Details

Chapter 9: Do the right thing, Sang

"You never listen!" she cried. A hard kick landed on my ribs, and I clenched my teeth. Tears began to form in my eyes.

Do not scream, do not scream, do not scream.

Another kick.

Another.

Everything looked blurry as I followed her frantic pacing. My nails hurt as I fisted the short fibers of the carpet. "You horrible whore of a child!"

Her kicks hurt, her hits did too, but the wounds they caused healed over time. I knew that she didn't like me, that she was always disappointed in me, but hearing her voice it so passionately always hurt more than her physical punishments. I always tried to keep from disappointing her, but I only seemed to blunder worse as the years went by.

My mother suddenly stopped pacing and kneeled down beside me, pulling at my hair to get me to look up at her. "Are you sleeping with him?" she asked loudly, drops of spit hitting my face. She looked wild, her brown hair falling out of a bun and her blouse pulled at odd angles.

"No!" I protested, the exertion hurting my side. "I'm not! I wouldn't!" This was one area in which I could answer her honestly. From the tightening of her hand in my hair and the way she pulled back her lips, she didn't believe me.

"You're just like her!" she screamed, jumping up. Another swift kick to my ribs had me panting and groaning. I couldn't focus my eyes through the pain, so I closed them again. I tried to listen to her movements, but the ringing in my ears rendered me half deaf. I could only hope that she was done.

The air shifted and pain exploded in my bare thigh; I snapped my eyes open and screamed in both pain and surprise. My mother stood before me with a leather belt in her hand, red-faced and panting. I'd never seen her look so crazed.

She pulled her arm back and brought the belt buckle down against my thigh again. I'd seen it coming this time, but that didn't lessen the pain. Desperate, I tried to crawl away from her, but she anticipated my movement and stood with one foot on the edge of my nightgown.

"Ungrateful brat! Haven't you done enough?" she spat. Crack! I cried and curled up to cover my thigh, causing my arm to take the fourth hit. I shook my head into the carpet; there was no escaping the pain. "Who gave you the note?"

Crack! The buckle cut into my stomach.

I couldn't answer. I didn't know what answer to give her that would satisfy her. A boy? Silas? A friend of my boss' son? Would that be enough?

Crack! I felt it snap against my ribs.

Crack! The belt hit my arm.

As I turned into the carpet in a subconscious attempt to escape the pain, the buckle cut into my back. I cried helplessly.

Crack!

"Answer me! Who was it? Are you sleeping with your boss?"

Crack!

I sobbed and shook. "No! I'm not! Please stop. I didn't do—"

"Shut up!" she screamed. Crack! "Shut up!"

I stopped crying and froze, terrified of angering her more. I'd tried being silent and she still got mad; I'd answered her and she got even angrier. I had no idea what to do to make it stop.

When no hit came, I took a chance and looked up at my mother. She was breathing heavily, one hand clenching the belt, the other opening and closing at her side rhythmically, as if she was trying to get rid of a cramp in her fingers. The note lay crumpled on the floor.