Delinquent Camp

Chapter Seventeen

            Seventeen

            “What the hell are you doing here?” I snap, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The last thing, the very last thing I want, is to see Kirsten.

            “I thought we could catch up.” She grins, but there’s no joy in it. Instead it’s full of threats. “But first I have to ask you something.”

            I set my coffee on a nearby dresser and take a few wary steps away from her. Kirsten is like a ticking time bomb; you never know when she’s going to go off or what she’s going to do.

            “Ask me what?” I pray that my father will be home soon. Surely he didn’t know she would be coming home. He wouldn’t; he couldn’t put me through this after what I just faced.

            Kirsten takes a step towards me, looking down as she meets my gaze. “Who are you right now, Gemma?” She asks, a smirk on her lips. “Are you the part that lets everything out? Or the part that doesn’t remember?”

            I give her a confused expression. “What are you talking about?”

            “Ah,” she replies, nodding her head as she studies me. “I know which one you are right now. Poor, poor little Gemma.”

            “Get the fuck out of my room,” I scream, not wanting to be around her anymore. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I do know you’re not supposed to be here! If you don’t leave right now, I’ll call my dad, and then the cops!”

            Kirsten starts laughing before brushing past me and out of my room. She makes a big scene, bumping my cast and I’m thankful that it’s not painful. I spin as she leaves, but when she’s out, she turns around to face me.

            “Maybe you should look under your bed, Gemma. Then maybe you’ll remember.”

            When I hear the front door click shut as Kirsten leaves, I finally move and let out a loud sigh. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but knowing her, she’s just trying to play mind games with me. She’s always done that. I remember right after the accident happened she tried to even make me take my own life by telling me that it’s not going to get better.

            Obviously I didn’t. But what kind of step-mom does that? The bitch kind.

            Knowing she’s trying to play mind games, I refuse to do as she says and look under my bed. Whatever is there, she’s put just to make me angry and upset. For a while I try to distract myself with TV, drawing, and anything else I can think of. But eventually, I make my way back to my bedroom. This is exactly what Kirsten planned. She knows I won’t be able to resist what’s waiting for me.

            Chewing on my bottom lip, I climb down to my knees and bend over. Looking under, at first I don’t see anything. But after a few moments, I spot it in the far corner. It takes crawling all the way under my bed for me to reach it, and when I do, I realize that it’s a paper-sized brown envelope.

            Confused, I plop down on my bed and open the unsealed paper. I feel almost the same way as I did when my mother wrote me, but I push the thought to the back of my mind. The last thing I want to think of is being reunited with her.

            Pulling it open with my fingers, I look inside the envelope to find a bunch papers. At first I’m confused when I take them out, but when I see them, my mouth falls open and they fall onto my lap.