Dream Catch Me - Chapter Thirty One (Feat. Joe)

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The absolute best part of being on break for two weeks, was that I was able to dodge the attention of Mr Lewis. I could stop wearing the baggy clothes that I tried to hide in, and I could stop feeling unbelievably threatened whenever he was around. That was the same with Shannon. However, it seemed that the Shannon problem had sorted itself out. She was most likely fraternising with Lewis and too busy to have even thought about me as a threat. Or perhaps she had finally realised that it wasn't worth it; I never wanted Mr Lewis in the first place, far from it really.

Unfortunately it wasn't the threat from Mr Lewis that I had to be careful of, but rather my own mother. When it came to moving out, we needed to pick a time that we knew Mother would be out of the hell hole of a house she calls home. It would mean it would be less likely that she could try and stop us from leaving or interfering. Joe, Alex and I all decided that the best time would be at night, when she would most possibly be out gambling or drinking poison somewhere.

Alex and I were both at home, locked in our rooms and waiting for Mother to leave. When we finally heard the loud slam of the wooden front door that indicated her departure we set to work. And fast. We only had a few hours at the least in which we could work in and would guarantee a mother free zone. A couple of days ago we had picked up some boxes to pack our stuff, yet we both agreed it would be too risky to pack anything until the night we were leaving, stashing the boxes under our beds and in wardrobes.

Joe would be coming later to help us move, and by bringing a trailer meant we could load on my old, rickety bed and take it to the new apartment. Alex and I became speed packers but because I had less belongings and things I actually wanted to take with me, I was done long before he was. I stacked the boxes in my room after a mere 2 hours of frantic packing, making a stack that resembled the leaning tower of Pisa. If only, I thought.

"Alex? Better move it along." I advised, noticing the time. It was only 8:30, yet Mother was known to come home early if she had been kicked out the bar or run out of money to gamble. Alex shouted out to me in a frantic voice, "I know!" I ran into the kitchen with a cardboard box, also feeling rushed. I searched through the cupboards and drawers of the poky kitchen in search of things I might need.

It was known to both Alex and I that Mother didn't cook. The utensils, measuring cups, beaters and frying pans were all for show; they may as well be pathetic decorations. I didn't take everything, knowing it would alarm Mother and give her more reason to hate us and therefore hunt us down. Don't get me wrong, I already knew she would be absolutely furious and do anything to try to stop us from leaving, but by taking something that 'belonged' to her would make her seething with unspeakable fury.

I pulled out bowls, mismatched cutlery and anything else I knew she wouldn't notice gone. I didn't feel bad taking what she didn't use or wouldn't need. It was essentially 'rehousing' and god knows we needed it more than she did. Cutlery wouldn't be missed, mother would continue to use the little red plastic spoons from KFC rather than a piece of stainless steel. To be honest, I had bought a lot of this myself. When Mother tried to cook and be a proper 'mother' to Alex, she insisted I go and buy her what she needed; a measuring jug, a frying pan, a pot. Each time she damnded, I had to dip into my own savings and buy it for her, not refusing out of fear. It wasn't just kitchen things either. Sometimes I was ordered to go out and buy Mother dinner, or what she needed from the shop; soap, pantyhose, and even one time, a whole roast turkey she planned to pull off as her own to impress Alex.

I smiled, feeling like I was revenging all of these times and money lost as I pulled another bowl from the cupboard and added it to the already brimming cardboard vessel. I wandered around the house, trying to find anything else that wouldn't be missed or something that I had bought and therefore owned. I found a variety of things that hadn't been touched in years, especially by Mother; blankets and throws, pillows and lamps. By the time I had finished I felt great, filling up three boxes of furnishings that would make our apartment seem more comfortable and homely. Yet a grin could not cease the panicked air about the house.

"Jane!" Alex had shouted out from his room. I ran upstairs with my last box of collected items and went into his room, placing the box down as I saw his stressed face. "Help me!" he pleaded. "Just chuck anything inside the boxes, it doesn't matter now." I nodded and with two people helping we packed faster and more methodically.

But not fast enough. A slammed door downstairs and a loud bang that drifted up the stairs made us stop in our tracks.

Mother.

Alex slowly and carefully placed down what he was packing and stood up, careful not to creak any of the old floorboards. He had a look of pure terror plastered onto his face, which kept alternating between worry and fear. He tried to move stealthily towards his bedroom door to close it, letting us be safe in the comfort of his room. But as he delicately stepped over a cardboard box, the lid of the box nicked the top of his toe. It sent his sprawling forwards to the ground, landing with a large thump as his elbow came into contact with the wooden floor not protected by the small blue rug beneath him. If it had been in any other circumstances, I would've laughed so hard I could've have an aneurism. Yet this was no laughing matter as we heard stumbling drunken steps coming up the stairs.

Alex froze and tried to stay as quiet as possible, but luck was not on our side. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. As Alex sat on the ground, his phone was ringing and vibrating against the floor. The footsteps got faster. Alex fumbled to turn his phone off. The footsteps got faster. He tried to close the door. The footsteps got faster.

The footsteps stopped.

Mother stood before us; staring, glaring. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the boxes and Alex's belongings strewn all over the floor, and in boxes. "Where do you think you're going?" She asked. Mother was trying to hold back her anger for Alex, seeing as he was her favourite. Alex panicked and started to stumble and stutter his words. "I ah, I am ah I - I - I-" he couldn't say it, because when it came right down to it, even if he was a grown man he was still terrified of his 'Ma'.

"We're leaving." I said bluntly, causing Alex to stare at me as if I had gone absolutely mad. "Like hell you are!" she shouted at a level only a drunk person could shout at. "You're not going anywhere!" Mother took a threatening step forwards, towards me. Alex remained in his frozen state, still on the ground and at Mother's feet. "Yes, we are." I told her, trying to fight through her drunken state to convince her we were really leaving.

She took another step forward.

"You're not leaving! I gave you everything, I gave you life! You think I'm just going to stand here and let you walk out that door? Like I mean nothing to you? First it was your father, now it's my own children! No! You're not leaving!" Mother flashed a look of vulnerability and sadness when she talked about her abandonment issues, but it was replace with a familiar look of fury.

She took another step forward.

Mother now stood a few inches from me, I could smell the alcohol on her breathe and the cigarette smoke that clung to her clothes. "It was your own fault Dad left, if you hadn't cheated then maybe he would still be here!" I was bold to shout back at her, and Alex now stood behind her miming for me to stop talking. But I wasn't done. "Life? You gave me life? Are you serious? Every day since I was born, you've always despised me. You've found ways to punish me that no child, let alone an adult should have to experience. Life? When I leave, that's when I have life. Not here in this prison, this torture chamber! This-"

As expected, Mother wasn't going to stand there and take the insults from me. To be honest, I should've expected it. But before Alex could do anything, she had picked up her clenched fist that was dangling at her side and sent it right for my cheek, just below the bone. I heard an unnatural crunch, yet I didn't know if it was her or me. A pain like wildfire spread and radiated out from my cheek, causing my legs to buckle. I fell to the floor and bent over, I was crouched over on my hands and knees on the wooden floor of Alex's room.

"You ungrateful bitch!" she roared. "You ugly whore! How dare you say that to me!? I am your Mother!"

I knew this would be the last time I had to face my mother, there was no way I was going down without a fight. "You're no Mother," I simply said and spat out a mouthful of blood onto her shoes, surprised a tooth hadn't come with the glob. She stared for a minute in disbelief at my sudden confidence before she composed herself and the kick I had anticipated finally struck a blow to my abdomen. Kick after kick after kick. I had to wonder where Alex was or what he was doing at that moment, yet my mind kept coming back to the unbearable pain as I squeezed my eyes shut.

The kicking stopped, but not before one last terrifying blow that had me gasping for a simple breath. The screaming began. "Let go of me Alex! You're on my side! You know what she's like!" she shouted loudly, louder than before. "Yes Ma, I do know what she's like. But you obviously don't!" I opened my eyes slightly to look through a tiny slit, just in time to see Alex throw my mother to the floor and struggle with her. It was going against a lot of what he believed in, hurting his own Ma like that. But he knew it had to be done. He grabbed, from what I could see, a belt from one of the clothes boxes now fallen sideways and used it to strap my Mother up to the leg of his bed. She fought and fought, and screamed and shouted yet Alex was stronger. His athletic build kept her down and got her strapped to the bed quite easily, her hands now a bright red colour as blood struggled to flow to her hands.

She thrashed so much in protest that she threw her head back and hit the edge of the main body of the bed. I guess in her highly intoxicated state, it didn't take much to knock her out and after a mere few seconds she had slumped her head forward like a young newborn and was out cold. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as the pain brought my attention back to where I was, lying on the floor.

"Jane!" Alex flustered and frantically came over to me, bending down on his knees. "I'm so sorry! I called for help, Joe should be here soon." Joe? Oh right, moving out. I was fading, and fast and my attention span and memory was lacking. Black specks on my vision morphed into blobs and I felt more and more lightheaded as the pain continued to throb through my middle. "Don't fall asleep Jane! Stay awake. Why did you have to provoke her like that? You knew what would happen!" he rebuked. The blobs were growing bigger and merging with other blobs as I failed to hold onto consciousness. Yet, before I felt myself slipping from reality and losing grip on my surroundings I simply told him,

"It was worth it."

-

JOE'S POINT OF VIEW

I had willingly agreed to help Alex and Jane move out, and knowing their difficult situation I would do anything to get them out of their mother's care and her home. I was hanging out with Wes and catching up on lost years before I needed to be at Jane's, you know how guys hang out; watch the game, order pizza and talk about girls. I had just taken a bite of my second slice of pizza when my phone started to buzz. Somehow, I just knew. I could feel it in my bones. I knew there was trouble. First of all, I was expecting a call for a pick up yet not this soon. Secondly, it was Alex calling me and not Jane.

My stomach dropped and I was grateful I hadn't eaten much pizza yet as fear and worry settled in. I quickly flipped open my phone and pasted it to my ear as I walked around Wes' flat with purpose, trying to find my keys and wallet. I didn't have the chance to even greet Alex, as I heard shouting and screaming, and possibly sobbing from the other end. "Help!" Alex cried frantically into the phone, he was on the verge of a panic attack and was most likely already in tears.

"I'm on my way." I assured him, trying to give him some sort of strength. I hung up without a reply, not wanting to waste any time. I found my keys and took a deep breath as I stalked towards the door, trying to keep my nerves under control for the sake of my driving ability. "Where're you going man?" I heard Wes call out, watching me leave his house. I simply said one word which I hoped would explain everything and he'd understand my sudden absence.

"Jane."

Thoughts raced through my mind as I turned down street after street and sped down the main road, oblivious to other drivers sharing the road and the trailer attached to the tow bar of my car. The main thought that popped into my head and I knew would plague me for months to come was: what if something bad happened? Already I knew it was serious, the shouting, screaming and sobbing being a clear give away. But without an explanation from Alex, I was left driving in a silent car with thoughts attacking each lobe of my brain. I knew I would always remember this situation, if not for Jane but for myself. Thoughts everywhere, left, right and centre. Coming at me from all directions.

What happened?

How did it happen?

Is she okay?

I knew I wouldn't be completely sure and calmed from this rampage, until I had walked through her front door and saw her with my own eyes and a reassurance that she was okay. I pulled up to her house with enough speed I almost crashed into the car in front. Parking haphazardly I sprinted up to where I heard a soft sobbing noise and pleas for someone to wake up. I walked into what I assumed what Alex's room after following the sobs and wanted to leave immediately. Not because of the complete chaos, but the scene I had walked in on was something I didn't want to see ever again. There was crimson blood splattered on the floor, surrounded by strewn clothes and other belongings of Alex's. But worst of all was a middle aged woman, whose thick greyish mane was covering her face and whose hands were tied to the bed with a thick brown leather belt, she was unconscious.

I almost stepped out as it all became too overwhelming, but I stopped. As Alex moved as he turned and saw me I noticed Jane. She was on the floor in a foetal position, as if she had been hugging her knees or stomach before she lost her sense of reality. "Joe! Help!" Alex panicked as he tried roughly shaking Jane awake. I bent down on my knees, forgetting about the blood splattered on the floor, and gasped. Alex stopped shaking her and watched my reaction.

Jane had blood spilling from a cut on her lip and a deep purple bruise on her cheek was almost disguised by the red welt that surrounded it. Her eyelids, almost completely motionless and still white as snow, contrasted to the pinkness of her cheek bones. While in her worst state, Jane was still a beauty that took my breath away. Tears sprung to my eyes as seeing anyone in this state, let alone Jane, is upsetting for any person. That's what I told myself anyway. "What happened?" I demanded from Alex, trying to snap him from his panicked state and wipe away my own tears. He said nothing at first, simply pointing at his motionless mother strapped to the wire frame of his bed.

"Jane provoked her and she let loose! Kicking, screaming, punching. Oh god. Help her Joe!" Alex had calmed enough to tell me what happened, but reverted back as soon as he saw my face drop and my brow scrunch with pure worry. "Everything's okay Alex, Jane will be fine. She's tough." I reassured him. "But I need to know, did she pass out from a hit to the head? Or because the pain was too much?" I interrogated him calmly, attempting to get a reasonable answer from him.

"I think it was the pain, I was tying her up when I turned to see her, her eyes started to close." I nodded and told him Jane would be fine and it couldn't be too serious. I had noticed she was still breathing and her breaths didn't seem too laboured. Yet as I looked towards the beautiful girl splayed out on the frozen wooden floors, I prayed she would be okay.

It was then that I knew. I really knew. I couldn't stand seeing her like that again and I yearned for her safety and happiness; something that could only be given through deep feelings for another person. She was the one I had to have in my life, yet mostly for my own selfish reasons. If not for her wellbeing, but for my mental wellbeing too. I'd get Jane, even if it were the last thing I'd do. Forget about the strict teacher and student relationship and give her everything she'd ever need or ever dreamed of. I'd take care of her and wait until she was ready.

I wanted to hold her in my arms and patch up the hole she has in her heart, as she would do the same to mine. I wanted to lay with her on a lazy Sunday afternoon on the porch in the comforting sun, while we each held each others hand and prayed the moment would never end. I wanted to see her for who she really is, and not see the person that hides behind the facade. I wanted Jane.

I needed Jane.

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