We've Learned to Run from Anything Uncomfortable

Friday, May 27th

I clenched the cuff of my sweatshirt tighter in my hand as I peered through the slats covering my window. Tears dropped relentlessly from my eyes, and no matter how many times I brushed them away, they were determined to return.

I just wanted to be outside. I wanted to be anywhere but here, with Lucy. That psycho. She went through my entire file, and read everything on me. She read through all of my court charges, found the tickets I had for smoking, came across the underage drinking tickets, found all the dates from when I was arrested for battery.

At least she finally told me why she hated me so much.

I killed her only son. In a car wreck.

Driving drunk after a party in a car that I had stolen, I flew around a corner to park in front of my current foster home, and he was standing on the corner. I hit him. And he died, instantly. Just like that.

And she started a foster home to take care of children. But, once she met me and came face to face with the cause of her son’s death, she went ballistic. She never thought that she’d find me living in her house. At first, she wanted me out. But, then she realized that she wanted to keep me around just to torture me and take out all of her saved up anger on me. That’s what she’s been doing the last week that I’ve lived here. It didn’t take long for her to find out who I was.

It also hasn’t taken much longer for her to start her revenge on me. She is going to beat me until I’m dead. I know it. Staying in this house, I’m just signing my death certificate. I’m afraid to leave, as no one will believe me what I’m telling them.

I wanted to tell Oli yesterday when he came over and brought me my hat. But, the only thing I could bring myself to do was tell him to leave. He was scared. I watched the color drain from his face as I pulled open the door and looked up at him. I couldn’t help but tighten my grip on his wrist. It was a plead for help, but I couldn’t say anything audible.

I don’t know if I can handle much more of Lucy. Robert takes the younger kids downstairs while Lucy just clobbers me until I can’t even move. I spent two hours in the bathroom yesterday, letting warm water run over my body because I hurt so bad. I can barely get out of bed in the morning.

After she sent me to school last Monday and a teacher called home with concern, asking if I had gotten in fight on my way to school, she quit letting me go. I have never wanted to get up at six in the morning and trudge through the snow to my bus stop so bad in my life.

I want to go back to another foster home and obey the rules. I want to listen to someone and understand them, and do what they tell me to. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ve never been so keen on wanting to kill myself and ending my life, but right now, it seems like that’s the only thing I can think of anymore.

I just want Lucy to finish me off one of these days. I wait for the bruises to heal, and they simply turn from a deep blue, to an ugly brown color, and right before they turn yellow and all traces disappear, Lucy decorates me with even more blue.

She’s also known to throw me down the stairs. That’s how I end up with all the cuts on my face. I hit the table next to the front door every time, drawing blood.

Yesterday, a couple hours before Oli showed up, she hit me in the face with a can of Febreze, splitting my lip open and chipping my front tooth.

I turned to the sound coming from my door, tearing me from my thoughts as the younger foster kid, Timmy came into my room.

“Timmy,” I hissed, “What are you doing in here?”

“Here.” He whispered, looking behind him, out into the hallway and tucking the phone under my pillow, “That’s the phone Sammy. If you need it, you use it, okay?”

I nodded, “Okay. Thank you.”

He smiled and signaled a thumbs up, running out of the bedroom.

A small grin played upon my lips as I heard his little feet pattering down the stairs. I bit the inside of my cheek as I listened to Lucy’s come pounding up the stairs. I felt my stomach lurch forward as I crossed my bedroom and sat down next to my pillow. The door creaked open and I looked up to see her, dressed in a pair of jeans a t-shirt, a sick smile spread across her face.

“Hey there Sam.” She grinned, sitting down.

“Hi Lucy.” I mumbled, adding a slight smile to the end of my sentence.

“What did that hoodlum that came over yesterday want with you?”

“Oh.” I paused, ignoring the name-calling, “He came back to give me my hat. I left it in his car when we went out the other night.”

“Well, he better not show up over here again. I don’t want the neighbors thinking I let trash in my house.”

“Okay.” I whispered through tears.

“What the hell are you crying about?”

“Nothing.” I stated, wringing my hands.

“Get up.”

I looked at her, my eyes wide.

“Are you stupid? Stand up!” She yelled.

I quickly stood up and she backed me into a corner, “Do you even feel bad?”

I nodded my head yes, “I’m sorry.” I cried, “I didn’t mean to. I’d never do it again.”

“You shouldn’t have done it the first time. Do you know how bad it hurts to know that your only son was killed by some stupid teenager?”

“It was a long time ago!” I cried, bring my voice up an octave, receiving another smack across the face, I whimpered, “I’m sorry!”

“What makes you think you’re so much better than everyone else that you’re allowed to drink and drive?”

“Nothing!” I screamed, covering my ears.

“You think you’re just so fucking great, don’t you Sam? Well, you’re just a worthless little fuck, you know that? Your parents got rid of you because they didn’t want you.”

Fresh tears came falling from my eyes, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You smoke and you drink, and you think it’s okay to beat people up when you don’t get what you want. Then, you decide to get behind the wheel of a car and hit my only son!” She yelled, towering over me, hitting me every chance she got.

I let sudden bursts of voice come through my mouth, I was in too much pain to form any type of word, let alone a sentence. I screamed in pure agony, pain, abandonment, and guilt.

“Quit your god damn yelling!” She screamed, hitting me again.

I brought my arms up over my head, trying to shield myself from her blows, which only received yet more blows to my legs and my stomach.

“STOP!” I screamed so loud, I felt blood creeping out of my throat, “I’m fucking sorry! It was an accident! I’ll never. Do it… Again!”

“I know you won’t.” She sighed, “I’m making sure of that.”

I looked down as a glint of sun flashed off the knife she clutched in her hand. My breath caught in my throat, I choked on my sobs, and I couldn’t speak. She got closer to me, if that was possible and let out a big breath, grinning right in my face.

I dropped down, sliding against the wall, and collapsed into a ball as I felt the sharp pain my side. I clutched my hip, feeling the handle of the blade sticking out from between my ribs and my hip bone. I screamed in agony as I felt the knife being removed and shoved in yet another spot, closer to my belly button this time.

I raised my leg up and kicked her harshly, sending her flying against the wall. She regained balance and flew towards me once more, and I couldn’t move. I sat there, helplessly, bleeding to death with a kitchen knife in my stomach as I watched Robert come into the room with a horrified expression on his face.

“Lucy!! What is wrong with you?!”

“I want her dead Robert! She killed Derek and I want her dead!” She screamed, lunging towards me.

I lifted my arm up in a weak attempt to protect myself, but it only fell limp and rested against my chest. I heard Robert wrestle Lucy out of the bedroom telling her that ‘it was not okay to be stabbing people’, closing the door on his way out.

I let a few more whimpers escape from my mouth as I reached my left arm up as high as I could possibly get it. I grabbed the corner of my pillow and pulled it from my bed, cringing at the sound of the phone clattering against the floor.

I reached for it and wrapped my hands around the base of the phone bringing it as close to me as possible. I pressed the 9 and followed through with two 1’s.

One ring later, “Hello. This is 911. Please state your emergency.”

I couldn’t force any words out of my mouth.

“Hello? I’ll need you to speak up.”

I pressed a button on the phone.

“If you need help, please press another button.”

I pressed the 3.

“If you know your address, please press another button.”

My fingers fell limp as I dropped the phone onto the floor once more.

“We’re sending help. Please remain on the phone.”

As I shifted uncomfortably, sending more pain shooting up through my abdomen, I felt my eyelids droop slightly. Tears dripped silently from my eyes and my quiet sobs went unheard.

Only moments later, I heard an ambulance tearing down the street and a loud pound on the front door. And, as I heard frantic screams and heavy footsteps coming towards my bedroom… The only thing I could think of was how bad I wished I was with Oli right now, so I could tell him that I was going to be okay.