The Rockstar and the Poet

Chapter 7

After school I walked down the hallway towards the stairs. As I was walking I heard yelling, "Hey Ana. Wait up." It was Jackson. I stopped and waited for him. When he caught to me he asked, "Are we still going to the library?" I told him, "I am going to still help you with your music but not at the library. We need play the lyrics to see if we sound good."

He lifted one eyebrow up and said, "if we sound good?" I started to blush. He laughed and said, "It's okay. I like the sound of that." I started to turn really red. "Well I was thinking since one of your songs has the mood of happiness then we should go somewhere that makes you happy." I explained to him even though now I was just trying to change the conversation. "Okay. How about the park?" he wonder. "Yeah. Let's go." I said. "Okay. Just let me go and get my guitar from my locker." He said and started to run to his locker.

When he got back he said, "okay. Let's go." We walked to the park. When we got to the park we sat under an oak tree and Jackson took our his lyrics and his guitar.

I looked at my clock and it was 4:50. "oh my gosh. I'm going to be late for my curfew." I grabbed all my stuff and and stuffed it in my book bag. "Wait let me walk with." Jackson insisted. I just ran. Jackson eventually caught up with me and we started running together.

When we got to my house Jackson walked me up to my porch. "Thanks for running me home." I joke. We both got silent. We were looking deep into each other's eyes. A moment later Jackson was leaning towards me. We closed our eyes. As our lips were about to meet my dad swung the door opened.

"God damn it Ana. You are 15 minutes past curfew and instead of coming inside instead you are trying to kiss this boy." My dad yelled. "Dad, I can explained." I said. "I don't want to hear that shit Ana." He screamed. "Just listen." I yelled. My dad said, "Did you just raise your voice with me young lady. Oh, your going to get it now." He looked at Jackson and yelled, "Go!" Jackson started to walked away.

My dad grabbed my wrist and pulled inside. He pulled me to the couch. He pushed me down on the couch and said, "if you move one muscle then you'll be more of a beaten than what I'm going to do." He went upstairs to his bedroom and grabbed his leather belt.

He went back to the living room where I was still sitting and yelled, "Lay on your stomach." I did so. He grabbed my shirt and ripped it off. I wrapped my arms around my breasts the best I could. SMACK! SMACK! Went his belt on my back.

He whacked his belt on my back for an hour and he left me there. It's felt like ten thousand bees stung my back. I could barely moved. I just laid there and cried myself to sleep.