Pain shoots through my hand and tears threaten my eyes. I will not cry in front of them. I will not. His foot lifts off of my hand, “Oops, sorry about that.”
I lift my glasses towards my face. Putting them on I realize there’s a crack going across one lens. Oh, no mommy will kill me. Oh, no. I look down at my pinky finger and see that it’s bent awkwardly. Is that broken? It hurts a lot.
“Is she going to cry?”
“Oh my god! She’s going to cry!”
“No way! She’s such a baby!”
“Baby!!”
I stare through my broken glasses at my finger. I put my other hand over it, so I won’t look at it. I close my eyes tightly. I can make it through this…
“Ew her finger is turning a weird color.”
Jeremy jerks my hand towards him, making me wince in pain. He studies it and laughs, “You broke it.” He bends it around and I try my hardest not to scream. He laughs at the expressions that cross my face, “Why don’t you scream, freak? You really are a freak! Does this not hurt you?” He jerks the finger to the side making me bite my lip painfully.
The bus jerks to a stop in front of my neighborhood. I jump up quickly and run from the bus. The bus driver glares at me, “No, running!” I run through the yards, running to my house. The tears finally spill over. Why are they so mean?
There’re no cars in the driveway. Daddy is off on another business trip and Mommy doesn’t get home till really late. I grab my house key from under the rug of our giant white house. I unlock the heavy door and push it open. I replace the key and walking into the dark house. I pass by big elegant rooms, climb the long white staircase, and open my bedroom door. My bedroom is plain, nothing too special.
Martha stands just inside my room, making the bed. She takes one look at me and sighs, “How can you make your outfit so dirty…” she shakes her head and spies my hand.
“Did you fall again?”
I nod my reply. She walks forward and roughly inspects my hand, “It’s broken.” She takes the pinky and jerks it. Pain shoots through my hand once more and I hear a terrible pop.
“It should be fine now.” Her Spanish accent laces her words. She finishes the bed and places my pajamas on it, “Now, I’ll be back with dinner later. Behave and stay in your room.”
She leaves slamming the door behind her. Mommy and Daddy don’t like me leaving my room, only if they have friends over and they want to show me off, but they don’t like doing that much. They expect me to stay silent in my room, not making a peep, and I do what they want. I know the consequences of not behaving.
I know I’ll experience another spanking tonight, mommy said so. I change my clothes and starting reading ahead in my text books. Hours later I hear the front door slam shut. I try my hardest to ignore it. I hear high heels climb the stairs, awfully slowly. Then my door creaks open. I turn around and see the long wooden paddle in my mother’s hands.
She hands it to Martha who stands just behind her, not wanting to dish out the punishment in fear of breaking her flawless nails. She likes to stand and watch though. I close my eyes and wait for the pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment