Forever Running

After my Uncle Henry had finished with me, he felt the need to point out what a whore I was. He slapped me around a bit before storming back to his bedroom to nurse a thirty-year-old Balvenie. I cried myself to sleep, just like every other night. I would've thought there would have been no more tears after all my crying these past seven years.

The sad part about my situation was that I thought it was my fault. Even when I knew it wasn't. There was some part of me that kept thinking my uncle was right. That it was my fault my parents dumped me on him because they worked too much. I thought it was my fault that they never visited or even acknowledged my presence. It tore me up inside to know that my parents hadn't wanted me anymore.

But how do you explain to an eight-year-old that mommy and daddy have to work out of state a lot and they want a stable home for their daughter? At the time, I was upset they were leaving me, but happy I was with Uncle Henry. Now, I couldtn't help but wish they'd left me with my brother, Joshua. Josh had run away from home at sixteen, around the time I left for our uncle's house. He had changed his last name to Wilkes and was smart enough to apply for a community college. He wrote to me for a year after he ran away, but then one day the letters stopped coming. I thougght he didn't want me anymore. I'd cried harder that night than I had ever cried in my life.

My family didn't want me and the one person who held the key to my freedom was a foul evil little pig. I tried the ideal 'running away at sixteen' stunt Josh had pulled, but of course my funds were sufficiently lacking and Uncle Henry has a way of finding people who don't want to be found. He'd dragged me back to his house, raped, tortured, and abused me for attempting to run away. I knew if I ever told anyone or tried to run away again, my chances of survival were slim to none.

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I rode on my bike to the private school I attended. I rode in a greenish-blue plaid skirt with a matching tie and blazer and a white blouse. It was pouring rain. My uncle never drove me or let me take the bus. He always preferred me in a skirt - easy to toss up and rearrange for a quickie. He never permitted me to have boyfriends, wear jeans, or go to parties. My sixteenth birthday was four months passed ad I had gotten nothing. My parent sand brother never sent me anything. My uncle figured his 'love' should be enough. And I told my friends I didn't want anything. What I didn't tell them was that my uncle had burned their gifts on my tenth birthday. I haven't recieved a present of any kind since I was eight.

At that point, I had ridden my bike through the cast iron gates of our school. I was completely soaked and chilled to the bone. I chained my bike to a stand and ran to the sliding glass doors of my school. I inhaled slowly as I took in my surroundings; dark green carpeted floors, wooden paneled walls, and five flights of white and black marble stairs. Each wall had elementary art covering it. Nothing from the upper levels. Our work was all written. Even thought the school pushed us hard, I like it. The work actually gave me a challenge, whereas my old school never taught us anything worthwhile.

I made my way to the familiar cork wood bulletin board. Each year classrooms moved and grade levels switched floors. Last year, the junior level had been on floor two. now, junior level was on the fifth floor. My uncle wouldn't be pleased with that. The first and last time he'd come to our open house he'd beat me, claiming it was my fault I had been placed on the fifth floor. I couldn't get into any trouble this term. Not that I ever did get in trouble. I was smart enough to fear retribution not from the school but my uncle. He disciplined with one hand fisted and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He was deadly - drunk and sober.

I jerked myself back to the present and ran my finger down a list of names, until I found mine. I was in Mrs. Pervish's homeroom. I sighed with relief. She was the nicest junior level teacher I had met. I hitched my messenger bag further up my shoulder and made my way to the fifth floor. I entered the door and, seeing no one, seated myself in the back. After a few minutes students started filing in. I waited while Mrs. Pervish called us up, one by one, to collect our schedules. She called my name and smiled as I walked slowly so as not to move my hurting legs as much.

"It seems to me, that you have many advanced classes." she said.

"Yes, miss." I replied, not really knowing what to say.

"So, I think that you'll have two free periods. Each of which should be filled with studying adn completeing homework as best you can. You may go." she handed me my schedule, but I hesitated before leaving.

"Miss?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't understand."

"You don't understand what?"

"Why I have two free periods."

"Well, you already have more credits that needed - helped by your pursuance of summer school - so I thought with six fairly advanced courses you could have a break every now and then."

"Thank you, miss." I didn't bother to tell her that I had gone to summer school when I didn't need it because I didn't want to be around my uncle all summer.

After that, the last half hour of class passed in no time. I'd studied the people around me. I knew everyone well enough to know who I should and shouldn't hang out with. Wait. There was one new kid. He had brownish-black hair, was well tanned, and had green eyes. I hadn't heard his name, but I assumed from his demeanor that he was not one to be messed with.

I continued to look at him, not noticing that I was staring. That was, until he looked at me. I snapped my mouth shut and looked away. Sliding my books off my desk, I stood and headed for my literature class.

Little did I know how much trouble a little looking would have gotten me into.