Sang's Freedom (Original And Rewritten)

17

-Chapter 17-

Sang Sorenson's POV:

Mother stood in our entryway with her arms crossed. She was swaying slightly, and I knew in an instant that she wasn't all there. "You're late." Her voice was like gravel and her brown hair was yanked back into a severe bun which sat on the crown of her head.

She wore no make-up and her nails were jagged from incessant biting.

"I'm early, actually. The bus hasn't even come yet."

"And just how did you get home early? Skipping school now? Your principal gave me a call. He says you're making trouble."

My blood went cold. "I'm not making trouble. I'm laying low. I'm being quiet, just like you told me to. I'm not making friends. I'm being good."

Good. Ha. How convincing was that lie?

Not very, I realized as Mother's lips twisted in distain. "In the kitchen. Now."

I followed meekly. At least she didn't know about the boys. Or the cell phone.

I watched as mother went into the cupboard for the box of rice. At least she was going easy on me today. For some reason I was worried that if Dr. Green found another bruise on my body he wouldn't keep quiet.

He didn't understand that we couldn't get the police involved. I couldn't be taken away. There were worse things than kneeling on rice. And that was the truth of it.

Sure there were good people who did foster care, Mother told me, but there were also the people who violated the children in their care. The ones who starved them and berated them and locked them in teeny tiny closets for days without light.

I was never starved or touched sexually.

I could handle a bit of rice and some bruised ribs.

The dried granules sounded like rain on the tile floor of our kitchen as mother ordered me to my knees.

They dug into my skin, but it always took a few minutes before my knees started to hurt. At our last home, the floors had been linoleum and there had been some give if I had kneeled long enough, but not now.

"Sang." My mother's voice was sharp in the kitchen, echoing almost. I could hear the front door open and close and the sound of Marie's quick footsteps heading up to her room. "Tell me again that you're being good."

"I'm being good." I was, wasn't I? There was nothing really wrong with my relationship with the boys. Plenty of girls were friends with boys. Plenty of girls were allowed friends in general. Even Marie had friends.

My knees were starting to feel an aching pressure where the rice was digging in. I tried not to imagine the rice burying itself into my skin and healing over so that little lumps of rice would be able to be seen in the healed wounds of my knees.

"You start fights at school and now the principal is speaking with your father. That's not good. You're an ungrateful little brat trying to uproot this family again. We should have gotten rid of you when we had the chance.

Mother paced in front of me, brown eyes in a fog as her lips tilted into a long smile. "You think you're so smart, don't you Sang? You think you can get away with anything just by looking at someone with those big green eyes. Not in my house."