Chapter 3: Burdens
Odd squinted his amber eyes, trying to see what exactly his friend was pointing at in the distance.
"That one?" He asked, looking at a house with a rather ugly green shingled roof. Zephyr thwacked him lightly, playfully on the head.
"Ugh, no, you twit! The one three houses over, with the normal roof," She laughed. The two were on the roof of the school, a place not exactly forbidden but not the coolest hangout for twelve-year-olds.
"Oh, I see it now!" Odd exclaimed. "That's where you live? That's not far at all! Only about half a city block away."
"Yeah I know. That's why I don't live here," She headed for the door that lead ultimately down to the ground, far and safe below. Odd followed.
"Is it dinner time yet?" He asked, excited on the command of his bottomless stomach. Zephyr sighed and smiled wistfully, stuffing her hands in her pockets. The day had been perfect, even after the others had gotten tired or bored or had to study and ran off. She and Odd had become fast friends about a year ago, and when she sat down next to him on her first day she'd whispered,
"Lucky we ran into each other, eh?" So she had a friend. And when you're 11 and all alone, it's the absolute worst feeling in the world. Theo and his goons had finally deserted their attempts to catch her or beat her up, now that she was part of a circle of friends.
"Yeah, I guess it is. I'd better be heading home, then." She looked down for a split second, and Odd could sense just the slightest bit of dread in her husky voice when she said "home."
"Zeph?" He asked, filled with trepidation.
"Yeah?" She had stopped and was gazing off into the golden sunset. The sun seemed to penetrate her eyes and make them translucent. He was relieved that she wasn't looking at him, because when she seriously studied a person's face it was rather unnerving.
"Can I ask you something?" He said a little quietly. She laughed.
"You just did. But, go ahead anyways." Odd's tension was eased, but he didn't want her to be angry with him.
"Are you…okay?" She looked at him and cocked her head to the side, wrinkling up her eyebrows as if confused. He continued, "Like, is there anything you're keeping from me? Anything you want -or need- to talk about?" Zephyr bit her bottom lip but then looked back up at him, smiling.
"Nope. I'm fine, trust me." She gave him a pat on the back as she finally opened the door and started down the stairs.
"Are you sure?" He called after her.
"Absolutely," She grinned, but once again her pale eyes kept her from being completely convincing.
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Zephyr walked home from school alone, just as she had for a year. But right now she was mentally slapping herself for being so stupid as to let Odd catch on that there was something wrong. Dreadfully wrong. Now she was late, because she had stayed after. She prayed and wished and hoped for her father's car to be gone, or for him to be passed out on the couch in a drunken stupor like he was three of four times a week, maybe more. She wished more than anything that her mother, Allil, was there to protect her. Zephyr had a good bit of common sense, and she knew that her mother would not magically appear to keep her from danger.
'I'm on my own now,' She thought, but then she remembered how she had Odd as her best friend. Jeremie was also kind to her, offering multiple times a day to help any one of them with an assignment. She liked how Yumi was just a little colder than the rest, not being straight out mean but reminding the others what respect was. She like how Ulrich, dark and brooding, would always step up to protect his friends, especially Yumi. Aelita was a kind soul, always bright and innocent. She couldn't help but wonder, 'What am I to them?'
Zephyr's pace had been faster than she thought while she was thinking in the gold bathed street, and she was almost directly in front of her house. Gulping when she saw her father's car, she nervously crept through the front door. Only there was no father passed out anywhere. He was towering over her, ice blue eyes glaring, boots clomping on the hardwood floor, jet black locks of hair hanging in front of his cruel, cold, desolate, bloodshot eyes, belt in hand. Zephyr winced at the sight of the whiskey bottle, sitting among its empty brethren on the kitchen table.
"You're late," He growled, tightening his vice grip on the belt.
"You said be home by seven. It's only five right now," Zephyr cowered meekly, knowing full well that even though she was perfectly innocent, she would always be flawed and guilty in his hard eyes.
"Don't you EVER talk back to me," He hissed, slapping her with the belt. Her legs begged to turn and sprint and trick her attacker just as she cockily had with Theo. But this enemy was too great, had instilled an impression of power and domination, and a feeling of fear. She smelled it on herself. She felt sick and her face burned.
"You're a useless dog," He was right in her face, whispering to her in a menacing tone, "It's your fault that your mother's dead." Zephyr's anger overpowered her.
"No, it's your fault! Don't try that guilt stuff with me." Even now she remembered, remembered the reason that they had left America…
Zephyr was almost 10 years old. She could see she mother finally fighting back. The familiar smell of whiskey burned in her nostrils. Her father had a gun, and he was drunk, wrestling with her mother. She gulped as she watched, secluded from the pair. Her beautiful mother was struggling still as her father had her in a choke hold. The next thing she heard was the metal gun barrel as it shook, forced its way into her mouth, clacking against her teeth.
"You used to love me. I used to love you." Her mother was crying, not sobbing. Silent tears rivered down her face as her father's finger was stressed against the trigger. He pulled it. Blood splattered Zephyr's face before she turned and fled outside her rural Montana home, not looking back to see what her father was doing with the corpse, the gun, and his blood stained clothing.
Jack had her up against the wall now, and hot salty tears coursing down her face, she was trembling all over, the happy day she had just had was forgotten. He was still degrading her.
"You're worthless, you piece of garbage! That's all you are and it's all you'll ever be!" He screamed.
"I'm Zephyr! My name is Zephyr! Why won't you call me Zephyr?" She asked. She wanted nothing to with him, she just wanted his recognition of her as a person. He spat on her face as he continued hitting her. He hit her with the belt, his hands, mercilessly until he needed more alcohol. She trembled as he drank, went to the couch in silence, and passed out. She stayed there, shuddering as she breathed.
Today he'd assaulted her face, shoulders, and ribcage. She was bruised and bleeding, if only slightly. She crept upstairs, collapsing on her bed and falling into a troubled sleep that was marbled with nightmares and flashbacks.
"They can't know. No one can know," She reminded herself when she thought about her friends at school. She only hoped that the battle there would be easier than the one here.