I Pray for Death

Chapter Four

I limped down the stairs in the dark, avoiding the ones that squeaked, went through the living room and into the kitchen.  I checked to make sure all was still quiet and eased the back door open.  I walked across the damp, patchy grass of our backyard and into the neighboring one.  The moon was barely visible under heavy gray clouds and the air smelled of the fresh rain to come.  The darkness surrounded me as I sat on the middle swing facing the woods behind the house and eased myself back and forth.  My legs were too sore for any high flying tonight but just being out of that horrible place made my heart feel lighter.  

Closing my eyes and leaning my head back, I let the wind play over the bruises on my face, the cold air easing the fresh sting.  Out here, I could dream of a life of freedom from the pain, I could dream of love and warm arms that would keep me safe from all the evil of the world.  I didn’t let myself think of those things often, it was no use.  My life had been reduced to nothing but hateful words and violent actions.  Most days I already felt dead inside, the rest of me was just taking time to catch up.  

 A chill wind whispered down from behind me bringing the sound of a door latching.  I glanced behind me to the house that was supposed to be empty and saw a large figure heading towards me.  My eyes widened in fear and jumping up, I ran as fast as I could manage on my throbbing legs.  

“Wait!”  A deep voice called out behind me but I didn’t stop; I ran to my back door and flew up the stairs.  I collapsed on my bed, my breathing ragged and my limbs trembling.  Curling into a ball and pulling the covers over myself, I wondered why I hadn’t noticed someone moving in next door.  Truthfully, I knew the reason I hadn’t noticed; I hardly had the energy to see what was in front of me, much less in the outside world.    

A short while later I fell asleep and into the nightmares.  Almost every night I would dream about my parents cruel actions and about Shayde but tonight, I kept dreaming about running away from the figure that had caught me on his swing set.  He was always behind me; waiting for me to fall.  

A loud crash from downstairs woke me up the next morning.  I turned to look out the window and saw a slim line of light pouring over the horizon.  Pushing the covers off, I forced my body to move.  The aches and pains are always worse in the morning and it’s hard to make myself get up.  

I staggered to the top of the steps and looked down into the living room.  Sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch was my father, a large, empty liquor bottle still gripped in his hand.  The crash I heard must have been him falling.  His drinking started about a year ago.  I really couldn’t blame him; I would want to escape in a bottle too.  I glanced around but didn’t see my mother; she must have made it to bed before her high wore off.  

Going into the bathroom and closing the door, I unwound the toilet paper from around my arms.  They looked like a lion got a hold of them and the skin was mostly one big bruise.  I sat down on the floor and cradled my head in my hands.  How much more could I take?  I sniffled and held back the tears that threatened to fall.  Shaking my head, I stood up and took a shower like every other morning.  I slathered the concealer on my face and went to find a shirt and jacket that was sure to cover my arms and neck.  The cold weather made it so much easier to hide the evidence of abuse and my long hair acted as a shield for any curious looks.  

 At school, I managed to steal another biscuit and after eating half, I stopped by a water fountain and drank until I couldn’t hold anymore.  In class, I sat in my regular seat and watched from the corner of my eye as everyone piled in and took their seats.  

The same boy, Grayson, sat next to me and I felt his eyes on me through the whole lesson.  I tried to keep my eyes away from him but couldn’t help glancing at him through my hair every now and then.  He was tall, taller than my father who I thought was huge, and well muscled.  He looked like he could inflict a lot of pain on someone if he set his mind to it.  His brown hair was short and I swear I could feel the heat radiating off his body.  That heat was almost comforting.