It was the girl I punched that one time the alley. It was the girl with the blue dashes and the cute smile in my distant memory. (I could never forget her smile.) And in the really pretty dress from my earlier flashback. (She looked amazing in the dress.) Only now, her once beautiful smooth skin was bruised blue and black on her face and the lower part of her arms. Her body was mostly covered; she seemed scared and alert. She wore a long sleeve shirt and jeans that were a little too big for her tiny body. She was with a fat black girl who was much younger, maybe elementary school. They held papers and tacks. They both had two braids on the sides of their heads that shaped their faces. They looked like sisters.
"AH!" The waves came again. The braids brought back another memory and it lasted longer. The girl was sitting with me in the dark. She seemed much younger and smaller, maybe five or six. Orange light reflected on her face, now a few shades lighter. She was smiling at me again as she bit a fluffy s'more. The white marshmallow fuzzed at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were as bright as ever. "Can you sing me a song on the guitar?" Her high pitched voice asked.
Surely enough, an acoustic guitar rest in my lap and I was positioned to play.
"What do you want to hear?" My voice was ten times higher (I guess I sounded like a chipmunk when I was a kid. I'm so glad puberty happened.)
"Anything! I just like camp songs."
"Okay." And I started strumming.
The image was sucked away as quickly as she devoured her s'more and I was plopped back into reality. But it was the same girl right in front of me, no doubt about it. We'd known each other for a long time then.
She hammered in the paper and walked away once it was tacked. I wanted her to see me. I wanted to remember her clearly. So badly. Whenever I thought about her a warm feeling washed over me (you know, besides the seizing, and clenching, and spitting, it was a very pleasant feeling). I looked at the sign. It read:
BAN JIM CROW!
THE TIME IS NOW!
Johnny turned to see where I was looking. He stopped mid breath. He tensed. I guess he was nervous about me seeing her again, too. I mean, so would I if I just got through ripping her to shreds and then see her up and about. It was like seeing a ghost. The chubby one turned around. Her eyes widened in fear. She tugged on my girl's--
My girl? Karen's my girl, isn't she? I'm with Karen, she's with me. Glad I straightened that out. Okay, continue.
She tugged on the older girl's shirt. From the distance, I saw her eyes light up. They dulled as soon as she saw Johnny. I didn't blame her; her face screamed leave before I actually kill you this time. Her growing smile scowled instantly. She said something and left the young girl behind. She came towards us.
"Did you give it to him?" She said so coldly I shivered. Her braids went down to her waist. My stomach turned as I felt another wave. I swallowed it down.
"No," Johnny said defiantly. "There is nothing you can do about it either."
She slapped him and left a small, hand-sized mark. He lunged. I used all my strength to pull him back. What's her problem? Who does she think she is?
"God, that felt good." She smiled wickedly. "Two things. One, you're a fucking dipshit. And two," she looked me up and down, "I hope you're having the time of your life with this... child molester."
My sudden anger towards her faltered for two reasons.
#1. "Child molester? What the hell is she talking about, Johnny?" I looked to him. He was struggling in my grasp so I let him go. Red blotched his cheeks from the effort (I got a good death grip). His breath was shallow and his thick eyebrows scrunched. Deep rumbles came from his chest. I knew his father was abusive to his mother. That's why he was always so... aggressive to girls. He didn't really like them, just their bodies and that bothered me a lot. (You'd be surprised at how much William knew and how much he'd share when he's tired or stressed or ranting or all three. Quite entertaining and more informative than any history book.)
#2. It didn't feel right to be mad at her of all people. She was beautiful for one thing I automatically felt guilty targeting her. (It'd be like yelling at a puppy. Everyone would hate you afterward and then you'd feel the silent rage from everyone for the rest of your existence. (Maybe not that long but you get my point.)) And the connection I felt before was there. That warm fuzzy feeling deep down was super excited and I just wanted to give her a big hug (but you know, in a manly way). That night I was hesitant for a reason. I knew that she meant something. Anything. And I keep remembering things about her that were intimate. We were close. Not defending Johnny was only half of my apology. I just hoped she noticed it.
I spun Johnny around to face me. My nails dug into his letterman jacket. "What is she talking about, Johnny?"
"Nothing. Why do you think this slut is telling the truth?"
I took another look at her. Her honey eyes, flecked with blue and green (in their respective eyes: blue for her right eye and green for her left) were clouded with revenge, but there was still fear. She was still afraid of Johnny after all of these weeks, I mean, she knew what he could do to her. She felt first hand the power he had. She also knew what I could do. The guilt flooded me once again.
"Why would she lie? You nearly killed her." I shot back. Wherever I came from, I know I hated liars. And I remembered too much about her for her to be a liar or else she wouldn't have been in my life at all.
"Look at her!" He yelled and pointed in her face. Her dark skin contorted, her plump, thick lips turned down so much I thought they'd fall off. "She's up to no good. They all are!" He caught me off guard and ran to the tree. He ripped off the poster as if it proved his point.
"Hey!" She stepped on his foot but quickly looked like she regretted it. He doubled over. "That's mine. And you don't touch my stuff!" She growled. She spun on me. "I can't believe you'd hang with him." She spat out "him" like it was painful. "He's been fooling with Althea for months Jordan. He changes the way he looks so he's a different man to her every time. A little girl!" She kneed him. "You saw it a couple of weeks ago with me." Pinch. "Why wouldn't he go after a helpless little girl who doesn't know what's going on or anyone else like us?" She pointed to the chubby girl, her voice shook.
I don't know why, but I believed her. Johnny was just like his father, only worse. He was definitely filthy, he was the monster William was afraid of becoming even though he would never take advantage of a young girl. That was the difference between the two: William was in love and Johnny... You know what? I'm not even gonna with Johnny. He was too far gone. Little girls literally didn't ask for him and certainly didn't deserve to be used by a grown man like Johnny. The thought gave me chills.
"I hope you go to hell for this." She said. My stomach clenched. Another wave shocked me like never before. I couldn't even scream. I dropped at her feet, clawing at the grass. My head burned. Tears welled up.
Another round down memory lane.
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YOU ARE READING
Broken
General Fiction"What year is it?" "1955." "Thank you." I turned around, my fears confirmed. I understood why the world seemed so different now. So hostile towards me for no reason. I was black. I was a girl. I was in rags. And it was 1955. ...
