Speak To a Girl

Chapter 2

Faith POV: 

I walk in the house, taking a deep breath, and praying he's asleep. I hear a loud slam from the family room in the back of the house, making me jump, and telling me that he is surely awake. He staggers toward the door, his heavy footsteps leaving me shaking in my place. I know better than to run. 

"Audrey Faith... where the fuck have you been?" He growls, his voice booming so loud it hurts my ears. I inhale deeply, letting my mind run through a list of things I could say. 

"I went out with a friend." I answer honestly, watching him nod slowly, thoroughly disappointed in me. 

"Your eye?" He asks, making my stomach ache. I look past his shoulder to see their 'supplies' on the counter. They must be getting high... 

"They were mad that I wanted to go home." I reply, trying to ignore the thought that regardless of what I say, I'm probably going to get hit tonight.  He clenches his jaw shut, looking down at his feet and nodding. 

"Honey, you hear this? Faith got decked." He shouts back to my step-mom in the family room. She lets out a laugh, sounding high already. I feel my heart pound as he grabs my arm and drags me upstairs. He yanks me into my bedroom, before throwing me down on the ground. I stay down for a moment, winded from being thrown down with such force. "Take off your clothes." He orders, choking me mentally. I stand up and stare at him, feeling confused and horrified. 

"What?" I croak out, my throat burning. 

"You seem to take off your clothes for everyone else, so it shouldn't be that big of a deal." He scorns, standing and staring at me. "What are you waiting for?" He chastises. I stand still, before he screams, "Take off your clothes, damnit!" 

I stand, my legs trembling as I let my dress fall to the ground. My underwear is now the only thing covering me. He looks at me from head to toe, as I cover my chest with my arms. I want to burst into tears and fall into a fetal position, but I don't want to let him know his power over me... He always tries this mental warfare, and it honestly works, but I don't want him to know that. 

He grabs my arm and pulls me toward the full length mirror sitting in the corner, positioning me in front of it. He looks at me with complete disgust. He points at the reflection. 

"Look at that... Look at how vile you are... That's what a girl with nothing looks like... That's what a girl with no one looks like." He taunts, my chest growing heavy as I try to avoid looking at myself. "That's what a sad excuse of a woman looks like." He adds, as I try to catch my breath. He slaps my ass, before turning around and walking out,  leaving me standing in front of the mirror. 

In Mississippi, when I was three, I became a ward of the state after my biological father nearly beat his father to death with his own fists... He was eighteen, and my mom was seventeen, meaning he was tried as an adult, and my mom was too young to take care of me. The state of Mississippi put me into foster care, until my mom showed up on three separate occasions demanding they return custody to her now she was of age. So, the state transferred me to Louisiana without notifying her...  

My parents were far to young to have me, but they did really care about me and for me. They were fourteen and fifteen when they actually had me, which is two years younger than I am currently... They were too damn young to be so damn old. Dad made enough for us to move out into an apartment, but we wound up getting evicted a few months later after they learned I had an odd heart defect which cost them a lot in medical bills. 

We moved back home with Dad's parents. One night, he went into my room to check on me and found his father standing over me with the comforters pulled off. My dad pummeled him, punching him nonstop until my mom heard me shout, and rushed in, pulling Dad away from him. He told the court that he believed that his father had molested me, and doctors found evidence that corroborated it, somewhat decreasing his lengthy sentence. He was being tried for Attempted Murder, which would've gotten him life, but in a plea deal, he settled for Aggravated Assault in which he'd serve fifteen years. 

I remember visiting him in jail before the trial, right after Mom learned that she was going to lose me. He kept saying that it was going to be a while until we could see each other again, which makes sense now, but to a four year old , it was insanely cryptic. He doesn't know how losing his cool over one event has led me down to where I am. 

I always wonder what would've happened if he had simply just pulled him away from me... maybe even gave him a shove instead of beating him into a comatose state... 

The next morning, I drive in to let Mack know how I'm doing. He knows how shitty my foster parents are, and tries to help me out however he can. He actually told me to have that guy drop me off at his house, so he and his wife Kim could house me for the night and get me cleaned up, but I hate getting their sympathy. I can go home and suck it up, like I have for the last thirteen years. I walk in and already spot his frown. He's pissed I didn't go, and I know that.

"Morning." I let out, trying to sound upbeat. He crosses his arms, taking a deep breath. "Mack, I'm sorry... I just... I can't avoid him forever." I clarify quietly. He shakes his head and looks into the shop. 

"You can avoid them, I'm telling you right now." He responds quickly. He's always heartbroken over the situation at home. He knows my foster-parents, and knew their parents. Once he heard that they took me in, he made a point of meeting me and being a part of my life to make sure I was taken care of. He has the biggest heart... 

"I'm not going to intrude." I reply, cutting his fantasy that he and Kim can adopt me short. He's been saying that for years, and the state has been telling him that it won't happen for years, because my mom is still out there trying to get custody as well, keeping the adoption window closed. A kid bursts in the waiting room, covered in oil up to his shoulders. 

"The blue VW Bug is done. Just needed a new starter." He lets out, clearing his throat as his eyes rest upon me. He breaks a small smile, leaning against the front desk as he enters our conversation. "Feeling a little better?" He asks positively. I take a deep breath, and force a smile before nodding. 

"Audrey, you should've stayed with us, and you know that. He probably wouldn't have realized that you were gone." Mack releases, as if holding it in any longer would make him burst. Tim looks at Mack, seeming a little confused. He looks at me for an answer. 

"Mack, drop it." I demand, feeling aggravated with this dead end conversation we always seem to have. Mack looks away, and down at his feet, clearly frustrated with me as well. Tim stands cautiously, unsure what he just walked into. 

"What do you want, Tim?" Mack fires, catching Tim off guard. He stands for a moment before shrugging. 

"Just letting you know that the car was done, that's all." He answers adequately. Mack sighs and marches off into the shop, leaving Tim and I standing alone. "He seems like a loose canon today." He remarks, laughing a little bit. Something inside me skips like a broken record as he shoots me a diamond smile, cut just right to make anyone weak at the knees. I freeze, watching his whole face shift into the brightest of smiles at me. It fades slowly, before stopping halfway between smiling and not. 

"Tim!" Mack shouts from the shop, sounding like he's throwing a fit over my dissonance. Tim sighs, and looks back at the shop, leading me to believe we are ending our moment alone and going our separate ways. I walk toward the door, digging for my keys. 

"Audrey!" Tim calls out, making me turn around. He smiles once more as I turn. "Do you want to grab dinner sometime?" He asks, stopping me in my tracks. I stare at him for a moment, feeling like a deer in headlights. There's something about his brown hair, or his warm brown eyes, that is telling me to run. This boy is trouble... 

"Alright."