X. Trapped

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Melaina left early enough to make the bus the next morning, which would likely be the highlight of her day.

The skies cried continuously throughout the day. Mel trudged around in her purple All Time Low hoodie.

Most students hung their raincoats and jackets on the hook in the back of the classroom so they could dry, but Mel left hers on. The classroom was too chilly from the window in the corner not shutting correctly.

Mel slid into her seat beside Alice in art class. Jasper sat on the end, between the window and his girlfriend.

"Morning, Mel," Alice chirped. Her voice was way too chipper for the drab school setting. The pixie launched into a monologue about some Vogue article, and Mel held in a sigh of exasperation.

Melaina had a tough time believing that anyone genuinely liked her existence.

Her father had bailed after seeing one too many double pink lines confirming the conception of his firstborn. She was a mistake between her parents, she knew. Her sperm donor of a father left, and since her young mother was not financially stable, she turned to a man of wealth. He became her stepdad and the nightmare of Mel's dreams and reality.

To start, Jeremy Jackson was no good with children, as was evident in Melaina's harsh upbringing.

Her stepdad was an angry man with a need for control. He often screamed to the point where Mel would hide in her tiny closet, shaking and crying in fear. She developed forms of anxiety from the continuous abuse, including PTSD and generalized anxiety. Only her school counselor in middle school was aware of her mental illness. She hated to talk about her weakness.

Whenever someone would speak in the tone that her stepdad used in anger, it would trigger flashbacks that sent Mel right back to the days of desperately pushing her bed in front of her bedroom door to avoid her stepdad's physical fury.

For years, Mel wrote dark poems, listened to sad songs, and sketched depressing pictures--but soon it wasn't enough to release what couldn't be said. Her feelings and secrets smothered her from the inside out.

Pain, anger, and hopelessness were the most prominent dark elements in her mind. She found a stronger release in the form of self-harm.

With every cut to her pale skin, her concentration was focused on the blood and she could breathe again. One kind of pain from her to push away the other pain from him.

A cold hand on her arm brought Mel stumbling back to reality. Alice was looking at her with an expectant look on her face.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mel asked sheepishly. The babble of students sounded behind her, lockers slammed, and Alice repeated, "Shopping. Do you want to go to the mall tonight?"

To further contrast herself from other girls her age, Mel did not get much joy from shopping. Besides, she was extremely cautious on how much money she spent on her credit card. She didn't want her stepdad to remember that her mother had linked Mel's account to his, which was how she bought her hair dye.

"I can't tonight. I'm sorry." Alice's face fell slightly. "But thank you for the offer, it was kind," Mel added. A pit of sadness nestled into her stomach, but she forced the feeling away.

Mel caught Jasper looking at her and quickly turned her gaze to the paint-splattered table in front of them. He didn't know her; she didn't want him to look at her with knowing, pity-filled eyes. She worked on her new sculpture in silence.

~*~

Obnoxiously loud and unpredictable in a predictable way, drunk people scared the living daylights out of Melaina.

Jeremy had over his coworker friends from the casino, and they were partying like college kids at nine on a Thursday--except that it was three o'clock on a Wednesday.

Mel hefted her bag higher on her shoulders and rushed upstairs before her father's work buddies could catch sight of her. She twisted the lock after slamming her bedroom door closed. She sucked in a breath of air.

There was a time when the Jackson house smelled of hazelnut coffee and fresh apple pie, but it was replaced with his beer and her tears. Home, sweet home, Melaina thought bitterly.

Footsteps thumped across the hall towards her room and a rusty voice spoke to her through the door, "Hey, sugar. You don't want to play today?" Mel doubted the man meant the card game Uno.

"No, Simon. I have homework," she said through clenched teeth. She didn't want to respond at all, but Jeremy made her play nice with his friends from the casino or else there would be worse punishments.

He pounded on the door anyways. "Come on out, little Mellie." Mel winced at the horrendously childlike nickname.

Another voice joined Simon in the hallway. Jeremy banged on her door with more gusto than his friend. "Melaina, get your ass out here. You're being rude to our guests."

"I have homework, dad," Mel tried weakly.

Like when she was younger, he threatened, "Don't make me count to three." With those six words, Mel felt four-years-old again, and she hated that her stepdad made her feel that way. "One..."

She feared what would happen as a consequence from his counting. "Two..." Mel unlocked the door with shaking fingers.

Simon grinned wide, showing his yellow teeth under his rough mustache. "There you are, sugar. That wasn't so hard. Now the fun can truly begin."

Mel's stomach flipped with worry. She adjusted her bra where she felt the hilt of her knife securely beneath the cloth. Simon's dark eyes followed the movement of her fingers, and Mel shivered in disgust.

She had no choice but to follow them down to the living room where the other three friends of Jeremy were smoking and laughing loudly.

Mel did her best to stay at least an arm's length from the rowdy men in her house. There were four of them, plus Jeremy, and only one anxious Mel. From the noise level the drunkards emitted, it sounded like five times the people.

She refused to touch a drink, and she kept her back to the wall.

Mel was not a fan of people, drunk people, Jeremy, or drunk Jeremy. She finally escaped around eight when she was the last one standing.

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