Chapter 14
“Thanksgiving break is here. You going to be okay, Leora?”
Ski is driving me home after work. The old rickety truck tosses me around as we drive down the pot hole–filled road of my trailer park.
Today was the last day of school, and now we are off for a week. I’ll hide out at Mill’s as much as I can, but Mom still expects me home to make dinner and keep up on the housework. She doesn’t pay much attention to where I am most days, which is a blessing.
“You know me. I’ll be fine.”
I see the clench of his jaw, the worry in his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to the police, Leora. I will help you. I can take you in."
I lay my hand on his, "I'm not an adult, they will take me from here.
From everything I have worked so hard to build, from you and Everett.
Not much longer and I'll be eighteen. I can escape.
I can survive till then. Trust me." I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile then a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Okay, sweetie. Call me if you need anything at all."
Looking out the window as rain drops drip down on the glass, I stare at the trailer for a moment.
The peeling brownish orange paint, the broken fence that was probably once white, the muddy front yard.
You think I would get used to the sight of it, but I haven’t.
It still sends a spike of fear through my body, never knowing what I will find on the other side of that screen door.
But whatever it is, I'll survive it. I always do.
Stepping from his truck and into the wet Oregon air, I take in a deep breath. When I walk into the house, I am surprised to find Mom up and about. Normally she stays in her room unless she needs another drink.
She turns when I enter, and my stomach drops. I know that look. Her lips are thinned into a straight line. Her blue eyes narrowed. And suddenly I remember that I forgot to buy another bag of frozen peas.
“What the fuck are these?” She holds up a stack of paper. I know what they are without even needing to get close to her.
“My college applications.”
She throws them into the sink and turns the faucet on. Good thing I already submitted them and those were my copies. She must have been looking for money in my things. I had them hidden in a shoebox under the couch. My only place to store my belongings.
“You’re not going to fucking college. One, you’re too stupid, and two, we don’t have the money,” she spits out, placing her hands on her hips.
I disregard her stupid comment. She can call me anything she wants.
One thing I know is that I am not stupid.
I know deep down that all she throws at me are her own insecurities.
Her own way to tear me down, as low as she is.
But I know the truth. I am not her and I have fought tooth and nail to never be like her.
“I applied for scholarships. You won’t have to pay anything. I promise.”
“Well, what about me? You’re just going to leave me? I have taken care of you all your life, and you think you can just leave? You ungrateful bitch.” She growls out the last part, and shivers run up my spine.
Is she delusional? Has the alcohol finally done brain damage? She can’t take my escape from me. I won't allow it. I feel a rare fire crawl up my spine. My instinct to run is completely drowned out by the desire to stand up for myself. To fight. Something I have never done before.
“You have taken care of me?” I can’t hold back my tongue.
“You have taken care of me?” I scream it louder this time.
“All you have ever done is drink your money away and force me to do everything! I never got to be a kid! I never got anything from you! I will not let you take away my future! I'm going. And you can't stop me.”
She stomps toward me but I hold my ground. The slap of her hand stings my cheek. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that. I feed you. I clothe you. You would have nothing without me.” Her tone is quiet now. And I brace for what is to come.
Most people think that screaming and yelling are the signs of true anger. But no, that is the sound of hurting, the release of pain. It’s when they get quiet that the devil is surfacing.
The ache in my stomach from her fist makes me feel nauseated.
I meet the floor, unable to stand. I try to claw at her but my stomach hurts too much.
I was never a fighter, never had it in me.
Not physically anyway and she knows that.
She uses her weight against me as she straddles my hips, her cold hands wrap around my throat, cutting off my oxygen.
She keeps me pinned, despite how much I try to buck her off.
It never matters how many times I am in this position.
When you can’t breathe, your reflexes can’t help but fight. Even when you know it’s pointless.
“I put you into this world, and I’ll take you out of it. Do you understand? You are weak, Leora. You need me.”
I wish she would yell. But she is whispering. As if she is saying these things more to herself than me.
Her grip is tight. I have never fought so hard to breathe. I’m scratching at her arms, clawing at her hands, but she isn’t letting up. My vision begins to tunnel, but I blink rapidly, trying to keep myself in this reality. Why? I don’t know.
“Ye-es,” I try to get out, but it's silent, my mouth moving but my voice taken from me.
I know she won’t kill me. That is her biggest fear. My departure would leave her with nothing. If I am gone, she would have to take all her self-hatred and turn it to the person it belongs to. She wouldn’t have someone to blame for her own mistakes in life. She would dissolve.
She releases, and I pull in a breath, coughing through the burn in my throat. My head is pounding, and my eyes feel like they are about to pop.
She grabs her lighter from the coffee table next to us and flicks it, letting it heat.
I know what’s coming. The ones on my thighs burn with the memory.
“I’m sorry, Mom. Okay. I won't go. Please just stop.” My pleas do nothing. Maybe that’s why I can never say no when someone says please, because no one said yes to mine.
“You need a reminder of who owns you. I am your mother. You belong to me to do with as I please. You’re lucky I haven’t whored you out to help pay the bills. You are so ungrateful for all I do for us! For us to survive.”
I expect her to bring the lighter to my belly, but she doesn’t. She shoves the lighter to my neck, and my skin ignites. The flesh that is already so sensitive from her hold earlier now burns with a ferocity I have never felt. I scream out, and when her mark has been left, she gets off me.
“Now every time you look in the mirror, you will remember me.” She leaves me clutching my neck and crying on the floor as she stumbles back to her room. “Clean up this fucking mess and find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”
She mumbles something else under her breath, and when I hear her door slam, I shut my eyes.
I allow myself to break for just a moment.
I let it all in. I feel the pain, both physical and emotional, and then I lock it away.
Stand up, clean up the papers in the sink and the items that were knocked from the coffee table.
I don’t need to pack a bag. I always keep a go bag at Mill’s for cases like this. I also keep my coffee can of cash there too. I’m not stupid enough to leave it here for her to find. What I need most right now is my first aid kit. I need to put ointment on this burn and get it covered.
I begin my three-mile walk. Despite the pain in my body, my soul is soothed by the darkness of the night.
The calmness. The stillness. The only sounds are the rustling of the fallen leaves and the breeze tickling the trees.
The cool air grazes my neck, and I wince.
Every time I move my head in any direction, it stretches the skin, and I want to cry. But I don’t. I focus on the night.
Sometimes, when I walk this path at night, I look into the dark tress and wonder what it would be like to walk into them, let them embrace me in their branches and never give me back to this cruel world.
I used to think that almost every night.
But now I think about Everett. About how if I were to never return from the woods, I would be missing out on an incredible love.
A love he has shown me. The thought of him, our future, it brings me back from the woods.
Gives me hope that one day, I will fly away from this town, him and I will be free.
I am almost to the shop when I see his truck. His black Ford F-150 is driving toward me. Panic seizes my heart.
No. No. No.
I can't let him see me like this. I'll break. And I cant afford to do that right now.
But it’s too late. His headlights catch me like a spotlight. His door opens. “Leo?"
I take off into the woods.
I hear Ev yell after me. "God dammit! Stop, Leo!"
But I don’t stop.
My delusional brain thought I could outrun him. Stupid football players. I feel his presence closer and closer, hear his footsteps right behind me. Then I feel his strong arms wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I got you.”
“Let me go, Ev!” I scream at him. Then regret it as my throat screams back at me. He can’t see me like this.
“Never,” he whispers in my ear and spins me in his arms. He cradles my head in his chest, and the tears come involuntarily.
He picks me up under my thighs and wraps my legs around him, and then I feel him walk us back to his truck.
He drops his tail gate and sets me on it. Standing between my legs, he grasps my face in his hands, and his palm brushes up against my burn and I wince.
His eyes flood with panic. “Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head.
“What’s going on, Leo? Talk to me.” His voice is soft, like he is trying to calm a wild animal.
My head is screaming at me to run.
“Phoenix.”