Living Again

Chapter 18

Cassie's POV:

I was in the kitchen getting ice for my shoulder when my father arrived. I had already finished cleaning the house but it was just as I suspected. He beat me up, shouting at me about something that I didn't do. Accusations were out in the open, a matter that I was innocent of.

A slap to the face.

A shove towards the kitchen counter.

Ice falling towards the floor.

His face distorted by anger.

Hair being yanked.

A cry of pain.

Face so close that I could the alcohol from his breath.

Ordered to clean up the mess.

Pushed me away from him.

Stormed away.

Left to clean up, the numbness setting in once again.

Nothing new.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was able to get a decent sleep last because my father didn't come back when he left yesterday.  My shirt was a bit damp from icing my shoulder before leaving for school.

"Good morning Cassie!" someone put an arm around me.

I flinched away.

"Oh man, sorry about that. I forgot. Your shoulder's hurt" it was Jake. He was smiling apologetically at me.

"It's fine" I mumbled.

The truth was I wasn't used to people touching me casually. It always led to a beat up.

"Anyway, how's the shoulder?" he asked.

"Better"

"What?"

"Better" I repeated, a little louder.

"Man, you have to speak up Cass. Otherwise, others wouldn't hear you" he remarked.

"What's the point? It's not like they would listen" I found myself saying that out loud.

Jake stiffened a bit. "Why would you say that?"

"Forget it" I started to walk away.

He easily caught up with me. "Why would you say that?" he asked once again.

Somehow, I felt that he would keep asking that but I don't know what to say. "I've always been alone... I don't expect people to listen" I told him, blurting out the first thing that came into my mind. Besides, I gave up being heard long ago. I've been screaming and crying out before but nobody took the time to listen, I thought.

"I'm willing to listen" I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I asked softly, disbelieved.

"Uh..well, I mean that I wouldn't mind if you talk to me...I'd listen to you. Doesn't everyone have the right to be heard? And I'm always - are you crying?!?"

I touched my cheek and I could feel the wetness of my tears. Why am I crying?

"Did I say something wrong?" he was still fussing about. I shook my head. "Does your shoulder hurt?" I shook my head once again. "Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know..." I told him. "I don't know"

~~~~~~~~~

I'm willing to listen

That phrase kept repeating itself in my head as I sat in class, taking notes absentmindedly.

Jake was so sincere when he said it. I may not be looking at him when he said that but I could feel his sincerity.

His kindness.

A single drop of tear fell from eyes.

Why am I crying again?

"Look, the freak's crying" someone whispered loudly.

"Haha! What she crying for? English too hard for her?" they giggled.

I sank lower in my seat, hanging my head.

I'm willing to listen.

What's the use? One person wouldn't make a difference. I'd still be the useless and worthless daughter that my father is so ashamed of. Besides, what can talk about with Jake? He and I are so different.

We're in two different worlds.