I'll Tell You My Story, If You Promise Not to Tell
Traumatic Memories
Jenna gleefully strode into the classroom, automatically pulling her papers out.
She sat for a minute reading what she already had.
The pointed graphite touched the paper.
"There were many times when experiences like the one when I was six reoccured. Once, he almost broke my left arm and cut me so badly I needed stitches. He tells brillant lies, and told the doctors the tragic tale of how I fells down the stairs and ripped my leg open on a nail.
It was very convincing. Just like when I "fell off my bike", causing me to have cuts,bruises, and the unfortunate broken collarbone.
One night, he came home drunk, as always. I was unsuspecting when he barged into my room. I was reading a book called "A Little Princess", when he hit me in the back of the head. One of his favorite tactics is to kick me in the ribs and stomach. I stood trying to run from the room, preferably to the outdoors, but her grabbed my arm. He twisted it until it cracked and hurt so much, I thought it broke.
I fell down on the floor, curling up and cradling my throbbing limb, when he screamed "That hurt you? Oh stop the damn crying or I'll give you a reason to cry!"
He whipped out a razorblade and slashed at my shoulder, and blood squeezed out of the space in a rush. It only made my tears flow more quickly. I sat staring at the flowing red liquid.
"Clean this f*cking mess up!" He said angrily, as if I wasn't supposed to bleed.
I didn't really consciously notice him storm out, I just stared at the spreading puddle until I slipped from consciousness.
When I woke up, I had the worst, sharpest pain in my head. I looked and saw my arm, caked in dried blood. There was so much.
I could tell you all the times things like these happened, but I dont have the time, nor do you. But you understand what I face almost daily."
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bell rang. Thankfully, I was the only one there so I handed my story to Mr. J.
"Its not long but it gives you an idea"I said motioning to the papers. "I don't really want to write too much more, considering this is the third time I've stayed after and my dad's already pissed at me."
He nodded without much of an expression.
"OK, you dont have to keep writing."
"I could like...keep a journal or something. Not really a journal but something to keep track and tell you about something more recent than two years ago."I paused
"That would be nice" He seemed more to be humoring me in speaking because he was staring at the papers.
The bell rang.
"Bye" OK...so he's already busy reading it...
Mr. J's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I started reading the story soon after she gave it to me.
I have seen her first grade pictures, how could someone hurt such an adorable child? or even any child?
Beating a six year old child makes almost as much sense as Michael Jackson not being in jail.
And still hurting her.
After reading all of her papers and stories, I'm not sure how long I can keep my promise.
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Its bitingly cold today. The wind blows, and it feels like my face is being gnawed on.
My hair is pulled in a few directions but the whipping winds eventually slowed. When I was in view of my house, my heart dropped when I saw that Dad was home.
I walked in, he was sitting at the table with coffee.
"Where were you?" he said darkly.
"I had to stay after again" Well, its not like I'm lying.
"Why?"
"I forgot my homework" Lies, lies. Good thing I'm not religious.
"But you didn't have any"
"Thats what I thought." Well, lie number 2. I hate lying but I learned if its necessary, don't hold back.
"Have you told your teacher anything?"
"No, of course not." #3...yet its more of a half truth. He's the one that figured it out. And even though I told him a lot, technically I wrote it.
"Mmm...I think you're lying."
"No." I said a little loudly. "I'm not."
He flung the contents of the cup at me, burning my skin. How could anyone drink something so hot? I flinched.
"Consider yourself warned..." he said, followed by his famous line: " Clean this mess up." He stalked from the room.
I got up, first wiping my face with a wad of paper towels, then my shirt, which was luckily black, so it wouldn't stain.
Then I wiped the floor and wall.
She sat for a minute reading what she already had.
The pointed graphite touched the paper.
"There were many times when experiences like the one when I was six reoccured. Once, he almost broke my left arm and cut me so badly I needed stitches. He tells brillant lies, and told the doctors the tragic tale of how I fells down the stairs and ripped my leg open on a nail.
It was very convincing. Just like when I "fell off my bike", causing me to have cuts,bruises, and the unfortunate broken collarbone.
One night, he came home drunk, as always. I was unsuspecting when he barged into my room. I was reading a book called "A Little Princess", when he hit me in the back of the head. One of his favorite tactics is to kick me in the ribs and stomach. I stood trying to run from the room, preferably to the outdoors, but her grabbed my arm. He twisted it until it cracked and hurt so much, I thought it broke.
I fell down on the floor, curling up and cradling my throbbing limb, when he screamed "That hurt you? Oh stop the damn crying or I'll give you a reason to cry!"
He whipped out a razorblade and slashed at my shoulder, and blood squeezed out of the space in a rush. It only made my tears flow more quickly. I sat staring at the flowing red liquid.
"Clean this f*cking mess up!" He said angrily, as if I wasn't supposed to bleed.
I didn't really consciously notice him storm out, I just stared at the spreading puddle until I slipped from consciousness.
When I woke up, I had the worst, sharpest pain in my head. I looked and saw my arm, caked in dried blood. There was so much.
I could tell you all the times things like these happened, but I dont have the time, nor do you. But you understand what I face almost daily."
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bell rang. Thankfully, I was the only one there so I handed my story to Mr. J.
"Its not long but it gives you an idea"I said motioning to the papers. "I don't really want to write too much more, considering this is the third time I've stayed after and my dad's already pissed at me."
He nodded without much of an expression.
"OK, you dont have to keep writing."
"I could like...keep a journal or something. Not really a journal but something to keep track and tell you about something more recent than two years ago."I paused
"That would be nice" He seemed more to be humoring me in speaking because he was staring at the papers.
The bell rang.
"Bye" OK...so he's already busy reading it...
Mr. J's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I started reading the story soon after she gave it to me.
I have seen her first grade pictures, how could someone hurt such an adorable child? or even any child?
Beating a six year old child makes almost as much sense as Michael Jackson not being in jail.
And still hurting her.
After reading all of her papers and stories, I'm not sure how long I can keep my promise.
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Its bitingly cold today. The wind blows, and it feels like my face is being gnawed on.
My hair is pulled in a few directions but the whipping winds eventually slowed. When I was in view of my house, my heart dropped when I saw that Dad was home.
I walked in, he was sitting at the table with coffee.
"Where were you?" he said darkly.
"I had to stay after again" Well, its not like I'm lying.
"Why?"
"I forgot my homework" Lies, lies. Good thing I'm not religious.
"But you didn't have any"
"Thats what I thought." Well, lie number 2. I hate lying but I learned if its necessary, don't hold back.
"Have you told your teacher anything?"
"No, of course not." #3...yet its more of a half truth. He's the one that figured it out. And even though I told him a lot, technically I wrote it.
"Mmm...I think you're lying."
"No." I said a little loudly. "I'm not."
He flung the contents of the cup at me, burning my skin. How could anyone drink something so hot? I flinched.
"Consider yourself warned..." he said, followed by his famous line: " Clean this mess up." He stalked from the room.
I got up, first wiping my face with a wad of paper towels, then my shirt, which was luckily black, so it wouldn't stain.
Then I wiped the floor and wall.