she had spoken more than one word. Sara smiled reassuringly, picked up the phone, dialed 911 and handed it back to the frightened girl. "Not if I hurt them first. I promise, they will not lay a hand on you."
"ALYSYN! DO NOT MAKE ME TELL YOU AGAIN!"
Sara let the tablecloth fall, blocking out Aly's protest, went to the closet and grabbed the driver from Joyce's golf bag. There was also a baseball bat, but Sara knew a golf club driver could deliver more damage per square inch than a bat. Not to mention, she could put more power behind her swing with a driver than a bat.
She opened the front door and stepped out on to the porch, keeping the club down but in full view. "You need to leave!" she yelled at the two of them. "This is private property and I know Mrs. Stock and Joyce will press charges."
Mrs. Browning sauntered up towards the porch, "You here that Kenneth? This little bitch thinks she can keep me from my baby."
"I hear," the man Kenneth called from the truck. "Kick her ass Kimmy."
Twirling the club, Sara slowly descended the steps, "I am warning you. Do not push this." She stopped still well out of reach of Kimmy.
She grinned and Sara wasn't surprised to see the woman's teeth were stained yellow. If there could be a poster couple of red neck hillbillies, these two would be on it. "I see your mama didn't teach ya to respect your elders. Guess I'll have to do it."
Sara adjusted her grip more towards the middle of the club, kept it pointed down and didn't move. She knew she needed to let this white trash make the first move. She wasn't disappointed.
Kimmy charged at her, and when she was a few feet from her two things happened. The first, Sara could smell booze and weed rolling off of her in waves. The second, Sara side stepped to the left and brought the club straight up, letting the club and Kimmy do all the work. There was a solid thunk as the end connected with Kimmy's chin. As the momentum carried Kimmy past her Sara brought the club down, the end landing perfectly in the middle of her back. She screamed out in pain and went down face first. From behind her Sara heard the truck's door opening, and without turning her back completely on Kimmy, she turned to Kenneth, pointing the club at him.
"Stop right there asshole," she warned him. "The cops have been called and unless you hillbillies want to be arrested, I suggest you tuck tail and run." She waited for their response, knowing they wouldn't just leave.
"You listen here little girl," Kenneth took a step towards her, while looking at his wife. "That is our kin in there. She belongs to us; you have no right to keep her from us."
"I have every right! You and this heifer beat her! I've seen the scars, and bruises." Sara adjusted her grip on the club, holding it towards the end. It lengthened her reach but still kept the club well out of Kenneth's reach. "You lost any right to call yourselves her 'kin' when you laid hands on her. Now get the hell out of here!"
Kenneth leered at her, "You really think you can keep me from my own flesh and blood, little girl?"
"I can and I will," she gripped the club like a bat now. "And you will be limping out of here if you don't leave."
Without warning he charged her. Sara wasn't expecting the move and just managed to turn her back and plant her feet, allowing her to absorber his impact and keeping her stance. He tried to spin her around, but she managed to hook her foot around his legs and trip him. This unfortunately caused her to go down with him, but since she was expecting it, she managed roll away from him, keeping the golf club tucked to her. By then Kimmy had gotten to her feet and again tried to take her by surprise.
"That's enough!" she shouted as she brought the club into Kimmy's stomach, causing her to double over in pain, then turned to Kenneth and brought it down on his back. She stepped to the side and swung as hard as she could into his side. There was an audible crack and he howled in pain. She turned to Kimmy and repeated the move, taking her in the left shoulder. The woman grabbed her arm and fell beside her husband wailing louder than him.
Sara was about to threaten them again, but at that moment she heard the gravel crunching down the drive and looked up to see two police cruisers, lights flashing, barreling down the driveway. Her brain was telling her to drop the golf club so the cops would not see her as the threatening one, but her instincts wouldn't let her. She watched two officers exit the first cruiser cautiously.
"Everything alright, Ms.?"
She started to shake her head, when she heard her name being called from the porch, "Sara?"
The cops and the Browning's were completely forgotten when Sara looked up and saw Aly standing inside the screen door, the phone clutched so tightly in her little hands, her face and knuckles had turned an alarming white. Sara dropped the club, bolted towards the little girl. She wrapped the girl in a huge hug and could hear her still sobbing.
"Mrs. Stock is going to make me leave. I don't wanna go."
Sara pulled away and looked Aly in the eyes, "You're not going anywhere, and I'll kick anyone's ass who tries to take you."
That was two years ago, and Sara wished she could say she had to fight like hell to keep Aly there but there had been no fight. Mr. and Mrs. Browning had been arrested for trespassing, and Mrs. Joyce was more than happy to keep Aly there. Plus having someone to look after and protect had pulled Sara back from that dark ledge she had been standing on for the last eight months.
