Chapter Four
To my surprise, she didn't hesitate when I stepped back. She followed me inside, looking around. I blushed a little at how messy the place must have seemed to her. Before I could apologize for the state of the place, she spoke up.
"Are you here by yourself?" She asked curiously. Her tone light, conversational.
"Not really." I replied, "My mom is here. She just hasn't felt very good the last couple of.. Well, years." I sat down with a calming sigh, pulling on my shoes sitting in front of me. She gave me a look, and continued to look around, "And Jack is at work."
"Jack is..?"
"My stepdad." I mumbled, unable to keep the sound of bitterness from my voice. I sniffled as I tied my shoes. Concentrating on that instead of the embarrassment of Alice having to stand in a house not fit for someone like her. I spoke again, "Besides, I don't think it'd be too bad if I was here alone. I practically am anyway."
"I was just wondering." She laughed a little, easing me slightly.
I sighed, "Nah. It's not me being alone you have to worry about." It was when Jack was home that my life was hell. With him gone, I didn't care so much.
She didn't reply to that, watching me. In front of me, on the coffee table, the cigarette still burned. Catching my attention with its wispy smoke, curling toward the ceiling. I couldn't just leave it like I wanted to. Nervously, I looked up at Alice. Hoping she didn't tell Edward about it. I looked down briefly before picking it up, and putting it out.
I stood up, shouldering my mostly empty backpack. Other than a few old graded test papers, and one beat up old notebook with most of the pages missing, I didn't have much in it.
"Just one second." I mumbled, heading for the kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator, void of anything but beer, it was a sight I was used to. I reached in and grabbed one, doing a quick count of how many were left.
I didn't look, but I felt Alice's eyes following me as I came back through the living room, a single brown glass bottle in my hand. I slowly stepped into the master bedroom. Walking around the king sized bed against the nearest wall, and setting the bottle on the table beside where my mom laid. She was half awake, half asleep it looked like. Just waking up enough for another beer.
"I'm leaving now, mom." I told her quietly, knowing not to be loud, "There are eight more in the fridge. I'll tell Jack you're getting low."
"Thanks, baby." She mumbled, and I pursed my lips. Not quite a smile, but a half-assed depressing attempt at one. The truth was, I might not have liked her much, but it did hurt me to see her like this.
"Do you need anything else before I go?" I asked, and she sighed. I didn't miss the dark circles under her eyes or how pale her skin was. I knew I was watching her die, but there wasn't anything I could do to change her decisions. If I refused to bring her any more, she'd just get them herself. Possibly hurting herself in the process, and then Jack would find out. He'd find out, and beat me for being inconsiderate.
It made me sad to think she'd rather slowly kill herself than stay sober for an hour. Like she couldn't even stand the sight of me.
"Anything to eat?" She asked sleepily, and I sighed. Shaking my head. At least she was talking to me now. I wondered how long that'd last.
"There isn't anything to eat here." I replied, the same answer I'd given her a hundred times before, "There never is. I can.." I sighed, shrugging a little, "I don't know. Bring you the phone, so you can call Jack? He'll bring you something." He wouldn't bring shit if I asked for it, and he'd probably beat me for asking. Any excuse he could find to begin his favorite sport.
"This is fine, baby." She mumbled, pushing herself up slightly. Just enough to open the bottle. I hated the sound of the cap coming off. It irritated me to no end. Grated on my nerves like broken glass. Probably leaving me figuratively bleeding a little more each time.
"Okay." I sighed, "I have to go now, mom." I knew better than to try to talk her out of drinking instead of eating. That was what she did. That was all she did. Only Jack could force her to eat when she went too long. She listened to him, but most of the time, she thought eating took too much awake time to bother. I never tried to force her to eat. I just knew it'd piss me off in the end, so I didn't try.
"Yeah." She mumbled after a few heavy drinks from the bottle.
"Don't drink too much today, mom." I told her, fixing her blanket a little, "I mean it."
"I won't." Was her usual reply, "I promise." Right.
With that, I sighed and looked down.
I turned without waiting for her to make excuses, or promise anything else. I glanced back, watching her reach out and place the now half gone bottle of beer back on the table. Laying back down heavily. Shaking my head as I stepped back around the bed, headed for the door.
I looked down, closing my eyes. Fighting back the emotion yet again. It never did me any good to cry about her. Although I couldn't help it sometimes. There was so much I wanted to blame her for, and I actually did blame her, but she didn't even know it. She didn't even care. She had to know how much I needed her, but she chose never to see it.
Opening my eyes, and looking forward again, I jumped a little at Alice standing there in the doorway, looking at the scene with an unexplainable expression. I forced a tiny, sad smile before continuing on. Passing her. Closing the bedroom door behind myself, I sighed again.
She didn't say anything about what she'd just seen. Much to my intense relief, but I had to say one thing.
"That's my mom." I murmured, glancing up at her before looking back down.
I headed for the door. I chose not to try to explain, either. I wasn't mad at her for being curious and looking in. The truth was, I was embarrassed. I was humiliated at the way my mom was, and embarrassed for the fact that Alice had to see that, but I didn't have a chance to dwell on that for too long.
I never locked the front door when I left the house, and today was no different. If anyone were to come by to try to rob the place, they could have whatever they wanted. The house was a shithole anyway with nothing of any real value in it. Jack himself said that, and I didn't disagree.
Someone might get twenty bucks from the TV at a pawn shop. If they looked hard enough for a place that'd take the old piece of crap, and I wouldn't miss it. I never watched it. Other than that, they'd be hardpressed to find anything worth selling. I just wanted to be here if someone did break in, so I could tell them to take the bitch in the bedroom too.
Back to the issue at hand, I was scared, and I was sure it showed as I crossed the soggy, overgrown yard with Alice to the shiny black car sitting running in the driveway. I could almost see myself with how smooth the paint was. I'd never seen anything like it. The tint on the windows was so dark, it was hard to see anything at all inside it.
I hesitated, looking up at Alice in my surprise as she pulled open the front passenger door for me.
I thought I'd get the back. The back seat would have been acceptable. Further away from her dad, I'd counted on that safety. Sitting up front with him was not only more difficult when it came to dropping me off, but to me, it seemed borderline cruel. Testing my nerves in a way I wasn't used to.
"It's okay." She said, giving me a confident smile again. I didn't protest out loud, knowing what that usually got me. So I took a breath, and slowly climbed in. Already trembling. I noticed him sitting there, out of the corner of my eye, and I chose to sit as far away on the seat as I could.
I jumped, startled at the door closing quietly beside me. My heart had to have been beating a million miles a minute as I settled in the seat. Squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to steel myself. I whimpered almost silently as I listened to the back passenger door opening.
I did my best, but the truth was, I was scared. I couldn't help that.
Alice quickly climbed into the back seat, and I looked back at her. Though I was thankful she seemed to hurry getting into the car as well, she seemed so far away back there. Wondering if there was some reason for this arrangement, I watched her for a moment.
I kept my eyes down once I turned forward, nervously biting my lip.
"Leandra," Alice said, "This is Carlisle. My dad." I hardly glanced to him sitting there, unable to look for very long. Never meeting his eyes.
"N-Nice to meet you." I mumbled quietly, hating the tremble in my tone. Great, I thought. Now he knew I was afraid. I felt so stupid, and even more nervous at the same time. Would that have offended him? What if he hated me now?
"You as well." Carlisle's quiet voice seemed too soft to be afraid of. Kind, but also slightly concerned. There was no mistaking that voice. Nobody else in the world could have made their voice sound like his did.
That's what grabbed my attention, and my cooperation. Hearing that had me glancing up again. This time, I actually looked. In one short glance, I saw him.
Just like with Alice, and with Edward, part of me recognized him. My nervous expression slowly eased, and curiosity took its place. Something about this man seemed so familiar, like I'd met him before. Had I dreamed about him too? Meeting him for the first time, it was very hard to tell.
Alice watched silently from the back, smiling a little. A little smug. It seemed odd, but I didn't ask as I glanced to her.
After a moment or two, I forced myself to look away from him. I looked to Alice one more time, before looking back down. I didn't want to sound crazy. So I tried not to let on that I knew him too. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him glance to Alice as well.
I kept my eyes out the window as we got moving, my thoughts already racing. I sat in a very insecure posture, one arm hugging my desperately empty stomach. The other rested on the armrest on the door, quietly nibbling on my thumbnail. A seemingly permanent crease in my brow as I struggled to make some sense of this.
This was hard, but it wasn't near as hard as I thought it would be.
The trip was relatively short. A few minutes, like I had known it'd be, and the entire trip was spent in silence. I found it a little weird that I didn't have to tell him anything about where the school was.
He knew right where to turn, and right where the drop-off area was. The drop-off area was a little hard to find for those that hadn't been here before, since some drunk driver took out the sign the year before. They never bothered to replace it.
I shook that off, though. He probably lived in this area before.
I sat there for a moment, sighing quietly as we arrived. I glanced back over at Carlisle, to see him glance to me.
"Thank you." I murmured, "For giving me a ride."
"You're quite welcome, Leandra." He replied, and hearing his voice again only intensified the familiar feeling. It was the weirdest feeling to me, and I had to look at him again. Something about him told me I was alright. I was okay. It could have been the sense of knowing him, or it could have been just the way he was. I couldn't tell, but I definitely didn't mind it.
It took me a moment to realize that the feeling I felt was safety. The same, very same feeling of safety I'd had during the dream, and one of the only things I recalled clearly. I wanted to figure this out. Suddenly very deeply curious.
After just a few seconds to wonder about that, I forced myself to climb out of the car. Alice climbed out as well, smiling.
"See?" She said, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Not at all." I mumbled, shocked. She gave me a quick, gentle hug, which I returned this time.
"Here." I looked up as she stepped away. Surprised as she shed her jacket, and held it out to me. My thoughts instantly raced. Surprised yet again at the gesture, just as much as I had been the day before. I nearly moved away from it, almost afraid of the fabric.
"I-I can't.." I shook my head a little. If I got caught wearing that, I'd be so screwed. Jack would immediately think I stole it, and he'd be so mad.
"It's okay." She said, "Take it. It's pretty cold out today."
"R-Really.." I murmured, "I can't. It's yours."
"I'll get it back from you when we pick you up this afternoon." She assured me. Well, that didn't seem so bad. With a solution, I didn't feel so bad.
"I'll see you again?" I asked, hesitantly hopeful.
"This guarantees it." She smiled, gesturing to the jacket. That made up my mind, and I reached up, taking it from her.
"Thank you." I finally said, pulling it on.
It was big on me, but that was easily fixed by rolling the sleeves a few times. She didn't even seem to mind letting me borrow her jacket. Pulling my hair out of it, and fixing it gently, all with a small smile on her face. I definitely wasn't used to being treated so kindly. Looking up at her the whole time.
I wasn't used to this. I was used to being someone's problem. She acted like this wasn't an inconvenience in the slightest. Like I wasn't worthless or just something to step around. She treated me like something worth talking to, which confused the living hell out of me.
She nodded, giving me another hug. With that, I turned, slowly heading toward the building. I looked back at her, still quite confused. I wished I knew why I'd dream about her, but so far, I didn't mind the fact that I had.
True to her word, she and Carlisle were there once school let out. I couldn't help feeling surprised again. I'd denied myself the chance to hope all day, knowing I'd just disappoint myself when they weren't here, but they were here.
I made my way toward the car I scanned the parking lot for, smiling a little as I did so.
"Who did you steal that from, Leandra?" I cringed at Rachel's voice behind me before I could reach the car, "You should probably give it back, since it costs more than your house."
Thankfully, that was all she said to me as she passed me. The two friends she had with her giggled obnoxiously. I watched after her, deciding not to reply.
Why couldn't Rachel just leave me alone? Interestingly enough, she didn't say a word about my mom. Anything else was fine to poke at, but she chose not to mention her. Probably for her own safety.
Looking to the car again, I noticed Alice had climbed from the car during my distraction.
"I've avoided her as much as I could all day." I mumbled as I reached her, "She must have taken all day to come up with that one." I looked back at where Rachel was bidding her friends goodbye for the day.
"I could talk to her for you." Alice offered, and I shook my head a little.
"No thanks. You'd be better off talking to a gorilla at the zoo." I replied, "It would listen better." She smiled, finding that amusing. I sighed, looking back up at her as I removed the jacket. Hating to do so because of how warm it was, but I handed it back to her.
"I took good care of it." I assured her, "Don't worry."
"I'm not worried." She smiled a little.
"Can you not take me all the way to the house?" I asked, hesitating a little, "Just.. Drop me where no one can see?"
"Why not?" She asked, frowning a little in confusion.
"Because.." I looked down, "Jack will be there. Tuesdays and Wednesdays he gets off work early."
"And he wouldn't approve of you getting a ride home?" Alice asked, and I looked down.
"Uh.." I murmured, "Well, no. Not really. I usually walk everyday." She sighed, looking into the car at Carlisle.
I was less hesitant to accept the front passenger seat this time. I wasn't nearly as nervous as I had been before, but I still avoided looking at him. I honestly didn't know what to think, and that made me nervous.
However, before we'd even left the parking lot, I was asked yet another hard question.
"Leandra, is Jack the reason you don't like to talk about home?" I was suddenly very fascinated with a wrinkle in my jeans. Biting my lip and smoothing out the wrinkle. She waited, "Leandra?"
I didn't know what to say to that. If I said no, then she'd continue asking. Maybe ask if my mom was the reason. If I said yes, then she'd ask why.
"Yes." I finally answered quietly, "I hate him."
I waited for her to continue on that path of questioning. To my surprise, however, she only nodded. Not asking why, not inquiring any further. With my nerves eased by that, I sighed.
"I hope I didn't get you into any trouble yesterday." I looked back at her, "I called yesterday, hoping to talk to you." So it had been her to call. I hadn't even considered that.
"Jack told me someone called, but I didn't know who it was." I admitted. That didn't seem so bad to admit, but just considering what punishment I got for it had me looking down, biting my lip again. I hated thinking about that.
"Edward said you were pretty upset when you left the school." Alice just kept going.
"I was." I allowed quietly, "I didn't want to cry in front of Rachel, so I left the class. The teacher called Jack to take me home."
"He seemed pretty irritated when I called." She prompted, leaning forward. Why was she still so interested in Jack? As far as I was concerned, he was the least fascinating person on the planet. Someone best avoided.
"That's just how Jack is." I murmured, looking out the window, "He's always that way. You'd have to meet him to get it."
I was desperate to change the subject. I needed to talk about something else besides how irritated Jack always was. I didn't want Alice to think I was easy to get answers from. That would be the opposite of helpful.
"Why did you call?" I asked, curious, "Nobody ever worries about me."
"I wanted to make sure you were okay." She answered. She smiled a little, before it faded, "Are you?"
I bit back what I really wanted to say. Avoiding answering. The way she asked that told me she really wanted to know the answer to that. I didn't know how to answer her honestly.
"How did you know where I lived?" I asked instead, "Or the number to call?"
She smiled sheepishly, "Edward's pretty good at getting information." The way she admitted that seemed like it happened all the time. Like it was normal to stalk someone.
"So he knows I lied." I sighed, looking down, "I'm sorry about that."
"He understands." She said, "Can't just go around telling strangers where you live, right?"
"Right." I agreed quietly, sighing again. My stomach rumbled painfully, and I absentmindedly reached up to rub it. I bit back a whimper, remembering the lunch I never got to have.
Rachel had been especially ruthless today, considering how I had to be sent home early the day before. I couldn't escape her snickering giggles during class, but I could choose whether or not to endure them during lunch. I'd rather have avoided her than have something to eat that was never enough anyway. Even if I couldn't completely get through the day without having to hear her irritating voice.
"Hungry?" Alice asked, and I looked to her.
"You heard that?"
"It wasn't hard to hear." She replied softly, and I accepted that with a sigh, "Don't you ever eat?"
"No." I mumbled, my tone suggesting I was done talking about it. I sighed, sitting back in the seat. I turned my eyes out the window again, closing my eyes for a few seconds. Hating my life.
I felt the car pull to a stop and opened my eyes again. Carlisle had stopped up the road. Not far, but far enough to stay hidden from view of the house. I didn't even have to tell him where to stop, much to my surprise and appreciation.
"Thank you." I murmured gratefully, and he gave me a small nod. I wondered if I should bother to hope that I'd ever see them again. I wanted to hope. I really did.
Reaching down, I gripped the strap of my bag with trembling hands. I stepped out, already dreading the coming few hours. I stood there for a second, busy mentally preparing myself. Trying to steel myself, but it never worked.
Alice climbed out as well, and at first, I was nervous. Looking up at her, I hoped she didn't offer the jacket again. I couldn't take it this time. Until a new worry came up.
What if she decided she wanted to walk me to the door? Glancing back in the direction of the house, I knew Jack wouldn't be able to see us where we were, but I wasn't in the clear yet.
"We'll pick you up again tomorrow." Alice offered, and I looked to her again. I couldn't help the small smile. I nodded, letting her know that was acceptable. Gratefully acceptable. It was weird, so weird allowing myself to believe her.
Already looking forward to the next day, I hesitantly returned the hug she gave me, letting her hold on longer this time. I wasn't used to hugs, or contact without pain. I normally refused to allow contact with other people, just for that reason. This was entirely new to me.
"See you in the morning." She told me, and I nodded again. Did this mean she wasn't going to walk with me?
Despite that worry, I didn't want to let go. Not to go through that small group of trees to the house. Not to go to Jack. I took a deep breath, and stepped back. This was difficult. How I already strongly preferred her and Carlisle's company over home. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was actually moving.
A fat raindrop landing on my shoulder told me it was time to go, so I sighed heavily, giving her a forced smile.
"Thank you again." I mumbled, and she smiled.
"You're welcome." She said, "Better get used to it." She meant about the jacket. Reluctantly, I nodded.
"Bye." I murmured. She responded quietly, and I forced myself to turn, walking away.
"Oh." She called after me, and I paused to look back, "And don't worry. Everything's going to be fine." It seemed a little odd that she told me that.
"What do you mean?" I asked hesitantly.
"Don't worry." She repeated, and I stayed standing there for a few seconds. What did she mean? Don't worry about what? "Everything's going to be okay."
She offered a small smile, and that reminded me to move. I still didn't quite get it, but it was nice to hear nonetheless. Still confused, I nodded slightly before I turned. Moving again for the house.
Taking a breath, I whispered, "I really hope you're right."
To my relief, she didn't follow. Even though I knew she still stood there, she didn't follow. Stumbling through the trees. Stepping over foliage and sliding a little down the tiny ridge toward the house, I eventually broke out into the yard, just a few feet from the driveway, where Jack's truck sat.
I kept my eyes down as I stepped up onto the porch. I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath to steel myself, and pushed open the front door. To my surprise, he wasn't standing there waiting for me. He must have been in the bedroom with mom.
I laid my bag beside the couch and sighed. I had a few seconds, at least, of peace before it all started. I was going to use those seconds wisely. Crossing the room, toward my bedroom to get out of these clothes so they wouldn't get ruined later.
Alice's words to me didn't make any sense. What she said had deeply confused me, until I shook my head. Waving it off. There's no way she could possibly be telling me the truth.
She had probably just observed how tense I'd been all day. Anyone with eyes could see that. So she chose to tell me the only thing she could to try to make me feel better. She just didn't understand how badly I wanted to believe those words.
I'd just gotten out of my jeans, when Jack called for me.
"Leandra." I paused at Jack's call from the master bedroom. I sighed heavily, laying my half folded jeans on the bed, and turned. My seconds of peace were up.
I left my room, crossed the living room to the master bedroom door.
The first thing I noticed in the room, directly to the right of the open bedroom door, was the wide open closet door. That was out of place.
Jack sat on the side of the bed, seeming pretty stressed. Without me even having to do anything, which was weird. He sat there, leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees. Looking to the closet again, I noticed a lot of the clothes were missing. Before I could look too closely, though, he spoke up.
"Bring me a beer."
Jack never overdid it. I didn't have to worry about him drinking too much. I half wished he'd drink as much as mom did, enough to make him pass out, but he never did. No. Everything he did was his own doing.
I gave him a nod, turning and leaving the room again.
Returning, I kept my eyes down as I held it out for him, jumping with a gasp as his hand snapped out and gripped my wrist. Sitting up straighter, he pulled me closer. I stumbled just a bit at the unexpected tug, but stayed upright.
It always made me nervous to come into their room anyway. I hated it. Maybe it was because it was where he always went when he wasn't terrorizing me? I didn't know. I just knew I hated this room, and tried to avoid it at all costs when he was home.
He sighed, his hand still on my wrist as he looked up at me. He didn't say anything at first. When he did, it just confused me.
"Do you know why I do what I do?" He asked, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to answer. Did he want me to be honest? Or should I lie? "Answer me honestly."
Honestly? I had no idea why he did what he did. Did he want me to repeat what he always told me? Was this some sort of pop quiz?
"Do you?" He insisted, so I just shook my head. He smirked a little, "Do you wish I'd stop?" Again, I didn't know how to answer. Be honest, get more. Lie, possibly piss him off? I stayed quiet, briefly dropping my gaze down. I knew better than to answer that one honestly.
After a moment, he sighed again.
"Come here a minute." He tugged me around, sitting me down beside him, "Here. Open this for me." His sharp tone was him being nice. There was a huge difference between his nice sharp tone, and his pissed off sharp tone.
He let me go, reaching over as I struggled with the top to the beer bottle. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes, he shook one out, before glancing to me and shaking out another one. He knew I smoked.
I eventually had to use the fabric of my shirt to help me twist off the cap of the beer. It was hurting my hand otherwise.
He lit both cigarettes, offering one to me. I traded him the beer for the cigarette, taking it gratefully. I was surprised that he was being so nice to me, but I knew it wouldn't last.
"Sit up here." He barked, patting the bed near the headboard, "I want to talk to you." I turned over. Holding the cigarette in my lips, I flipped over and crawled painfully up to sit beside him. I hadn't sat in their bed in so long. The most I came in to do was drop off a beer or change the sheets sometimes.
I had very vague memories of coming in to sit with mom when I was younger, but those could have just been a dream. Their bed was actually pretty comfortable compared to mine. Of course, concrete would have been more comfortable than mine.
My bed was cold. The entire thing made of rusting metal, with only springs holding the mattress up. The damn thing bounced with every movement, and the springs weren't exactly silent.
I liked their bed. Theirs didn't make noise, and for the briefest of seconds, I just wanted to lay down. Just to see what it felt like. That quickly changed half a second later when I remembered Jack was beside me.
Looking down at where my right hand rested on the mattress, I realized something. The one thing I managed to focus on besides the fact that Jack was being civil to me, was that my mom wasn't there. I must have been more distracted than I thought if I didn't notice that immediately.
She wasn't laying on the other side of the bed where I'd left her this morning. That confused me, as did the still half full bottle of beer I'd brought her. Normally that would have been gone minutes later.
Maybe she was on the couch? But I didn't remember seeing her when I laid my bag down. The bathroom door was open across the room, meaning she wasn't in there. There weren't any other places she would be. Where was she?
"Do you know why I do what I do?" He asked again after a minute, taking my attention again, and I shook my head once more.
"No." I answered quietly.
"Because I can." He replied, and I looked up, "For one," He continued, reaching for the ashtray, "Your mom is in no condition to stop me, and that's her own fault. I was the one stuck raising you, and I intended to do it right. I was the one stuck with you."
I stayed quiet. This wasn't news to me. I knew this. He'd told me this before.
"Two," He continued, "You deserve it. If you would just stop fucking up, I wouldn't have to. Understand?" I nodded. This wasn't news either, "You just fuck up so damn much, I have no other choice."
"I don't mean to." I mumbled, and he looked to me.
"I know." He said, "I know you don't, but that's my job. To beat the hell out of you until you learn."
Feeling a little braver, I had to ask.
"Why do you hurt me at night?" I asked, my voice almost silent. He looked to me again, and I had to look down briefly. His gaze made me nervous.
His eyes were expressive. They were the most expressive part of his whole face. I could see everything in his eyes. When he was pissed, they hardened. Like two dark ice-blue colored stones, watching my every move with an intensity I had yet to see any other time. It was that look that made me run.
When he wasn't pissed, when he was okay, they lost that stone-like trait, and became more like pools of water. A depth to them to match, and something I'd never understand.
I briefly wondered if my eyes did things like that, or if that was just him.
His eyes this time, however, gave nothing away about how he was feeling. Which was probably what made me so nervous. I just couldn't tell.
What he did when he came in at night was something we never spoke about during the day. Never. That was an unspoken rule that we both followed. Not even when it first started, which I remembered perfectly. Not even for him to brag, or me to ask any questions. It was just something that happened. Something that kept happening, and neither one of us wanted to mention it.
I'd just mentioned it, and for a second, I worried I'd just killed his generous mood.
"Well," He said, and I was surprised for a second that he was about to answer me. He readjusted his hold on the bottle in his hands, probably thinking hard.
"I know what that does to you. I know you hate it." He eventually answered, his tone holding an almost silent tense chuckle, "I know what it does to you, every time it happens."
I looked down. I was quickly beginning to realize why I avoided mentioning it before. It reminded me. During the day, it was easier to pretend it didn't have to happen, and by refusing to mention it, I hid from it. Mentioning it now, and actually hearing him talk about it, made me feel just as sick as I felt at night. I was quickly beginning to regret asking.
He continued, "What good is beating the hell out of you if you have time to recover at night? Everything I do to you has a purpose, bitch. You don't even know yet what it's doing to you. I like the idea that every time, I ruin your life a little more."
I wasn't sure how my life could be any more ruined at that point. His answer wasn't the answer I wanted, but it was the one I half-way expected.
"But, look." He said, "I've decided to make more of an effort with you." Effort? Had he not already been putting enough effort into me?
I was confused. He seemed uncomfortable. He wasn't even looking at me as he continued, "Thursday, we're going on a trip, so be ready tomorrow to get some clothes." I nodded immediately, but even more confused. Going somewhere? Getting me clothes? What the hell was going on?
"I think all this bullshit with the school and people calling just means we need to get out of town for a little while." He grumbled, "What do you say?"
I really didn't want to go anywhere with him, but I couldn't tell him that. I would rather have stayed right where I was, but I just nodded again.
"Is mom going?" I asked quietly, looking up at him. I hoped that one question didn't piss him off, but unfortunately, it did. It was difficult to slap me from where he sat, but somehow, he managed to.
"No." He answered sharply, "She's not." It could have been so much worse, and I knew that. I was just thankful he stopped at one, open-handed slap across my head and face.
I desperately wanted to ask where she was, but I knew it would be stupid to ask. I whimpered, but otherwise, stayed quiet. Sniffling a little, I kept my eyes down. I didn't need another one of those.
"Now, as I was saying." He said, "We're leaving on Thursday. Don't ask any questions, and we'll be alright." I nodded immediately. He was quiet for a moment.
"And don't ask about that again." He commanded, his tone quieter, and I looked down.
"Which thing?" I asked.
"You know what I'm talking about." He replied, "I mean it." I knew. I did know what he was talking about, and I couldn't blame him. If he was as uncomfortable about it as I was, though, why did he have to keep doing it?
I had more questions, and I really wanted to ask them, but I didn't. Knowing that pressing him for answers would only come back to bite me in the ass. I looked up at him, and he kept his gaze on the cigarette in his hand. He seemed hesitant, but too tense.
I was quiet, trying to understand what I'd ever done to him. I wondered what it'd be like to be on his good side for once. All I ever wanted was for him to treat me like something worth even caring about. Just a little bit.
I wasn't asking for everything in the world, but he was the only one I had to look up to. My mom was hardly worth looking at at all, much less looking up to. Considering she was never upright. Jack was all I had. All I wanted was for him to give me some sort of hint that I wasn't wasting my time by looking up to him.
"What?" He suddenly barked, knowing I was still looking at him. I gasped, turning my eyes down once more.
"Sorry."
I finished smoking sitting there beside him.
"Go to bed." He told me, "You're staying home from school tomorrow, but I want your ass up early. Got it?" It was far too early for bed, but he clearly wanted me out of his room. I was used to that.
I climbed over his leg to get off the bed, sighing as I came to stand in the doorway. I had to know. I should have learned earlier what asking questions I didn't want the answer to did, but I couldn't help it.
"Where's mom?" I asked quietly, "Jack, where is she?" He looked to me, and his eyes were stone again. I'd pissed him off, and for a second, I had to fight the urge to run, but I realized he hadn't hit me yet.
"Why do you always have to ask a million questions?" He demanded, "She's not here. That's all you need to know."
"Did she leave?" I whimpered, "She left?"
He sighed, clenching his fists. I knew he was trying, which was surprising to me. He was making an effort not to hit me, but I couldn't help taking a step back. I was tensed, waiting for the moment when he stood up, and I'd have to run.
"She left." Jack told me, answering me after a moment. It took me a second to understand.
"She left?" I repeated. I couldn't believe it. My voice reflected that, and I was sure the look in my eyes did as well.
"Apparently, her brother came by and picked her up. This morning." Jack answered, standing as I took another step back, "Now, again, go to bed. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day."
"Okay." The way I said it had me instantly kicking myself. It was quite sassy, but defensive. The truth was, this news had hit me hard, but he could hit me harder. Which he did.
The sudden slap to the side of my head had me toppling over, hitting the floor. I sat there, stunned for a second. I definitely have to learn to stop pissing him off. I would think I'd have learned that with six years of practice, but so far, I hadn't quite gotten it down. Apparently.
He waited until I managed to pick myself up off the floor to speak again.
"Drop the attitude." I looked down, "Get out."
My mom had been my one fruitless hope in this hell. The fact that she'd just leave me behind hurt. It proved that what Jack had told me all these years, about her not wanting me, was true. She just dropped me, and left.
His voice was one I hadn't heard before. Almost sad, like mom leaving had bothered him. I nodded, instantly turning doing as he told me to do.
I had my own sadness and shock to get through.
I opened my bedroom door, stepped in, and closed it. Leaning against the door, I started to cry. I knew it. I could feel it, that now that she was gone, things would get so much worse around here.
He'd have free reign, freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted. Not that he didn't have that before, but there had always been this hesitancy hanging around before. A worry, that maybe, she'd wake up sober enough to see what was happening.
That was gone.
I was stuck here. Alone, with him. How could she just abandon me? Just leave me here? If she was getting out, why couldn't I? I dealt with way more things than she did, and she still felt she had the right to get out when I didn't?
I didn't see Jack for the rest of the day. He stayed in the bedroom, probably trying to come to terms with it just as much as I was. I wasn't used to being left alone. Allowed to get my clothes washed by hand in the bathtub without being bothered, and that normally took quite a bit of time.
I kneeled there beside the tub, trying to warm my freezing cold hands on my legs. Thinking. It was just so hard to believe. Never, in the last six years, had she ever let on that she wanted to leave. I didn't even know she had a brother.
As I kneeled there, thinking, my thoughts crept slowly toward other scenarios. She wasn't here, that was clear. Had Jack done something? Had he hurt her? Lost his temper with her, and gone too far?
I didn't want to ask him about it, and possibly get myself into the same spot. It just really didn't sit right with me. How suddenly, she could just be gone.
Unfortunately, there he was that night.
Without the light, he seemed angrier now. Without the light, he was going back on what he told me earlier. About trying. Unless he was trying, and if so, I should have been grateful it wasn't worse. Where he would tolerate my struggles before, now it was unacceptable. One particular open handed slap left my ears ringing, and my lip swollen where I'd accidentally bitten the inside of it.
Thinking about other things, hoping he'd just leave me there. I thought about where he'd possibly be taking me, and I thought about what would happen if we were there too long. What if Alice forgot about me? What if we were gone for too long, and I missed my chance to find out why I would ever dream about her?
I made myself hold on. To keep myself from giving up.
However, the following morning, I knew my limit was coming up. I hadn't eaten in five days now, and it was harder to find energy to hide everything. My darkened eye, in particular. I cried while doing so. Kneeling on the sink to see closer, I made sure to cover it the best I could with concealer. My hands trembling.
There wasn't much I could do about my swollen lip. Even if I tried covering it, anyone would be able to see it was swollen. It wasn't hard to see.
My stomach snarled desperately, and I cried along with it. I was getting into the painful days of not eating. The whole time was painful, but not like the later days. I knew better than to ask Jack for some food, however. That would just make sure he didn't feed me for awhile longer. Just because I had the nerve to ask.
Again, I couldn't help thinking. Kneeling there on the sink, facing my own reflection. What about me? My mom may have forgotten about me, but I haven't. I just wanted something different. I was getting so tired of having to lie, to explain away the things he did to me. I was tired of taking the blame, and somehow making it okay.
I was so tired of somehow pulling off miracles, and staying right in the situation I was in.
I stopped those thoughts in their tracks. It wasn't fair, but it's just how it was. No matter what my dreams told me, that would never change. So what if Alice was real? So what if I'd dreamed about her? So what? Was getting my hopes up, and being disappointed yet again worth it?
I wasn't so sure. Normally, I'd tell myself no. It wasn't worth it, but now, I wasn't sure. Was that feeling, the feeling I'd woken up remembering, worth fighting for or pursuing? Did it really matter? It did matter to me, but what did the fact that it mattered to me matter? That didn't matter.
I looked down, away from my own eyes, and I sighed. Confusing myself seemed too easy these days.
I'd have to hurry if I wanted to keep him from getting upset with me. Thunder rumbled above us, drowning out the sound of my next heavy sigh. I climbed off the counter, turning to look out toward the dark living room.
Jack was getting ready himself in just the next room.
I didn't know where he was taking me, but I hoped it was to get something better than just the rejects from the thrift store. I didn't mind either way. Something new to me was new enough.
Jack wasn't poor. Not by any means. He could afford just about anything in the world he wanted, but he chose to keep the bare minimum in the house, and put the rest away. Which included keeping me in the bare minimum. Now that I was fully his, I wondered if things would actually get better.
I knew better than to hope. That was a depressing thought, anyway. Fully his, I scoffed. It seemed like my whole life, I was being tossed around between people that didn't want me. My mom to my dad, my dad back to my mom. My mom to Jack, and my mom split.
It was much too early for me to be awake, as normally Jack had already left for work by the time I even woke up, so I was pretty worn out. Hurting and sore, and I knew the cold of the morning would only make that worse. Dawn had just come, and school didn't start for another two hours.
Pausing to look me over before we left the house, Jack's hand gripped my chin and turned my face upwards. Looking me over.
"Good job." He allowed, a hint of surprise in his voice, "Do you always cover it this good?" I nodded to his question.
Releasing my chin, he gripped my shoulder and steered me out the door.
It was raining in the lightening yard, so I shielded my head the best I could with my arms as I waited for him to unlock the truck. Once he did, I scrambled up as quickly as I was able to, shutting the door behind me. Shivering slightly.
I turned, knowing the drill. Climbing over the center console, I landed in the backseat with a quiet grunt of discomfort. The backseat of his truck was a flat, hard bench. Very little to no padding, whatsoever. Back here, it was easier to hide me. He hated to be seen with me, and I was never exactly thrilled to be seen with him.
"I don't go in until nine." Jack told me, starting the truck, "But you'll be staying home, so I'll drop your ass off back here. You better be here when I get back, or you'll be sorry." We got going, leaving the porch light on behind us. I was particularly moody this morning, and I surprised myself by having to bite back a retort. I already was sorry.
"Okay." I agreed quietly, "Where would I go?" He only chuckled in response to that, knowing as well as I did that I wouldn't have anywhere else to go, "I'm not stupid."
"Yes you are." He laughed incredulously, "Where would you get that idea?" I didn't answer, sighing as I looked out the window, "What? Suddenly someone calls asking for you, and you think you deserve better? Uh-uh." I watched him shake his head out of the corner of my eye, "Don't flatter yourself, you stupid little bitch."
"You're the one telling me you're making more of an effort." That one couldn't be stopped.
What the hell was wrong with me? Since when did I ever, ever talk back? Not only just now, but earlier. And before then? I had to keep my eyes down, and I had to keep my replies to myself. That's what I did. I didn't talk back, and I didn't challenge him. Why was I challenging him? Why was I talking back to him?
He caught that, pulling over onto the grassy side of the path. Spinning in his seat, he reached back and caught my face in his hand with a tension I knew was controlled. Despite knowing it was controlled, it still hurt. Badly. Pulling me forward, his glare was enough to send ice through my veins.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled instantly, squeezing my eyes shut.
"Let's get one thing straight right now, cunt." He growled, "I am making more of an effort, so you'll quit your bitching." I whimpered as he shook me a little.
He continued through clenched teeth, inches from my face, "What I do to you is our business. Nobody else's. Get it?" I hesitated, only whimpering as I attempted to pry his hand loose. That never worked, so I don't know why I tried it now. When I didn't answer, he slapped me repeatedly against the side of my head, "Huh? Do you get that, or do I have to repeat myself?"
"Yes." I answered, flinching at each slap.
"Good." He pulled me even closer, and I had to kneel on the edge of the seat to keep from falling, "Because if I ever have to tell you that again, things will be much worse for you. You remember the box?" I instantly recalled what he was talking about.
Two years before, I'd broken something, and I knew then that I was in for it.
Outside the house, out the back door closer to the trees, there was a small, wooden box. Not a shed, but more like a chest. The lid flipped up, and inside was a small space for small tools, and on the lid, was a latch for a lock. The box was far from waterproof, and the damp earth under it smelled horribly of mold.
The small space was supposed to be used for tools. Not seven-year-olds.
I was beaten, and dropped in that box for three days and nights straight for what I'd done. By the time he let me out, I was sobbing so loud, I was sure the neighbor up the road could hear me. When he finally let me out, he only laughed, and told me that he'd forgotten all about me. That I was lucky I didn't starve to death out there.
"Remember?" He prompted again, and my wide eyes turned pleading.
I nodded in his hand, "You don't want that again, do you?" I shook my head as much as I could, letting out a sob, "No. You don't. So cut the shit, or I'll make sure you never see the light of day again." I knew I had to have done something huge if he used that threat again.
I didn't know what to say to that.
"Drop the attitude, bitch." He continued, "I don't know where you picked it up from, but that shit isn't going to fly here."
"Yes, sir." I mumbled, unable to clearly talk. His grip was really starting to hurt.
"You're going to sit down, shut the fuck up, and if I hear another word out of you, it's right back into that box." He paused, glaring into my eyes, "And if anyone ever shows the slightest bit of interest in you again, you'll disappear. I'm not playing around anymore, Leandra. I don't care who the hell it was on the phone the other day. You make them forget your name, or so help me, you'll regret the day you were born."
He didn't wait for me to agree.
With a shove, I was sent back into the backseat. My welts and bruises exploded in pain as I landed, but I didn't dare make a sound. I just scrambled upright, curling into an upright ball on the seat. He turned forward again, satisfied with my changed tune. Or lack of one.
That was it for the conversation.
A/N: Isn't Jack just the nicest person you've ever 'met'?
Less added to this one, but I'm not too worried. The bigger addition is coming in the next chapter. If you've read the original, you'll see what I mean.
Aaand... OMG! THANK YOU!~!~! To those amazing individuals who shared their thoughts with me! It's very, very encouraging! You have no idea how appreciated it is. :D
Chapter five is finished, but I'd like a chance to make sure everything's in place, especially toward the addition. I won't be able to do much of that for the next couple of days, but rest assured I'll be thinking on it the entire time until I can get at it. I'm particularly excited about that, but just a heads up. It's pretty long compared to these first few chapters. I'm pretty confident at this point, though, that not many people mind that. ;)
Until Five, my beautiful readers! :D