What I Am

by Tatum O'Neill

After so much rejection from males and one true experience, a Degrassi girl begins to wonder if perhaps her distant feelings mean more than she ever expected… (violence, strong language, etc.)

7. Cruising for Bruising

Chapter Seven: Cruising for Bruising

          Manny looked up at her mother. "Yes?" she asked, the scowl still in her eyes.

          "You get in the house right now," her mother said, her voice shaking with rage.

          "Yeah, yeah," Manny said, walking past her. She stepped into the living room and immediately turned. "What's with the belt?"

          Her mother glared at her. "You need to learn a lesson, Manuela Santos," she growled, her accent growing thicker.

          "Yeah, like you're going to hit me. You never hit me," Manny scoffed.

          "Don't you make light of this!"

          Manny laughed defiantly. "Don't you make light of this," she said in a mocking tone.

          "Why, you…" Amada Santos raised her arm and smacked Manny across the face with the belt so hard it immediately peeled skin from her face. Manny fell down with the belt, bleeding and clutching her wound.

          "Mother, you—"

          Amada raised the belt again and whipped Manny with it. She began to speak rapidly in Spanish, calling Manny a slut, a disgrace, a worthless daughter. Tears stung Manny's eyes, as sharp as the wounds that were slicing across her skin.

          "Mom! Mommy!" Manny cried out, curling into a fetal position. She began to shake with each sob. "No, mommy, no," she whispered over and over.

          "Go to your room," Amada spat.

          "I-I—"

          "Now!"

          Manny leapt up as quickly as she could. She felt each bruise forming and knew she'd be sore for weeks. She limped upstairs to her room, sobs racking her body. Manny fell against the railing.

          "Leave my sight, Manuela!"

          A loud sob tore from Manny's throat, and it was over. She couldn't hold back the tears as she stumbled into her bedroom. Blood dripped from her wounds, showing that the bruises would be that much worse.

          My own mother, Manny thought. Bitterness combined with sadness combined with an unbearable ache, Manny never knew her mother could be pushed so far as to beat her.

          She fell onto her bed and bawled. Her wails couldn't cover the angry thumping of her mother downstairs, and Manny tried to keep it to a dull roar. She cried and cried until she cried herself to sleep. If she dreamed, she didn't remember it.