Sequel: Ella's New Sound ›
Status: In process of name changing. If you would like to continue reading, go ahead and do so. Names: Ray=Marcus Gerard=Alex Mikey=Mitch and Frank=Freddy
Mary without Sound
Intro: My lost sound
“I need to go see him.” I was looking at the road. The thought of my older brother B.J. having cancer and in a hospital made me go crazy.
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Times changed when my mom died of cancer 13 years ago, when our family started breaking up.
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“Daddy, where are you going?” I asked looking up at the scruffy man at the door wearing his Hurly coat and the car keys in his hand. He turned and looked at me; his beard was dirty and uncombed. He knelt down to me and put his hand on my face.
“Don’t worry Angel; daddy will be home by the time you wake up. Be sure to have Billy Joe put you to sleep.” He said as he kissed my forehead, and then walked away from my life for the last time.
“When’s daddy coming home?” I’d ask B.J. as he held my tinny 5-year-old hand. We walked up to his room. Every time when dad left the house, B.J. would take me up to his room and “play house”. Of course I didn’t know then that the way he touched me was bad. That he raped me every night while dad went to go get drunk. B.J. is 8 years older than me and little did I know I was his toy.
“I dunno sis. He said he’d be home by morning at the least.” He answered and closed the door behind me. I looked at him as he kissed my neck. He started undressing me, taking off my pants. I wanted to run. I didn’t like playing this game of his. But I was 5 and I had no strength to push him away. I knew what we were doing by this point; I wasn’t as stupid as he thought.
“No! Get off me, please Billy. I want to go to bed. I’m tired and I don’t want to do this.” I squeaked as he pulled off my shirt.
“Come on Mary, this is fun. Don’t you think so?”
“No. Now get off me, please.” I cried.
I scrambled to get up but he just pushed me back down. I sat up and looked at him. I looked him in the eye. I saw fire. Fire that I didn’t want to ever see again. He stood up naked and I knew that I had to get away.
“Who the hell do you think you’re messing with Mary? Now lay back down or else.” He threatened.
“Or else what? You’ll tell on me? Or how about I do this,” and I stood up and kicked him in the leg as hard as I could. I ran over to the desk where Billy kept mommy’s old candleholders. I grabbed the biggest one I could hold and swung it at him. I hit his shoulder; blood was running down his arm as he fell to the floor. This gave me enough time to put my shirt on and ran as far as possible. I grab my kindergarten backpack that was by my door next to Billie’s room and ran down the stairs before he was able to catch me.
I ran out the door and fell flat on my face on the concrete steps. I stood up, trying not to cry, and I kept running. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. I turned the corner and I ran to a house when I knew my brother was far enough from me to hide. I ran to a house on the end of a cul-de-sac and up the porch steps. I started banging on a door crying so hard I couldn’t scream. Finally some lights came on and a boy about 2 years older then me opened the door. 3 other guys were in the back and a woman about in her late 20’s. I fell to the floor, face scratched up and everything. I didn’t know what to do then. I started to cry harder, unable to open my eyes because they’re full of tears and blood.
“Help me, please.” I squeaked. A woman ran over to me and picked me up. “I need help. My…my brother…I need to hide…please…please help me.”
“Uh, mommy, I think we should help her.” The boy who answered the door said looking up at her. The woman looked at me, and took me in. that night I found my new home, my new home with Marcus Leon.
---------------------------------------------------
Times changed when my mom died of cancer 13 years ago, when our family started breaking up.
----------------------------------------------------
“Daddy, where are you going?” I asked looking up at the scruffy man at the door wearing his Hurly coat and the car keys in his hand. He turned and looked at me; his beard was dirty and uncombed. He knelt down to me and put his hand on my face.
“Don’t worry Angel; daddy will be home by the time you wake up. Be sure to have Billy Joe put you to sleep.” He said as he kissed my forehead, and then walked away from my life for the last time.
“When’s daddy coming home?” I’d ask B.J. as he held my tinny 5-year-old hand. We walked up to his room. Every time when dad left the house, B.J. would take me up to his room and “play house”. Of course I didn’t know then that the way he touched me was bad. That he raped me every night while dad went to go get drunk. B.J. is 8 years older than me and little did I know I was his toy.
“I dunno sis. He said he’d be home by morning at the least.” He answered and closed the door behind me. I looked at him as he kissed my neck. He started undressing me, taking off my pants. I wanted to run. I didn’t like playing this game of his. But I was 5 and I had no strength to push him away. I knew what we were doing by this point; I wasn’t as stupid as he thought.
“No! Get off me, please Billy. I want to go to bed. I’m tired and I don’t want to do this.” I squeaked as he pulled off my shirt.
“Come on Mary, this is fun. Don’t you think so?”
“No. Now get off me, please.” I cried.
I scrambled to get up but he just pushed me back down. I sat up and looked at him. I looked him in the eye. I saw fire. Fire that I didn’t want to ever see again. He stood up naked and I knew that I had to get away.
“Who the hell do you think you’re messing with Mary? Now lay back down or else.” He threatened.
“Or else what? You’ll tell on me? Or how about I do this,” and I stood up and kicked him in the leg as hard as I could. I ran over to the desk where Billy kept mommy’s old candleholders. I grabbed the biggest one I could hold and swung it at him. I hit his shoulder; blood was running down his arm as he fell to the floor. This gave me enough time to put my shirt on and ran as far as possible. I grab my kindergarten backpack that was by my door next to Billie’s room and ran down the stairs before he was able to catch me.
I ran out the door and fell flat on my face on the concrete steps. I stood up, trying not to cry, and I kept running. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. I turned the corner and I ran to a house when I knew my brother was far enough from me to hide. I ran to a house on the end of a cul-de-sac and up the porch steps. I started banging on a door crying so hard I couldn’t scream. Finally some lights came on and a boy about 2 years older then me opened the door. 3 other guys were in the back and a woman about in her late 20’s. I fell to the floor, face scratched up and everything. I didn’t know what to do then. I started to cry harder, unable to open my eyes because they’re full of tears and blood.
“Help me, please.” I squeaked. A woman ran over to me and picked me up. “I need help. My…my brother…I need to hide…please…please help me.”
“Uh, mommy, I think we should help her.” The boy who answered the door said looking up at her. The woman looked at me, and took me in. that night I found my new home, my new home with Marcus Leon.