It was so hot the pavement was steaming, and the little girl was sorry she had not put her shoes on before leaving the house. Jane hopped along, bare feet burning, as she tried to get to the grassy spot in the neighbor's yard.
She could still hear the screaming from the house, and she looked behind to make sure nobody had noticed her escape. She darted behind a bush, and waited for a moment before continuing on her way. Her heart was racing because she was so scared they were going to come after her.
Jane hated them. Both of them. And she knew deep down that they would be glad she was gone. All they did was yell at her, hit her, call her names.
She huddled behind the bush and cried, afraid someone would see her. She didn't like people to see her cry.
She heard voices and ducked lower as she saw Angela and her mom walking down the sidewalk. They were laughing and talking and it made her feel so sad. Her mother had never acted that way with her.
She looked down at her leg and the red welts were getting bigger. She touched one and winced. It hurt. But they would go away soon. They always did. Thank goodness her dress was long enough to cover them.
Jane stood up,smoothed the material down, and wiped the tears from her eyes, certain her face was no longer red from crying. She picked up her bookbag, which she kept beside the front door just in case she had to leave quickly, and she headed down the sidewalk toward school.
She sometimes would practice smiling along the way, just so it wouldn't seem pretend. Sometimes she would even imagine what her conversation with her teacher might be.
"How are you today, Jane?"
"I'm just fine, Ms. Reynolds. I have a new puppy, and he tries to follow me to school every day."
Whenever she prepared this way, it always made things go easier. She didn't have to be anything but happy. Nobody asked questions. Nobody got into trouble. She could make straight A's and go home like everybody else...and nobody had a clue what was waiting for her behind the doors of her house.
Nobody.
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Comments: 13
We will never have a peaceful and harmonious world until people like the parents who loom invisibly over this story are gone for ever. I believe that day will come, but I also believe that I will no longer be here to witness it.
The outlines of this story bring home an important point. This girl isn't wishing for the heat to work, or for her brother to get out of jail. She's imagining puppy's and straight A's. This child could be from any neighborhood.
As a teacher, I've had the unpleasant circumstance of a 14-year old girl confiding in me that her parents hit her. It's physically sickening. And while Rory is right, that enduring this is courageous, it is far more so to tell someone and confront it.
Excellent writing, Cheryl, as always.
Amy...This had pieces of me in it, although mine was a different kind of abuse. I worked with abused/neglected children and I could also see them in this.