4. Mina
Chapter four
T he blaring of my alarm pulls me into consciousness, and as I reach to switch it off, a stabbing pain shoots through my arm and shoulder, a painful reminder of yesterday’s events. I clutch my elbow, trying to keep my arm still while I try to take deep breaths. When the pain eases, I sit up and inspect the wound, but can’t see anything through the gauze. At least I didn’t bleed through it. When I try to touch the surrounding area, I almost throw up from the pain. It’s swollen and extremely tender to the touch. Dammit.
I’ll have to see if there is anything in the bathroom I can use to help heal it. Since I knew from firsthand experience that my mother wouldn’t provide me with any antibiotics or pain medication, it was up to me to keep it as clean as possible to prevent it from getting worse.
Seeing the time, I realize I need to get moving so I’m not late for school. When I get to the basement door, I sigh in relief, finding it unlocked. I’m not sure when she unlocked for me, but I’m pleased I don’t have to wait.
Glancing in the mirror, I see the ends of my hair matted with blood from yesterday’s incident . I let out a deep breath of frustration. Washing it in the sink is never fun but I don’t have a choice, I haven’t been able to have a proper bath or shower in over a decade. However, I do make sure that every day I get access to the bathroom, I thoroughly clean myself with soap in the sink. It’s just very time consuming. Not like I had anything better to do… before now, that is.
Washing my hair this morning is particularly grueling thanks to my sore arm. By the time I’m done, my shoulder is throbbing and I can barely move my arm. With no hair dryer, I leave my hair down to let it dry while I walk to school. I didn’t want to put those stupid pigtail braids in again. I knew my mother was trying to make me appear more juvenile than I was. I didn’t understand her request yesterday, but at the time I thought she was taking me to college, not high school. Not like that’s any better.
As I suspected, there’s nothing in this bathroom to help with my arm besides regular soap. By the time I’ve cleaned and re-wrapped my arm, I’ve almost passed out five times from the pain. Mother was getting creative with such a small looking injury that induced maximum pain. It was probably Jeff who had the bright idea of using that bottle opener. I never knew where she found these guys, but they all had different styles of punishment for my ‘behavior problems’.
I am never sure how I’m supposed to act, I just know that whatever I do seems to be wrong. My mother constantly told me that she was punishing me to help me, to help rid the demon from my body. I didn’t understand what she meant, I didn’t feel like I had a demon inside me, if anything, she’s the one who’s fighting some sort of inner demon. But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell anybody that. And for all I knew, she was right. It was my fault that she had to punish me. If I could just be better, then she would love me.
Shaking myself out of those thoughts, I get dressed, before grabbing my bag and heading to the kitchen, hoping I could actually get some food this morning. I was used to a lack of food but I didn’t have a single thing to eat yesterday. My stomach rumbles as if it agrees.
Unfortunately, my mother is standing in the kitchen waiting for me, making my stomach drop at the sight of her, all thoughts of food temporarily forgotten.
“Hair!” she yells straight away. I quickly start braiding my hair in two pigtails, thankful I have hair ties on my wrists already. “You’re leaving early, aren’t you?” I wanted to make sure I had enough time to get to school, which starts in an hour and a half, but as usual, I can’t reply.
Frowning at me, she continues. “Well, I suppose I’d rather you arrive on time than get a phone call from the principal because your fat ass couldn’t get there fast enough. Alright, what are you waiting for? Go!” She waves her hand toward the front door. I hesitate, my eyes moving to the counter, hoping to grab a banana for breakfast.
When she sees where I’m looking, she narrows her eyes. “Sinners don’t get food. If you get home on time today, you can have something to eat tonight. You could do without food for a bit longer, anyway.” She looks my body up and down in disgust, as if I’m not wasting away from hunger.
“GO!” She yells again when I don’t move. This time I don’t hesitate, throwing on my backpack despite the pain. I quickly slip my shoes on and exit as fast as I can, closing the door quietly behind me.
As I move towards the sidewalk, the first thing I notice is how cold it is today. I have no sweater or jacket. I hope my mother will realize I need one soon, as it’s still early fall and the weather will continue to get colder. There is no way I could ask her for one. The last time I figured out a way to ask her for something was when I got my first period and needed pads, and that ended with me being stuck in bed for three days from the beating.
When I get further down the street and my house is no longer in view, I stop to pull out the extra pair of socks I had shoved in my bag and bend to stuff them in the ends of my shoes. I try taking a few steps and smile. Much better. I begin walking again and use my good arm to pull my braids out. I want my hair to dry and it would take all day if I kept it braided. Unfortunately, my wet hair is making me even colder, forcing me to wrap my arms around myself and shiver. I just have to get to school, then I’ll be okay.
As I turn a corner, I finally see the school and let out a small breath of relief. I made it in time. The closer I get, the more I notice the other students. I’d never seen so many teenagers in person before and it’s slightly terrifying. Yesterday I really hadn’t seen many outside of my one attempt to go into a class.
Remembering my mother’s warning, I keep my eyes down and head straight for the main door, planning to go to my safe space in the library and away from all these people. The next thing I know, something large slams into me, knocking me to the ground before landing on top of me. I feel the grass under my fingers, which means I’d flown at least three feet when I was tackled.
What the fudge? I internally groan. Luckily I landed on my back but my arm is screaming in pain from being jostled so badly. That’s when the person on me starts to move and I realize I’ve been tackled by a guy. Holy hell, he’s big! Somehow he’s managed to get his arm around me and he looks down into my wide eyes and smiles, causing me to shiver. This guy gives me a bad feeling.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous, funny, running into you like this. ”
I don’t know how to respond, not that I could say anything, so I just stare at him as my heart rate starts to pick up and the beginning of a panic attack starts to form. I try to get my hands between us to push him off me.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you, let me help you up.” He moves to stand, pulling me up with him, with one arm around my upper body and the other… OH! The other was on my butt. I quickly stand and push his arm away as I step back. I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be touching me there.
“Oh, you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he asks with a wicked grin on his face. He’s looking at me like I’m a challenge he wants to win. I don’t like it. I’ve seen that look before.
I try to step around him to go inside, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Come on, gorgeous, let me help you. You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you before.” He cocks his head to the side while firmly holding my wrist, refusing to let me escape. I try to tug it away, but he grips it harder, making me scrunch my nose in pain.
Eventually, I nod my head, hoping that answering his question will get him to let go of me. It doesn’t. He gives me a big smile and pulls me under his arm. My breathing starts to quicken as I keep trying to pull away, unsuccessfully. This guy is a solid wall and I have no hope of extracting myself from his grasp.
“I’m Brad, remember that, you’ll be screaming it later,” he says before he starts chuckling to himself.
My body freezes as my eyes go wide. Is he... threatening me?
My mother’s voice rings in my head, telling me I deserve to be treated like trash, to be punished. She must be right, why else would every person I’ve met try to harm me? Well, everyone except the two people I met yesterday …
I stop struggling and try to take deep breaths so I don’t pass out. Resigning myself to my new fate, I drop my head and let Brad drag me towards the building under his arm. A tear silently rolls down my cheek as I stare at the walkway in front of us, wondering what he has planned for me.
We suddenly stop and I see a pair of green sneakers in front of me, blocking our path.
“Get your fucking hands off of her right now,” the new guy with green sneakers says angry. He’s speaking to Brad, but he probably just wants to punish me himself. I’m still not sure what I’ve done, but this world seems hell bent on punishing me, anyway.
“Back off, shit head, I saw her first,” Brad angrily replies while squeezing me closer. My face scrunches in pain. His hand is just above my injury and it’s taking everything in me not to throw up. At least I’m not sobbing , I think as I watch my tears carry themselves silently to the ground.
“What the fuck? She isn’t a lost item you can claim. And you’re hurting her, so I will ask you one last time to get your filthy mitts off of her before I make you.” He says all of that without shouting, but I can sense the anger radiating from him. I want to look at him, but I’m afraid of him turning his anger on me.
“I’m not hurting her, she likes it. She’s my girl, right, babe?” Brad squeezes me again and I can feel his eyes on me. What do I do? If I disagree, I’ll probably be in more trouble, but I don’t want to agree. I don’t want to be his anything.
The guy in front of me squats down to put his face level with mine, but I make sure to keep staring at the ground, avoiding his eyes. What does he want from me?
“Sweetheart?” he asks softly, his tone so much gentler than the one he used on Brad. I still don’t know what to do, so I squeeze my eyes shut tight.
“She doesn’t want to fucking talk to you man, you’re making her uncomfortable, just get out of my way!” Brad responds angrily, trying to angle me away from the new guy.
“Sweetheart, just look at me for a second. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He sounds so gentle and sweet I can’t stop myself from opening my eyes to look at him. As I tilt my head up, I’m shocked by his familiar gorgeous face and the concern I see there.
Forget what I said about Brad being big. This guy is huge. He makes Brad look like a toddler. His brown hair is pulled back into a bun, and his green eyes seem familiar. In fact, the more I look at him, the more his whole face seems familiar.
Jasper? No, it can’t be, Jasper’s had short hair, and this guy is wearing his hair in a messy man bun. I have to admit, both versions are highly appealing. Oh! This guy must be Jasper’s twin! I stare at him with wide eyes while he smiles softly at me.
“Thank you. Now just tell me, do you want to go with Brad?” I only have to think for a split second. Jasper had been nice to me and his twin makes me feel like I can be honest right now and won’t get punished for it. Although I know hope has never been my friend before, I decide to take a chance and shake my head once.
The gorgeous man smiles at me, then stands up as the smile drops from his face and he looks at Brad again. “Drop the arm. NOW.” He says it so forcefully, I find myself wanting to obey everything he says.
Brad huffs as he slides his arm off my shoulders. “Whatever. I’ll be seeing you again soon, babe.” I keep my head down but feel him trail his thumb through the tear tracks on my face. I watch him in shock and horror as he sucks his thumb into his mouth. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head at the sight.
“Mmm… delicious,” he says with a wink.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” The twin snarls, shoving Brad’s shoulder and moving to stand between us.
Brad just chuckles, leaning around him to give me one last message. “I’ll be seeing you around, babe.” Then he gives me a frightening smile before he turns and walks away. My whole body trembles as I quickly wipe at my skin where he touched me. At first I thought he didn’t realize he was hurting me, but now I’m certain he didn’t just know, he loved it. He was literally tasting my pain.
My eyes start getting blurry at the thought. I can’t do this. It’s too much. I’d rather be locked in the basement than deal with guys like Brad. My breathing starts to quicken and I realize, too late, that I’m having another panic attack. Black spots start to invade my vision as my head grows dizzy.
No no no, not again! Not here on the steps to my new school! I fight to regain control of my breathing when a voice penetrates my rampant thoughts.
“.... me? Sweetheart, look at me, can you hear me?” I realize the twin who saved me is kneeling on the ground, holding my face in his giant hands. How long has he been touching me like this? I expect the fact that he’s got his hands on me to send me deeper into the panic attack, but it does the opposite. The feeling of his hands on my face helps to ground me. I grip his hands with mine as my breathing starts to even out, the dizziness quickly fading .
That’s when I notice his expression. He looks worried. Why is he looking at me like that?
“That’s it. Good girl. Breathe nice and deep. Yes, just like that. Good girl. Do you feel a bit better now?” I slowly nod my head once, not breaking eye contact with him as I try to puzzle out what he wants from me.
He pulls a tissue from his pocket and leans towards my face, stopping with it inches away. “May I?” he asks, looking into my eyes. I nod once and he gently wipes the tears from my cheeks, his expression looking worried again.
“There we go, as good as new,” he smiles as he stands up, tucking the tissue away.
“Is it your first day here?” I shake my head and hold up two fingers. He stares at my fingers with confusion for only a moment before he seems to come to some realization. Maybe he’s figured out I can’t speak. “Can I see your schedule?” I nod my head and pull my schedule from my bag and hand it to him, being careful not to jostle my arm.
He smiles at me warmly as he speaks. “I’m Max, by the way. Let’s get you inside, you must be freezing, where’s your coat?” He looks around like it might be laying on the ground somewhere, but I just shrug, unsure how to explain that I don’t have one. He seems to understand and turns his attention to my schedule instead as he grabs my hand and gently leads me towards the entrance.
“Hey! You’re in my math class! I didn’t see you yesterday. I guess you missed it, orientation or something?” he asks, glancing at me. I give him a simple nod.
As we enter the building, I realize he’s still holding my hand. It feels so strange. I thought it would make me feel trapped and restrained but instead, it makes me feel protected and safe, like as long as he’s holding my hand, nobody else can get to me. I know it’s a stupid thing to think, especially when I barely know him, but sometimes you can’t explain your feelings.
As we walk through the halls, I gaze around at everything. Everyone is looking at me with wide eyes. Some appear interested, some seem angry and others are just smirking, like they know a secret that I don’t.
My mother’s voice echoes in my mind, eyes down, don’t interact with people ! At that memory, my eyes immediately move to the floor and I don’t dare lift them until I hear Max speak.
“They are looking at me, not you,” Max whispers near my ear. I glance up at him with confusion, because that doesn’t seem right at all. He chuckles a little. “You see, I haven’t been here that long myself, and I have a bit of a reputation already for... not being known to... That is... I don’t really... Uhh... What I mean is...”
“They’re all jealous,” a girl cuts in from my other side, making me jump in surprise. I furrow my brows at her and she gives me what I think is a friendly smirk. Her pixie cut is dyed bright blue, and she wears a crazy amount of jewelry on her wrists and neck. Her bomber jacket is short and matches her hair color almost perfectly.
“Max and his brother Jasper are the school’s hottest single guys and every girl has been trying to get their hands on them since day one. But they don’t date. At least that’s what they’ve told everyone who’s been interested. So him walking you down the hall, holding your hand, especially when nobody has even seen you before, is shocking the shit out of them.” She says with a chuckle, like she’s amused by the situation.
Feeling uncomfortable with the attention, I try to pull my hand out of Max’s. I don’t want to get on anyone’s radar, but he doesn’t let me.
“Don’t worry about it. You aren’t doing anything wrong. They’ll be bored of the news in a few days.” A few days? Did that mean he was going to keep holding my hand? Did I want him to? Yes.
Looking at the blue-haired girl again, I wonder why she’s telling me all of this. Does she want to date Max too? And why does that thought make me angry?
But I knew the answer to that last question. I want to keep him. He’s the first nice person to ever hold my hand and all I can think about is putting some super glue between our palms to keep him with me all the time. Then, maybe, he could protect me from all my demons.
That thought sobers me. Reminding me that I don’t get to keep nice things. I am the demon, not them. I deserve what I get, and don’t deserve nice things, ever.
I steal a quick sideways glance at Max. I might not be able to keep him, but I could relish in this for a few minutes at least. Even if it does come crashing down on me, eventually.