"Stop! Please, you're hurting me!"
My mother shoved me against the kitchen counter, slamming her fist into my already bruised stomach. Grabbing my hair, she forced my head back, baring my neck. Her sharp nails dug into the skin of my throat and I screamed as the warm, wet blood came trickling down to my chest.
"Shut up!" she screamed in my ear and slapped me across the face. "You're nothing but trash I can't seem to get rid of!"
She grabbed my head and slammed it against the kitchen fridge. The entire room started blurring out and turning red... and then a dark shade of purple. . . and then . . . nothing. . .
-*-
I awoke to my mother kneeling against the bed, my palm in her hand, crying and attending to my wounds. "I'm sorry, Haylie. I'm so, so sorry. Please, please forgive me," she had been muttering continuously.
I stared up at the ceiling fan above me, watching it going around and around, and thinking about how I could just stare at it for hours. I could slowly slip away from myself into nothing. -become nothing. I understand this makes no sense but I wished with all my entirety that it did.
Avoiding eye contact, I said, as if on routine, "It's fine mom. I'm fine. I forgive you."
I felt her squeeze my fingers- a gesture probably meant as motherly comfort- but all I felt were her cold, callous fingertips that my body cowered away from instinctively.
"And you're not going to tell anyone?" She pleaded. So much for motherly.
I sighed.
"I never do," I promised, and tried smiling at her- which felt more like a grimace.
Her eyes lit up and I winced in pain when she kissed me. "It'll never happen again, I promise."
Yeah. Sure.
When she finally left the room, I was free to get ready in peace. So after taking a long and painful shower, I straightened my dark red hair and got dressed.
Looking in the mirror, I inspected my attire: My ripped denim shorts over some black tights that were a little too itchy, the black leather jacket that clung to my skin like a leather seat on a hot day, and a pair of combat boots that were two sizes too big. These things and the pounds of concealer I'd applyed to hide the bruises. And I noticed how much I'd changed in just six short months, let alone the past few years. I had become an entirely different person- someone Brenton would despise... someone I would have too. But, in a way, I liked that. Becoming a different person helped me cope with reality.
It's almost like I'm in one of those dreams where I'm Me but in a different body. The only difference is, in this case, it's more like a nightmare.
-And there's no waking up.
-*-
Once I got to class, I picked a random seat in the back of they room. But as soon as I sat down, Aria Burns walked in and glared daggers at me. She strutted towards me and stopped at where I was sitting.
"Get out of my seat," she demanded, setting her books on the desk.
My eyebrows rose as if they were daring her to speak one more time. She shifted her weight a bit but ultimately stood her ground. I stood up and looked her straight in the eyes. "Make me," I challenged and slammed her stuff onto the floor.
"Oh my god, you bi-" she started just when Mr. Walker, the science teacher, walked in and we both quickly sat down.
"Haylie, Aria, detention for the both of you," he stated without looking our way and begun teaching.
In the middle of class, Aria turned towards me. "You know, this wouldn't have happened if you would have just moved," she whispered angrily.
"You know," I mocked her high pitched voice, "this wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a c-..." Her eyes widened at what I was about to say. "Nevermind," I finished.
We stared at each other for a moment before I was nearly blinded by the lightbulb that went off in her empty head. A devilish smirk played across her face leaving me wondering what was coming next.
"You know, I've heard the rumors," she told me.
That caught me off gaurd.
I turned my head slightly. "What 'rumors'?" I asked.
"I mean, you're so pretty and all. It'd be such a shame if it turns out they're true."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded. I had heard giggling and shifting in their seats when we started going at it, but at this point, we'd become the object of any highschool student's entertainment. The whole classroom was looking at us.
"Though if I was your mom I would probably hate you too. I mean, you did kill her only son, right?"
"Stop talking," I warned her, clenching my jaw. My hands balled into fists and I tried to keep my cool.
"No wonder she beats you."
And that's when I snapped. I was off my feet faster than you could say "Oh, my God, Hayley. Have some self control" and held her to the ground.
"Get off of me fatso!" she screamed.
"I'm like 130 pounds!" I retorted and punched her in the face.
She tried scratching me and pulling my hair while I kneed her stomach, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her until it was at the point before breaking.
"Oh my god! Stop, please! It hurts!" she cried.
"Stop! Please, you're hurting me!"
Flashbacks to the previous morning caught me off guard. Suddenly, everything slowed and I found myself slowly releasing my grip. I could still hear her taunting words, now, in the middle of a fight of all places.
"Haylie?" I faintly heard. "Haylie," it said. "Haylie!" The voice boomed.
My head snapped up. "What?" I said quietly and somewhat confused. Strong hands gripped my arm and I felt myself getting pulled off by Mr. Walker.
After getting pulled up, he made me sit in the hall for a while to "think about what I had done" before coming back inside. I almost rolled my eyes at that. Yeah, that'll teach me
Everyone went silent the moment I stepped back into the room. "Care to share with the class what you two were whispering about before you attacked Aria?" Mr. Walker asked me.
"Well," I smiled innocently, "Aria was just telling me what she's going to name her baby. All I was saying is that 'Accident' is a terrible name for a child when she started verbally attacking me. I had to stand up for myself didn't I?"
Loud gasps could be heard throughout the room. A male voice called out from the back of the room, "Who's the baby daddy?" Another voice shouted, "Slut!"
Aria stood their, red faced, looking completely and utterly mortified. "She's a freaking lair!" she accused.
"Ms. Jensen," he started, "Sit down, now. You're here to learn; not to get into petty fights with your peers."
I laughed at his ridiculous logic. "Mr. Walker," I mocked him, "Not one person in this classroom- maybe even in this whole school- is here to learn. We're here because it's the law and nobody here is planning on slapping their parents with a court order just cause they find science boring. But trust me on this one; Nobody is here to learn," I laughed. He stared at me for a moment with an exasperated expression before saying, "You'll need this," and handing me the hall pass.
"Why?" I asked, confused.
"Well we don't want people to think you're skipping class on the way to the principals office... But that's nothing out of the ordinary for you, right?" He said smugly. ... Was that his big comeback?
"Whatever," I mumbled, gathering my bag.
Funny how I don't go to the principles office because I get into a fight in the middle of class, but because I embarrassed the teacher in front of his students.
-*-
"Why, Haylie? Why do you do this to yourself?" My principle (a.k.a counselor) asked tiredly.
"You know perfectly well why," I snapped at her.
Her eyes softened and looked down at her desk. "Yes, I do." She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "But this isn't healthy. You need to grieve and move on. Beating yourself up over it isn't going to bring him back."
I clenched my jaw. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't know that he's never ever coming back? That I'll never get to see his shining face again? He was 7 years old and he never even had a chance because I took that away from him! You don't understand what it's like! For me to be reminded every single day that I murdered my own brother! Brenton is gone and it's All. My. Fault."
A moment of silence passed betwen us. "I don't understand why it wasn't me" I said quietly, "I mean, that's what I wanted, right? If it was, I wouldn't have to be living this hell every single day. Everything reminds me of him. The blue sky that would mesmerize him, the room I have to look at every morning, even the smiles on peoples faces that he somehow found a way to wear all the time. God, I can't take it anymore! That feeling I get every morning when I wake up and remember he's dead and the grief hits me cold and hard all over again? It's eating away at me. I hate to forget for just a moment that he's gone and start wondering what he's doing only to remember again and feel like the wind is knocked out of me. So please. Please don't tell me when the right time to stop grieving is or what I should and shouldn't feel because you couldn't possibly understand," I spat.
After finishing that dramatic monologue, I grabbed my bag and walked out. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over as I rushed down the hallway trying to see through them.
"Haylie!" I heard from behind. I didn't turn around. I just fled.
-*-
I sighed in relief when I looked around the house and didn't catch sight of my moms car, although the feelings was short lived when I got to my room and heard my name being called.
My heart rate picked up instantly and I frantically looked around the room for somewhere to hide. Where was she? Why was she taking so long. Why was I asking these questions? I wanted her to take longer!
"Haylie!" My mother bursted through the door. Her eyes were bloodshot and she frantically looked around. "Where's Brenton?" she asked.
My eyebrows pulled together. "Mom...," I began cautiously, knowing she could be set off any second, "Brent isn't here."
"Well where the hell is he?" she screamed.
"Mom he's... He's...," I swallowed the lump in my throat, "not here."
Several different emotions fill her eyes until they set on confusion. "Wh- What do you- What do you mean?" Out of nowhere, her face darkened in realization. "You," she spat, "You killed him!"
In a split second, she was at my throat, holding my head against the wall. "It's all your fault!" she screamed straight into my ear. Her spit trickled down the side of my head and my eyes started to sting. But I refused to cry, I refused to accept my mother had any verbal power over me, and I refused to give in. I continued to take the blows to my stomach and my face. She grabbed my arm and twisted in the most painful, unnatural way possible that sent a sharp pain throughout my body. Suddenly, my nerves were consumed in a fire. No longer posessing enough restraint and no longer caring, I let out a piercing scream.
My eyes betrayed me as tears streamed down my face. "Stop. Stop. Stop," I tried to say but it only came out as a weak whimper. I felt cold hands clasp around my throat before my air supply was completely cut off. My eyes widened as I clawed at my moms hands and thrusted my legs forward. After fighting and fighting for air, I came to a sudden realization; It's almost over. All the pain, the regret, the agony- It'll all be gone.
I'll be free.
I stopped the kicking and fighting and allowed the waves of nothing to slowly but surely fall over me.
I had one thought on my mind the whole time: I'll be free. I'll be free.
I'll be free.
And eventually, I was.
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