Chapter Seven
My phone rings loudly, pulling me out of my dreamless sleep. My eyes feel heavy and gritty, dry tears making my eyes sore and I rub them quickly, yawning.
I search for it beside me, fingers grasping the sheets until I touch something cold. I flip it open with a sigh.
"Hello?" I yawn.
"Hi." I sit up in bed, wide awake and alert the second I hear her voice.
"Cheryl?" It's barely a whisper that escapes my lips. And I can almost hear her smiling on the other end of the line.
"Yeah. I just wanted to check up on you..."
"I-I'm okay." I say simply, sighing. Wait until I tell her that I got suspended from school-
Sh*t. I was supposed to get Cindy alone to sign the paper...
I take a deep breath, not wanting to get upset over Cindy being hurt by Robert. Cheryl chuckles lightly.
"Good...that's good. Look, I was thinking maybe you and I could-"
"KID! GET IN HERE AND CLEAN THE KITCHEN!" His voice is loud, demanding. And I think the reason he doesn't call me by my name is cause he can't remember it. I grit my teeth, pushing down my anger.
"In a second!" I shout, moving the phone away from my mouth.
"RIGHT NOW!" He roars loudly. I hear a glass smash and I wince, my heart racing. There I go again, antagonizing him like a fcuking idiot...
"Kimberley? What's going on-" Cheryl says anxiously, and I quickly put the phone back to my ear.
"Cheryl, I have to go, sorry." I hastily hang up on her and get up, rushing into the kitchen.
I've barely taken a step into the living room when he charges at me and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing tightly. He shoves me against the wall and I can feel my ribs burn as soon as they make contact. I cry out, but it gets caught in my throat. I can feel the oxygen cutting off from my lungs and I gasp for air, clawing at his hands anxiously.
"When I tell you what to do and when to do it, what are you supposed to do?" He snarls, his face inches away from mine. His breath is putrid, alcohol mixed with smoke and something else disgusting. I can feel bile rising in my closed throat, and I'm genuinely fearful he will kill me right here and now.
"Come straight away." I choke out.
"Exactly!" He hisses. He lets me go and I almost drop to my knees, coughing and spluttering like a mad woman. My heart feels like it's about to explode out of my chest and I stand with shaking knees, taking in a shuddering breath.
I look up just as he pulls his fist back, about to hit me square in the face.
And on natural instinct, I duck.
He howls in pain as his fist makes contact with the wall, a hole punching through and I look at him, my blood boiling.
I've had enough.
My neck is throbbing and I know bruises are gonna appear. And something snaps inside me at the very thought.
I'm done. Done with him, done with her, done with being adopted, done with everything.
"FCUK OFF!" I shove him, hands smacking into his shoulders and he stumbles, a look of shock on his face.
"FCUK YOU! AND FCUK YOUR STUPID WIFE! I'M *Ducking* OUT OF HERE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" I can feel my voice box tearing from how loud I'm screaming, my whole body trembling from it, but I can't help it. I'm not doing this anymore, I'm not taking beatings and being treated like sh*t.
I'm fcuking DONE.
Cindy is cowering in the kitchen and I look at her. The look in her eyes makes me step back in shock. And it hits me that she's not on my side anymore. With her face battered and broken, she's more than willing to offer me up instead. As long as he doesn't hurt her anymore. I can see it in her face. Any concern she has for me has been replaced with desperation and relief that I'm the one getting hit instead. And he laughs in my face, cracking his knuckles like those thugs on the street because he knows it's practically two against one, knows she won't argue anymore. And there's no one here to back me up, like I was there to back up Nicola.
I'm all alone.
"You think anyone else will take you in? We're all you've got sweetheart, and you know it! NO ONE GIVES A SH*T ABOUT YOU AND NO ONE WILL! YOU'RE A GOOD FOR NOTHING WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP! AND I'M GONNA FCUKING KILL YOU-"
The front door slams open and I jump in shock, thinking it's the police.
But it's someone much worse.
Cheryl walks in, her expression fierce and angry. My heart drops at the sight of her, tiny and fragile compared to big and bulky Robert, whose expression is enraged at the sight of her.
"YOU B*TCH! YOU TASERED ME!" He's charging at her, and she's not moving. I want to scream at her to move, but my body does something else instead. I run and jump up on the couch, and my body flies forward, smacking right into him. We both fall to the ground and I land on top of him. A wild scream escapes my lips and there's a look of fear in his eyes.
"YOU'RE-" My fist lands in his face hard. "NOT-" Another punch, right in the nose. "FCUKING TOUCHING-" He coughs, blood spilling like a fountain from his mouth. "HER!"
"KIMBERLEY!" Her arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away. His eyes are rolling in the back of his head, blood sputtering from his mouth. And again, Cindy crawls over to him, cradling him in her arms, crying his name and brushing his hair back.
"YOU'RE FCUKING DISGUSTING!" I scream at her, tears welling in my eyes. How can she run back to him? After everything he's done to her, to me-
"Kimberley, go and grab your stuff, all of it. Shove it into plastic bags for all I care, just grab all of it. Now." Cheryl hisses in my ear. I look back at her, confused.
"Why?" I whisper.
"Trust me, please." She whispers back. I stand, looking at her.
"I'll-kill-you-both..." Robert gasps out.
"YOU FCUKING TRY-"
"KIMBERLEY, GET YOUR STUFF, NOW!" Cheryl yells. I march into my room, grabbing my school bag and shoving in anything small like socks and underwear and bras into it. Blood is rushing to my head and I grab any carry on bags I have in my closet, shoving all my clothes into it. I end up with three small shopping bags filled to the brim with clothes and my schoolbag filled with my socks, underwear, bras and jewellery and perfumes and what not.
Is this really all I own? Three small shopping bags of clothes and a schoolbag filled with stuff including schoolbooks and textbooks? I look around the room. It's completely empty now. And it's only taken me ten minutes to do it. All my collections I've ever had in my entire life: bundled up in less than ten minutes.
I haul the bags over my shoulders, gritting my teeth at the pain in my ribs. I barely make it a few steps before I drop them, crying out in agony. Cheryl rushes to my side and takes the three bags from me, lifting them into her arms. And I stare at her in desperation.
She's always saving me...like my own personal guardian angel.
"Come on." She holds her hand out to me and I stare at it in hesitation.
I don't know where she's taking me. But I don't care. Anywhere is better than here. And even though my mind is screaming at me to stop being an idiot, my heart is telling me to go with her.
But which one do I follow?
"Kimberley..." She whispers. I take a deep breath, looking at her. Her chocolate brown eyes are staring at me in desperation and anguish, begging me to come with her. I take a deep breath and reach out, wrapping my hand in hers. She comes to a stop in front of Cindy and Robert, who both glare up at us.
"I'm taking her away and she's never coming back here." She says fiercely. And before they can say anything, she leads me out the door, and I slam it shut behind me.
"Put your bags in the backseat." She says softly. I haul them in silently, my mind still reeling.
Is Cheryl seriously taking me away from my hellhole forever?
The car ride to her place is silent, and I'm wondering what the hell she's thinking. How is she going to get me away from there forever when they're my legal guardians? She can't...it's that simple. And I shouldn't be burdening her with this.
"Cheryl-"
"If you're about to say something stupid about going back, you better shut up and not say it." She growls. I keep my mouth shut, and when we get to her place, she takes my bags into the house in one go.
"This is your home now." She says simply. I shake my head.
"Cheryl-"
"Is this everything you own?" She says, looking down at the bags. I sigh and nod.
"Yes..." She runs a hand through her hair, then nods once.
"We'll sort everything out tomorrow. It's late...you should get some rest." My neck is still throbbing like crazy and my head feels slightly light and airy. My hands are throbbing painfully as well, and I think I'm in some kind of blank shock state.
"Come on..." She leads me toward her bedroom again, and I can feel my mind telling me to stop, telling me it's wrong to sleep in her bed cause then she has nowhere to sleep, but my heart isn't in it.
I'm physically incapable of talking.
I kick my shoes off and lay down, my head hitting the pillows softly. And it takes me back to the first night we found each other again.
I can feel her sitting beside me, but she doesn't touch me. And part of me is thankful, but part of me is craving human contact for reasons I can't explain.
"H-How did you get to my house so quick?" I breathe.
"I was just around the corner." She whispers back. I can't see her, but I almost sense she's biting down on her bottom lip anxiously.
"Were you staking out near my house in case something happened?" I ask hollowly. She takes in a sharp breath.
"Maybe." She whispers. I turn to look at her.
And then I start laughing. And I don't know what I'm feeling, but none of this is funny. And she knows I'm not really laughing. She knows I don't know what I'm feeling.
I hit my foster father. Beat him senseless like he'd beaten me. But I don't feel satisfied. I feel horrible. My hands hurt and everything hurts and all I feel is pain. And it's crippling.
I don't think there's ever been a happy moment in my life. Not since I left the Orphanage. Maybe even before that.
Not since Cheryl left the Orphanage.
But she's beside me right now. I've found her again after twelve years. Somehow, incredibly...I've found her.
And my laughs turn into sobs, and she says nothing. She reaches out, brushing my hair back from my face and I can't stop myself from reaching out and gripping her hand. And she holds it, fingers touching the broken skin of my knuckles softly.
"Shh...it's okay." She whispers, brushing my hair back from my face lightly.
And it feels like we're back in the Orphanage and she's comforting me, as if I've had one of my nightmares.
Like nothing has changed. But everything has changed. Because my nightmares aren't dreams anymore.
They're reality.