Peggy rubbed foundation around her left eye. It was black and blue. She should have known not to get in the way, but she jumped in before she could control herself. Now she had to try to hide the mark.
She remembered what happened. She had come home from skating practice to find her parents arguing. She could tell that her father had been drinking again. Just at that moment, he had said something really mean to her mother and she had jumped in to try to defend her. Then he got angry and ...
Peggy couldn't think about it any more. It made her too mad. How come every time he said he was going to get sober, he always went back on his word? Why did it always happen? Every time he did something bad, he would always apologize afterwards, but it was getting to the point where his apologies didn't mean anything anymore.
"Peggy," her mother called from downstairs, "you'd better hurry up, or you'll miss the bus."
Peggy stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror. Her left eye still looked swollen, but at least it wasn't black and blue anymore.
She exited the bathroom and went down the stairs, grabbing her backpack as she went out the door.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy stepped onto the large, yellow bus and scanned for a place to sit. Elizabeth, her best friend had saved her a seat. She walked over to the empty seat and sat down.
After a moment of silence, Elizabeth looked at Peggy and asked, "What happened to your eye?"
Elizabeth had always been the observant one, but right about now, Peggy wished that no one could see the evidence of her dysfunctional family, but at the same time, she wished that she could yell at the top of her lungs so someone would notice. She swallowed and said nothing.
Elizabeth sighed, "Did he hit you again?" This had happened before; quite a few times.
Peggy kept her attention focused on the seat in front of her.
"Peggy, you can't just keep on living like this," Elizabeth said, obviously very worried.
"I know," Peggy said softly, "but what am I supposed to do?"
Peggy had a point. Elizabeth knew that something should be done, but she also knew that if she was in Peggy's place, she would also be afraid to do something. Elizabeth found herself asking the same question as Peggy. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to just sit there while all of this was happening to Peggy? She looked over to her best friend of six years. It hurt her to see her like this.
There was no conversation the rest of the ride to school. Peggy was lost in her own thoughts and Elizabeth was in the awkward position of wanting to do something, but not knowing what to do.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy was trying to concentrate on her school work, but she was getting nowhere.
The first problem was the assignment: an essay on her favorite family moment. That would have to be when the whole family went out camping and we were sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows and making smores. Every time she would try to think about it, she would get a tear in her eye, which she would have to fight back so it wouldn't escape and smear the foundation around her eye. The last thing she wanted today was to let *anyone* see her black eye.
Her second problem was everything that was on her mind. She had an ice skating performance that Saturday that she had to work on, not to mention her homework.
She *did* have to finish writing this essay. It was due by the end of the hour and she only had one paragraph.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"But I love him," Peggy said to Elizabeth. They had decided to spend recess inside today. "and I know that when he's sober, he loves me, too. I just ..." she paused a second, "I don't want to lose that side of him, the father that's in there somewhere."
"Is it really worth it?" Elizabeth brought up something that had been torturing Peggy for a long time, "Is it worth going through the pain?"
Peggy already knew the answer. She knew that it wasn't worth it. She knew that if she let this go on, it would only get worse. Those moments when he seemed like a true father would only become fewer and more spread apart.
"You're right, Elizabeth," Peggy stammered, "it's not worth it."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy fell down on the ice for the fifth time in her routine. She quickly got up and went straight into the final spin. When she finished and looked up at her instructor, she saw that there was a very serious look on his face.
"I know what I did wrong. I lost my balance. I can fix it." Peggy said, but she knew that wasn't was he was worried about.
"Is something wrong, Peggy?"
"No, I'm fine," Peggy forced herself to smile, "I just need to warm up, that's all."
"Peggy," he said bluntly, "it usually doesn't take a half-hour for you to warm up."
Peggy opened her mouth to protest.
"You should probably take the rest of the session off and come back tomorrow when you're feeling better."
Peggy sighed, "All right," She skated off the rink and sat down on a bench to unlace her skates.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"And then I got my spelling test back and I got an A+!" Peggy's brother Benjamin said excitedly at the dinner table.
"That's great, honey!" Mom said encouragingly.
Benjamin bantered on about all of the things that had happened to him at school that day, with a few words of encouragement form Mom. Everyone else was silent. The tension was almost unbearable. Peggy felt as if she was about to snap, but she didn't want anything like that to happen around her brother.
Peggy picked at her spaghetti. It was now cold, and she still hadn't eaten a bite.
"May I be excused?" she asked almost inaudibly.
"But you haven't eaten anything," her mother said worriedly.
"I'm not hungry," Peggy stammered. She just wanted to get away. She wanted to run up to her room, throw herself on her bed and let herself cry.
"All right," she conceded with a worried look on her face.
Peggy picked up her dishes, brought them to her seat, and went out of the kitchen up the stairs to her bedroom.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lay face down on her bed. She had cried all of the tears that would come and her pillow was now soaked. Her left eye was throbbing and each time she tried to wipe the tears away, it stung.
Exhausted, she plunged into a fitful sleep.
She found herself in her living room as an eight-year-old doodling in a notebook. All of the sudden, she heard the front door open, then slam shut.
"Angela!" she heard his father yell from the doorway, his speech slurred, "Where are you?"
Her mother, who was sitting on a chair across the room said, "Go up to your bedroom, Peggy,"
"But Mom," Peggy protested, only to be given a stern, but slightly scared look from her mother. She obediently walked toward the stairs, but stopped half way up. Curiosity got the best of her.
From her spot on the stairs, she heard snippets of conversation that quickly turned into an argument.
"I am not going to pay for your problem anymore, Martin," her mother yelled, "you don't know what it's doing to our children."
"Angela,"
"No, listen to me, Martin!" her voice elevated, "Do you know how hard it is to explain to an eight-year-old that her father's a drunk?"
Peggy couldn't listen to this anymore. She went up the stairs to her room and flung herself onto her bed.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lifted her head from her pillow, which was still slightly damp. She looked at her clock. It was 10:36.
From downstairs, she could hear her parents. She usually didn't do anything about it. She would just plug her ears and force herself to sleep, but tonight, it was different. She was sick and tired of this. It needed to change.
With this resolution, she pushed herself off of her bed and went downstairs.
"Stop it!" she said to her parents, who turned toward her.
"Stay out of this, Peggy," her father said, "it doesn't concern you."
"It doesn't concern me?" Peggy asked, fighting back tears, "I am the one who has to stand by and watch when you come home drunk. I am the one who has to put up with your fighting and your abuse. I ..." she broke down crying, but fought to gain her speech back, "This does concern me just as much as it concerns both of you!" she finished.
Her mother went over to Peggy and held her, stroking her black curls. "It's okay Peggy," she said comfortingly. Then, turning toward her husband, she said, "Martin, I ... I want you to leave."
It was silent in the room, except for Peggy's sobs. After about a minute, her father said in a hushed voice, "Angela, I --"
"No!" mother yelled, "No more excuses, Martin! I can't take them anymore!"
There was another long silence. Finally, he said, "All right, I'll leave,"
Peggy was in shock. Even when things had been at their worst, she had never though that it would come down to this. Would she ever see him again?
"You should try to get some sleep, Peggy," mother suggested.
Peggy nodded.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lay down in her bed, looking out her window. From where she was, the moon was in full sight and shining brightly. Next to it, there was a particularly bright star.
She had the sudden urge to wish on it. Of course, she was way too old to believe in that. She decided it would be more practical to make a promise, and she knew exactly what it was going to be.
"I promise," she whispered, "that whoever I marry will be a good man, and that I will do everything in my power to not let this happen to me again."
As juvenile as it was, it made her feel better, and she was able to fall asleep.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Martin Henderson walked into her daughter's bedroom for probably the last time. He saw the moonlight shining on her face. She was beautiful. He could also plainly see the mark that he himself had left. What had he done to her?
He realized that it was probably best that he left before he did something worse.
"Good-bye, Peggy," he whispered, "I'm sorry."
She remembered what happened. She had come home from skating practice to find her parents arguing. She could tell that her father had been drinking again. Just at that moment, he had said something really mean to her mother and she had jumped in to try to defend her. Then he got angry and ...
Peggy couldn't think about it any more. It made her too mad. How come every time he said he was going to get sober, he always went back on his word? Why did it always happen? Every time he did something bad, he would always apologize afterwards, but it was getting to the point where his apologies didn't mean anything anymore.
"Peggy," her mother called from downstairs, "you'd better hurry up, or you'll miss the bus."
Peggy stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror. Her left eye still looked swollen, but at least it wasn't black and blue anymore.
She exited the bathroom and went down the stairs, grabbing her backpack as she went out the door.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy stepped onto the large, yellow bus and scanned for a place to sit. Elizabeth, her best friend had saved her a seat. She walked over to the empty seat and sat down.
After a moment of silence, Elizabeth looked at Peggy and asked, "What happened to your eye?"
Elizabeth had always been the observant one, but right about now, Peggy wished that no one could see the evidence of her dysfunctional family, but at the same time, she wished that she could yell at the top of her lungs so someone would notice. She swallowed and said nothing.
Elizabeth sighed, "Did he hit you again?" This had happened before; quite a few times.
Peggy kept her attention focused on the seat in front of her.
"Peggy, you can't just keep on living like this," Elizabeth said, obviously very worried.
"I know," Peggy said softly, "but what am I supposed to do?"
Peggy had a point. Elizabeth knew that something should be done, but she also knew that if she was in Peggy's place, she would also be afraid to do something. Elizabeth found herself asking the same question as Peggy. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to just sit there while all of this was happening to Peggy? She looked over to her best friend of six years. It hurt her to see her like this.
There was no conversation the rest of the ride to school. Peggy was lost in her own thoughts and Elizabeth was in the awkward position of wanting to do something, but not knowing what to do.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy was trying to concentrate on her school work, but she was getting nowhere.
The first problem was the assignment: an essay on her favorite family moment. That would have to be when the whole family went out camping and we were sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows and making smores. Every time she would try to think about it, she would get a tear in her eye, which she would have to fight back so it wouldn't escape and smear the foundation around her eye. The last thing she wanted today was to let *anyone* see her black eye.
Her second problem was everything that was on her mind. She had an ice skating performance that Saturday that she had to work on, not to mention her homework.
She *did* have to finish writing this essay. It was due by the end of the hour and she only had one paragraph.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"But I love him," Peggy said to Elizabeth. They had decided to spend recess inside today. "and I know that when he's sober, he loves me, too. I just ..." she paused a second, "I don't want to lose that side of him, the father that's in there somewhere."
"Is it really worth it?" Elizabeth brought up something that had been torturing Peggy for a long time, "Is it worth going through the pain?"
Peggy already knew the answer. She knew that it wasn't worth it. She knew that if she let this go on, it would only get worse. Those moments when he seemed like a true father would only become fewer and more spread apart.
"You're right, Elizabeth," Peggy stammered, "it's not worth it."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy fell down on the ice for the fifth time in her routine. She quickly got up and went straight into the final spin. When she finished and looked up at her instructor, she saw that there was a very serious look on his face.
"I know what I did wrong. I lost my balance. I can fix it." Peggy said, but she knew that wasn't was he was worried about.
"Is something wrong, Peggy?"
"No, I'm fine," Peggy forced herself to smile, "I just need to warm up, that's all."
"Peggy," he said bluntly, "it usually doesn't take a half-hour for you to warm up."
Peggy opened her mouth to protest.
"You should probably take the rest of the session off and come back tomorrow when you're feeling better."
Peggy sighed, "All right," She skated off the rink and sat down on a bench to unlace her skates.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"And then I got my spelling test back and I got an A+!" Peggy's brother Benjamin said excitedly at the dinner table.
"That's great, honey!" Mom said encouragingly.
Benjamin bantered on about all of the things that had happened to him at school that day, with a few words of encouragement form Mom. Everyone else was silent. The tension was almost unbearable. Peggy felt as if she was about to snap, but she didn't want anything like that to happen around her brother.
Peggy picked at her spaghetti. It was now cold, and she still hadn't eaten a bite.
"May I be excused?" she asked almost inaudibly.
"But you haven't eaten anything," her mother said worriedly.
"I'm not hungry," Peggy stammered. She just wanted to get away. She wanted to run up to her room, throw herself on her bed and let herself cry.
"All right," she conceded with a worried look on her face.
Peggy picked up her dishes, brought them to her seat, and went out of the kitchen up the stairs to her bedroom.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lay face down on her bed. She had cried all of the tears that would come and her pillow was now soaked. Her left eye was throbbing and each time she tried to wipe the tears away, it stung.
Exhausted, she plunged into a fitful sleep.
She found herself in her living room as an eight-year-old doodling in a notebook. All of the sudden, she heard the front door open, then slam shut.
"Angela!" she heard his father yell from the doorway, his speech slurred, "Where are you?"
Her mother, who was sitting on a chair across the room said, "Go up to your bedroom, Peggy,"
"But Mom," Peggy protested, only to be given a stern, but slightly scared look from her mother. She obediently walked toward the stairs, but stopped half way up. Curiosity got the best of her.
From her spot on the stairs, she heard snippets of conversation that quickly turned into an argument.
"I am not going to pay for your problem anymore, Martin," her mother yelled, "you don't know what it's doing to our children."
"Angela,"
"No, listen to me, Martin!" her voice elevated, "Do you know how hard it is to explain to an eight-year-old that her father's a drunk?"
Peggy couldn't listen to this anymore. She went up the stairs to her room and flung herself onto her bed.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lifted her head from her pillow, which was still slightly damp. She looked at her clock. It was 10:36.
From downstairs, she could hear her parents. She usually didn't do anything about it. She would just plug her ears and force herself to sleep, but tonight, it was different. She was sick and tired of this. It needed to change.
With this resolution, she pushed herself off of her bed and went downstairs.
"Stop it!" she said to her parents, who turned toward her.
"Stay out of this, Peggy," her father said, "it doesn't concern you."
"It doesn't concern me?" Peggy asked, fighting back tears, "I am the one who has to stand by and watch when you come home drunk. I am the one who has to put up with your fighting and your abuse. I ..." she broke down crying, but fought to gain her speech back, "This does concern me just as much as it concerns both of you!" she finished.
Her mother went over to Peggy and held her, stroking her black curls. "It's okay Peggy," she said comfortingly. Then, turning toward her husband, she said, "Martin, I ... I want you to leave."
It was silent in the room, except for Peggy's sobs. After about a minute, her father said in a hushed voice, "Angela, I --"
"No!" mother yelled, "No more excuses, Martin! I can't take them anymore!"
There was another long silence. Finally, he said, "All right, I'll leave,"
Peggy was in shock. Even when things had been at their worst, she had never though that it would come down to this. Would she ever see him again?
"You should try to get some sleep, Peggy," mother suggested.
Peggy nodded.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy lay down in her bed, looking out her window. From where she was, the moon was in full sight and shining brightly. Next to it, there was a particularly bright star.
She had the sudden urge to wish on it. Of course, she was way too old to believe in that. She decided it would be more practical to make a promise, and she knew exactly what it was going to be.
"I promise," she whispered, "that whoever I marry will be a good man, and that I will do everything in my power to not let this happen to me again."
As juvenile as it was, it made her feel better, and she was able to fall asleep.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Martin Henderson walked into her daughter's bedroom for probably the last time. He saw the moonlight shining on her face. She was beautiful. He could also plainly see the mark that he himself had left. What had he done to her?
He realized that it was probably best that he left before he did something worse.
"Good-bye, Peggy," he whispered, "I'm sorry."