Outliers

Chapter 7: Deborah

Deborah's POV:

By next week, Deborah's bruises began to fade, but new ones kept errupting - and would until she left home. But she could never leave home, because she couldn't leave her mother to be the one that's taking in the hurt her father feels and gives.

At home Deborah slept, she ate, and she lived... why should she have any reason to leave besides her father? Her father shouldn't have rule over what Deborah does and doesn't do. Laying in bed, Deborah thought and thought - and let her swollen limbs rest and heal while she thought - thinking of escapes from the hands that struck her so often. Maybe she could tap into her father's alcohol, but that would only result in her own doom...

After dozing off for about 5 minutes, Deborah shot back up in bed, from a nightmare.  She felt like she was being watched, and slipped out of bed quietly to close the shutters of the window.

The window was open to display a cool, dark night. The stars were bright and the lights of the city below were dim-lit and vacated. Deborah scanned the sky with her eyes, and found the jagged line streching about that confined the black, shadowy, looming trees from the dark, brightly-lit sky holding the moon. Without closing the window, Deborah stuck her head out the window and closed her eyes, breathing. A low, fresh blow of air flew through past her, causing her hair to fly gracefully behind her. Sometimes, Deborah wished for things to be as calm as the sky she was looking at, she wished for things to go back to normal - before her father drank and her mother cried, she wished she didn't have the scars and memories of what she did, she wished that she could be good enough for her father, and wished that she could make her mother proud. Deborah wished that both of them would care for her more often, and that they would love each other in a way that was long gone.

Oh God - now she was crying. Yanking her head back in with tear stained cheeks, Deborah slammed the window shut, drew the blinds quickly and jumped back into bed. Although she wasn't in her sweatpants and a rough t-shirt and was in some tight jeans and a graphic t-shirt, she tugged the covers up over her head and tears continued to fall down her battered cheeks. Laying there in a fetal position, Deborah began to feel drowsy.

After dozing off for 5 minutes, Deborah's mind opened into a vast imagination, in which an image began. She was happily smiling and laughing with her parents, a cake with 14 candles aflame on it. It seemed her father was sober, and her mother was glowing with pride. This made Deborah smile inside, this happy, picture-perfect family.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Deborah and her parents didn't see the candles fall onto the wooden table, causing it to catch fire. Deborah wailed in despair, and her mom yanked her out of the wooden chair and back with her and Dad. Next thing that all of them knew, they were surrounded by the fire, licking its way up the walls, and lapping at the door. Deborah streaked for the door, and saw her father following. Turning her head back to scout for her mother, she didn't see her. Where was her mother?

With a hoarse, smoke laden voice, Deborah screeched for her mother. "Mom! Mom! Mo-" She was cut off, coughing racked her ribs and caused her to keel over. Deborah didn't catch a reply, and had to keep moving as she felt a fiery sting on her heels. Once she had ran down the stairwell, Deborah could only get to the basement window next to the stairwell to jump out of.

It was getting harder to breathe, she couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe... couldn't breathe. Deborah tore on the hem of her shirt, with trembling fingers, and shoved the cloth over her sore, recently bruised mouth. It was only slightly better to breath now, but her eyes were beginning to sting bad - and her overall vision was losing its edge, too.

With the same trembling fingers, Deborah put all of her energy into opening the window. Outside, it was dreary, dark and Deborah could smell the wet pavement from rain. That was good - maybe rain drops could make their way through the window and douse the fire. Heaving herself up onto and through the windowsill was even harder than opening the window with such a lack of oxygen, but she did so. Around her being halfway out, Deborah felt something of warm fingers pulling her back in. This made her problem bigger. Fingernails dug themselves into her calves and continued the powerful tugging, bringing her back in.

"No! No!" Deborah screamed, and felt a rumbling voice from inside, someone familiar.

"Get in here, you worthless, little brat!" Her dad roared, and continued yanking her back in. Deborah felt herself slipping in, the sill now tearing and rubbing at her ribs, making Deborah grimace and shriek in pain. At the same time, fingers of fire began to pull her in as well, and she lost her grip.

Falling in, Deborah struck her head on more than one occasion, and could barely keep conscious with squinted eyes. "It's all your fault, you stupid, ugly, worthless girl. You will never be loved, you will never have the love you wish your mother and I had for you." With that, Deborah's father pushed away from her, and squeezed out the window, slamming it closed behind him.

Before Deborah could get up, she felt the fire beginning to burn and nip at her skin. Deborah began to scream in agony as she caught fire, her father's words running through her head on a track. "You will never have the love you wish your mother and I had for you. You will never have the love you wish your mother and I had for you. You will never have the love you wish your mother and I had..."

Deborah shot up in bed. Her heart was racing, and she tried to catch her breath while running an alert hand through her hair. It was the nightmare she had, it made adrenaline rush through her hot veins, and made her short of breath. You will never have the love you wish your mother and I had for you. The words still rang an echo through her mind, and Deborah shut her eyes tightly, trying to keep the shards of harmful words out.

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So how did you all like it? I know, it's probably not the most peaceful chapter, but I put a lot of emotion in it.... Now, for anyone who thinks I might have mental issues about pain and depression because I wrote this book, I dont!!  Dont think I'm crazy, because im not.... that much. I still cant find any pictures... I'll probably just draw them... and then i'll post them. :D so... vote! :D