Let me start off by saying I am SO sorry that it's been so long! I know it's almost been two weeks, but I had my first full week of school and it felt like the mental equivalent of running headfirst into a wall. This chapter was also just. The hardest to write. But it's so important and I wanted to make sure it was perfect! Anyway, I hope you can accept my apology with the nearly 3k words here!
TW's for emotional/physical abuse and sexual assault, stay safe friends!
This was all routine by now. One, Two, Three, she would mentally count as she walked up the steps. One, Two, Three, she would count as she knocked on the door. One, Two, Three, she would count as she waited before hearing the lock click open and Mr. Garrett invite her in.
"Ah, Skye, good to see you. I actually just got a call from work and I have to head back out. Don't worry about food, I think we might order Chinese when Kathy and I get home, but it might be later into the evening than usual." He hurried through the door, not giving her time to respond. She nodded, even though he couldn't see her, then walked inside.
Wait, crap. The party. I was supposed to ask about the party! She threw the door open and walked back out onto the front porch, frantically hoping she could catch him in time, but he had already made it down the street before she could stop him.
Shit.
She walked back inside, shutting the door gently then locking it behind her. What now? Grant will be upset if you don't make it to the party. He's already expressed that, she worried, walking up the stairs to her room. But you can't just leave without asking, that's like begging for trouble. As she stepped into her room, she noted the laundry basket at the foot of the bed. She washed her clothes yesterday once she got home, and figured one of the Garrett's must've taken it out and set it there.
She walked over to it, noting the ripped black jeans. They would probably go nice with her yellow sweater, and that would be a nice outfit to wear to an outing, and she'd look more herself since the Garrett's aren't coming home and if they aren't coming home until late then maybe she could go to the party. As long as she's back before 8 it should be okay, right? And she could leave a note explaining herself, and she has her phone so she can always be contacted in case of emergency, so really why shouldn't she go? Besides the dish incident, the Garrett's had been nice so far, right?
She decided to put on the ripped jeans, even if I'm not going out it'd be nice to feel a little more like myself, then walked over to her nightstand where she left the sheet of paper from earlier that week. The little note listed an address and then the date (September 11th) and time (5:00 PM). Setting the paper back down, she looked at the clock, which read 3:20. She spent the next hour working on her schoolwork (which she found hard to concentrate on due to the nervous anticipation worming its way around in her gut) before eventually giving up and walking over to the mirror.
She was met with a reflection that looked more like herself than she had all week. The black jeans and combat boots contrasted against the vibrant yellow sweater. She combed through her hair with her fingers a little bit to fix it up, but it was good. Even the bruise on her face was starting to fade slightly. This was going to be okay.
She grabbed her phone off her bed and walked downstairs, finding another piece of paper to write a note explaining her absence in the slim chance that one of the Garrett's would return before she got back.
Hey Mr. and Mrs. Garrett,
I've been trying to ask all week but there's this party that one of my friends is hosting tonight. I shouldn't be out long but I just figured I'd leave this note in case one of you came back was gone. See you later for Chinese takeout!
-Skye
She left the note with the address next to it (after plugging it into her phone so she didn't get lost) just in case they were the kind of people who wanted to know exactly where she was at all times, like some of her other foster families had.
She headed out, opting to go out the half-open garage so she didn't have to unlock the front door.
The walk actually wasn't all that long, as Grant lived just outside the school, which was convenient. It meant that Skye could get home within a reasonable time if she needed to be home immediately. When she got closer, she could hear muffled music and the sound of teenagers screwing around from inside a house nearby, leading her to assume that would be her destination.
She walked up to the door, anxiety mixing with excitement as she knocked lightly, 1, 2, 3 times. The door opened, revealing Grant, who, to put it lightly, was clearly drunk off his ass.
"Eyyyyyyyyyyyy Skye!" He said, haphazardly throwing his arms up. "Glad you could make it!" he moved (or stumbled, more accurately) out of the way of the door, letting Skye inside.
Skye, who, at this point, had so many alarm bells ringing in her head. Skye, who was struggling to keep her breathing normal. Skye, who knew what alcohol could do to people. Skye, who found her feet walking through the door before she could consciously decide to turn around and go home.
Walking through the door meant instantly being bombarded by loud, trashy music in a discordant harmony with the cacophony of drunk teenagers yelling and laughing throughout, nearly reminiscent of the way a band sounds when the conductor stops them unexpectedly halfway through. She didn't recognize anyone here but Grant, which was unfortunate considering she wasn't necessarily in the mood to stick around someone who absolutely reeked of cheap beer.
She considered leaving, but convinced herself to stay. She was already here, and she wanted to be a normal teenager- besides, Grant had seemed so disappointed when she implied potentially not being able to make it. She couldn't let him down by leaving now.
So she stayed. It was for the experience, right? She had never been to a party like this. She was a high schooler. This was supposed to be the norm, right?
So what if she ended up following Grant around for the majority of the party. It was fine. She could handle this. It was only teenagers, after all. She'd be fine with Grant.
She walked with him around as he said hi to various groups of people she didn't recognize. He kept drinking from his cup that never seemed to be without some variety of alcohol. Decidedly ignoring the tension settled in her gut, she pretended to be having fun. She laughed when everyone else in the group seemed to laugh, occasionally joined conversations Grant roped her into, and kept a smile plastered to her face.
As the evening grew darker, people began to leave. That was fine by Skye, because less drunk people meant less noise, but the knot tightened in her core when she realized that the upstairs room they were currently in was now empty as three more people just left.
Expecting to be dragged into a different room with more people, she looked at Grant- but when she did, he was just staring at her. Alarm bells began going off in her head, but she ignored them. She was probably just being paranoid, she reaffirmed herself, but she couldn't ignore the way Grants eyes were sweeping over her body, leaving her feeling gross and used.
He met her eyes again, taking a step towards her, stopping uncomfortably close. She tried taking a step back, but her back hit the wall. She moved her head to look at the door, but when she looked back she found Grant's face inches away from her. She could see the hunger in his drunken eyes and needed to get out. this was bad. shit, this was bad.
She wasn't given much more time to contemplate before she could feel rough, sour-tasting lips bruising her own. She tried shoving him off, but his hand was pressed against the wall behind her, holding his weight towards her. She felt his other hand begin to sweep over her, carelessly fumbling over her body in a way that made her want to throw up. In a panic, she grabbed the hand that was against her body and twisted hard, causing him nearly to fall over in his intoxicated stumble.
She didn't waste any time in throwing open the door, running as fast as she could, not pausing to think about the consequences. She skipped stairs heading down, dodging inebriated teenagers as she ran for the front door. This was a mistake. You made a mistake. you trusted someone, and that's always been a mistake.
She threw the front door open before running out into the chilly evening air, stopping for nothing as her feet hit the pavement, leading her all the way home.
If she had been paying attention to her surroundings as opposed to trying to process what just happened, she may have noticed the extra car parked on the side of the road. But unfortunately, she did not, and walked into the house from the garage door without worrying about the Garretts.
She had walked through the kitchen and got to the base of the stairs before that lack of concern quickly dissipated, however, as she heard a stern voice ask
"Where have you been?"
She froze, blood running cold. Shit. shit. shit. you had to deal with Grant, now this? Look at what you've gotten yourself into. Why would you even THINK about going to the party? idiot. "I- uhm, well, I left a note on the counter-"
"Do not lie to me, Mary. I won't tolerate it. Not only lying, but sneaking out? I am," he paused, producing a loud sigh, "incredibly disappointed."
Skye didn't have to turn around to see that this was trouble. She didn't want to respond, or explain herself- that didn't go well last time- but she just had to explain. She had left a note. She knows she did. she made sure.
"Come here, Mary." The words were short, but she could hear the unspoken threat hidden in the tone. Slowly, she turned around, feeling her heart beat in time with her steps to the sitting room. She desperately tried to keep her breathing stable, hoping to keep her facial expression neutral- looking anxious let them know they had power over you. That was dangerous.
She found herself right in front of Mr. Garrett, who was sitting in a chair at the far end of the sitting room, holding a mug of coffee.
"We gave you a home, Mary," he began, standing up. "We gave you a room, new clothes, and a loving family. We even just bought you a phone! I am so unbelievably disappointed in you. I can't conceive what in the world could make you act this way. This is not acceptable." He finished with a sigh, and Mary could feel his gaze drilling through her skull.
"I'm so sorry, I just didn't think- uhm, I mean, I left a note-"
Skye jumped at the sound of something ceramic hitting the wall next to her. She could feel the burning coffee and shards of ceramic burst off the wall and onto her arm, burning and digging into her skin. When she tore her gaze off the remnants of the mug with horror, she was met with a version of Mr. Garrett that was radically different. Anger painted his face in a way that tied Skye's stomach in knots. The man looked unhinged in fury.
"YOU WILL NOT LIE TO ME!" his bellowing shout rammed through Skye's ears, beating out the sound of blood rushing through and her own heartbeat. She took a step back out of instinct. She had to get out of here. She had to run. She had to escape.
Taking the step back was the wrong choice.
The sharp needles of the ceramic shards pressed into her skin as Mr. Garrett grabbed her arm with a bruising grip. She winced in response, being pulled to the other side of the room.
"Do NOT leave while I am speaking to you! I will not TOLERATE your DISRESPECT!"
Skye wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. She had cried enough. She should've expected this. She should've known it would all come crashing down. That it was all some cheap fascade. She's dealt with worse. Why did this hurt so much? Because you let yourself get comfortable, her brain replied. You let yourself think that everything would be good and fine. Look at what that's earned you.
She was pulled out of her thoughts as Mr. Garrett pushed her with unexpected force, knocking her to the floor. She landed on the arm with the ceramic, pushing it deeper. She saw the white carpet staining red with her warm, crimson blood. She sat up and opened her mouth to apologize, beg for forgiveness, beg for things to go back how they were, But she felt the kick to her ribs before she saw it, breaking her hopes. It was over. Things would never go back to how they were. Get up and get out. He could kill you. You could die, Skye. Get up.
She heard him sigh, turning around to look at the coffee staining the light gray walls.
"Look at what you've made me do, Mary," he said in a quiet and unnervingly composed voice. She didn't have time to focus on his tone now, though. That could wait. Her aching ribs and mutilated arm could wait. For now, Garrett was looking away fro her, and that meant she had an out.
Everything seared with a sharp pain as she got up, but she ignored it, putting all her strength in running for the stairway to the left. Scrambling up into her room, she locked the door behind her, panicking. What do I do what do I do what do I do what do I do come on Skye you can make it out do something damn it Suddenly, she remembered the weight in her pocket. Phone. Phone! you can call someone! she fumbled while getting the phone out of her pocket, hands shaking as she could hear Mr. Garrett making his way up the staircase. she lit up the phone and tapped the first name that came up. Daniel. Daniel will work. She pressed call before trying to hit the send location button, missing a few times due to the way her hands were shaking violently.
"Hey Skye, what's up?" Daniel's nonchalant voice came through the phone, a small bubble of relief bubbling in Skye at the sound.
"Daniel? I'm in trouble- I mean, I need you to get help, I uhm. I shared my location with you and I need you to get help, I don't have time to explain but-"
Skye froze in terror as she heard one, two, three firm knocks on the door of her locked bedroom. shit. shit. shit. You need to get out. You need to run. You need to go, get out, get free, leave.
"Skye? Skye, are you okay? Skye, what's going on?" she could barely make out Daniels voice over the phone, too deafened by the blood rushing in her ears. This is bad. this is bad. you're in danger. You knew this would happen. You knew this was too good to last! But you had to play along, idiot! Now you're stuck!
"Just get help, okay? I'm really sorry to call you like this but please, Daniel, you have to-"
"Mary, I know you're in there. Open the door. Now."
Numb, icy tendrils of terror wrapped around Skye's heart, her blood pressure and heart rate rising in retaliation. He would get in somehow. It would make it worse if she didn't open the door. But if she opened the door she was dead. She checked every window, but she was on the second floor and wouldn't survive the jump without serious damage. She sprinted to the far corner of the room from the door, being able to vaguely hear Daniel's concerned voice, but she didn't have the phone wasn't against her ear.
"Shit, Daniel, I have to go- He's almost here, just- I need help, but he's coming so i've got to go" she frantically whispered, looking for somewhere to hide. Logically, she knew that there was a key. all he would have to do is get the key, turn the lock, and open the door. so she had to be hidden.
Not giving him time to respond, she pressed the end call button (even though her mind screamed at her, desperate for some medium of security) and ducked under the bed, trying to keep her breathing quiet. It felt like days as she hid in silence, uncomfortably wedged between the bed frame and the floor, but it must've only been moments before she could hear Garrett again.
"Mary. If you don't open the door, I'm going to have to come in. I'll give you to the count of three to open this door." The voice sounded unnervingly calm. He wasn't yelling, he wasn't shouting, he was talking in a stern tone at a normal volume. Skye knew that was worse than when they shouted.
Shit just open the door it'll be worse if you don't open the door it's always worse when you don't listen why would you get yourself in this situation you can't get out you're going to die this is it just open the door and maybe he'll let you explain just-
"One." she heard Mr. Garrett begin to count, muffled slightly by the door.
Skye if you don't open the door it won't be as bad just open the door you can fix this even if it won't be like before you can still have a place, a home, you won't get sent back-
"Two."
Skye it's your own fault you went to the party and now look at what that resulted in, it's not like you don't deserve this you basically snuck out and you broke their trust just open the door it'll be fine you have to open the door it's not too late you can fix it-
"Three."
There was a sickening silence that took hold over the room for a few seconds, deafening and terrible and loud. Then the door swung open.
Hopefully I'll be uploading more regularly now that this UBER important chapter is out, but it may not be daily due to school. I can promise it'll be more than once every two weeks, though! Feel free to yell at me in the reviews for taking too long getting this out or just expressing general outrage. I am sorry.
