6. Mina #3
I still can’t wait around. They can’t drive me home, if my mother saw someone dropping me off, it would be really bad. I’ll have to make a hasty exit as soon as class is over and try to avoid them so they don’t force a ride on me, as I don’t think I’ll be able to say no to any of them.
I sit at the edge of the bleachers, about halfway up, where I think I won’t be noticed by the other students.
I see Tucker setting up some things on the field.
He looks up like he’s searching the bleachers for something.
Or someone. When he sees me, I can see a smile on his face and he waves his hand.
I lift mine slightly to return his greeting.
He goes back to what he’s doing, and soon he’s joined by a bunch of students.
I watch as they toss around different-shaped balls and run up and down the field, doing things in pairs or small groups.
Even though they’re not doing much, I know I won’t be able to do any of it easily.
I’ve had such little exercise in my life, I probably have no muscle or stamina.
Being locked in a basement will do that to you.
I sigh and wonder if my life will ever get any easier.
I notice students heading inside and realize class is almost over. I see Tucker is talking to a couple of students with his back to me and take the opportunity to make my way down the bleachers. I decide going around the school will be easier and faster, plus I’ll avoid bumping into anyone.
With about five minutes to spare, I jog up my driveway.
I might not get exercise anywhere else, but my jogs home from school are definitely going to help with my stamina, if nothing else.
I pant heavily as I take my shoes off and head through the kitchen, smiling when I notice a bowl of macaroni and cheese on the counter.
I look around, not sure if it’s for me or not and wait for another minute, unsure what to do.
I really need to eat, especially since I threw up everything I ate at lunch.
“Mina, are you home?” I hear her before I see her.
She gives me the evil eye as she comes into the kitchen, as if trying to find fault with me.
When her eyes narrow, I know I’ve done something wrong.
“You stupid girl, you took your braids out!” she growls.
Terror grips me when I realize I forgot to put them back in my hair before I came home. Stupid!
“I’m feeling generous today. You can still have dinner, but you get one lashing.
Where do you want it, your back?” She says it so casually you’d think she’s asking me what I want for dinner.
I don’t want it on my back, I won’t be able to reach it to clean it, and with having to wear a backpack everyday it would be painful and hard to heal.
I don’t have much choice. I point to my stomach.
“Alright, take your school clothes off. Gotta keep them clean,” she chuckles darkly.
I know the drill. I pull them off and stuff them in my backpack for an easy getaway after.
I stand with my back against the wall, placing my arms over my face, keeping them well away from my stomach.
I made the mistake of leaving them at my sides once, and the belt marked them as well.
Squeezing my eyes shut tight, knowing it’s best not to see it coming, I hear her footsteps and the tinkling of the belt buckle.
As soon as I start to wonder if she’s actually going to do it, I feel the sting across my stomach.
It takes all I have not to bend over in pain, knowing that action will probably get another lashing on my back.
“Go,” she says calmly, then I hear her cross the kitchen and drop the belt back in the drawer she keeps it in.
I let out a breath as I drop my arms and quickly grab the bowl and my backpack and start heading for the basement door.
Her voice halts my steps. “Oh, and if you make that mistake again, I’ll have Jeff show up in the middle of the night to give you your punishment.
” She gives me a sadistic grin, then walks towards me.
I quickly head down the steps, hearing the door slam and lock behind me.
I place my bag and dinner on my bed before looking at my new wound.
It’s an angry-looking welt, about ten inches, angled across my torso between my stomach and chest. There is a thin slice through it, but it’s barely bleeding, thankfully.
I grab a gauze bandage and wrap it around my torso, wishing I had some sort of antiseptic cream to put on it first.
I decide to check the wound on my arm. But as I unwrap it, the pain increases tremendously.
The worst part is how hot it feels. When I finally have a good look at it, I see a small amount of pus leaking from it.
Gross. I sigh. I need money, a way to get to the drugstore, and time to get there.
I have none of those things. What a disaster.
I wrap it back up and eat my dinner slowly, afraid it will make me throw up again, it’s not difficult since it tastes horrible.
Eventually, I lay down and finally fall asleep, trying to devise a plan to get medication and coming up with nothing. I have to hope that if I stay on my mother’s good side, she will get me antibiotics, eventually.