Take Me There

Tomorrow. That’s what was on my mind as soon as I woke up. The sun was bright, shining in through my open window, and the warmth hit my face as I leaned off the edge of the bed. I brushed my fingertips against the cool floor, allowing my eyelids to flutter open. Tomorrow was the last day of school. Tomorrow was Cass’s graduation. And then my body seemed to jolt awake.

Was she home?

I glanced at my clock quickly, groaning when I realized it was bright for 5 in the morning. I lifted myself up and set my feet on the ground, my toes curling from the sudden coolness. I stretched my arms out and fixed my tank top, standing to fix my shorts. I ruffled my messy hair and grabbed the tie off my table, throwing it up into a messy ponytail. I glanced at my phone: no new calls.

Padding over to the door, I pulled it open slowly, sticking my head out into the dark hallway. The area was barely lit by my room so I pulled the door open wider, slowly creeping out. My eyes darted from door to door, each one of them closed. Trudging towards the one across the hall, I gripped the cool doorknob in my hand and twisted, biting my lip as I pushed it open. My eyes settled on the darkness, the room neat and still… just like she left it. Taking a step inside, I left the door open behind me and carefully watched where I walked. Her purple backpack sat in the corner, next to her neat dresser. I took a moment to look at all the pictures, slowly pulling myself closer.

A row of pictures took up the top of her long dresser, each one bringing me in. Her and Nick; at the park, at the beach, on their first date, playing baseball when we first moved here. There were so many of her and that curly headed neighbor and I found myself frowning. Was she really cheating on him? Why would she? Cass loved Nick and Nick loved Cass; I had no right telling him that information. Maybe I was jealous. Maybe I was a terrible person. I shifted my eyes away from those, sucking in a breath once I spotted ones that were close to me.

It was Me, Mom, Cass, and Dad… all in a line, smiling happily in front of our new house. Mr. and Mrs. Jonas had come over immediately, offering to take a picture for ‘memories.’ They were fond of those. The next photo was similar, but mom was out of it. Dad was holding me, Cass on his shoulders. I was smiling and Cass and dad were making faces at the camera. I never remembered Cass going through an awkward stage, but this photo didn’t portray her perfect life. This was the Cass that I could relate to, the Cass Nick only liked as a friend.

I remembered the next picture, though. I was ten and Cass was fourteen. Dad was with a pretty red-headed girl, smiling brighter than he ever did with my controlling mother. I didn’t know why he was always with her until I heard them fighting. It became constant, every night when he came home. Dad worked for a music store; he was the manager. The red-headed girl was named Layla and she worked for him. I also didn’t realize that dad loved her until Cass had told me that she was going to have a baby and that our dad was the father. It took me a while to understand that our mom wasn’t the mother, that dad had cheated on her. Layla was nice though. I didn’t hate her when dad moved out because she always treated me like I was special. Damon was born a year before they decided to get married and that’s when I really lost him.

I sniffled a little, smiling bitterly so I wouldn’t cry. But it was harder when I saw Cass’s sixteenth birthday picture. She had changed when she was fifteen and by sixteen Nick had asked her out. Of course he was only fourteen, but he seemed so much older. She didn’t take him seriously at first and avoided him, but when he turned fifteen she started flirting with him. That’s when their first real relationship started.

I stared at Cass for a moment, her long blond hair and ice-blue eyes not as bright in the photos as they were in real life, like how I wanted them to be right now. I turned away from the dresser and tapped her pink tea-cup before trailing my fingertips over her stamp collection. And then I saw her cards for graduation. It dawned on me now that she wasn’t here, that she hadn’t come home. I inhaled deeply, the scent of her filling my nostrils fully. I scrunched up my nose and stumbled out, breathing heavily. I shut the door tightly behind me, gripping the doorknob until my knuckles turned white.

I heard a sound come from downstairs and my heart skipped a beat, my ears tuning into the sound of the door unlocking and a string of cuss words. I let my hand slide off the door and to my side, my feet taking me to the edge of the stairs. I stepped down slowly once my eyes settled on my mother, her stumbling figure tripping over the leg of the table, earning another string of cuss words to escape her mouth. Her eyes darted around the mess, her lips pursing with frustration as she whined. I furrowed my eyebrows and stepped forward, pausing once her eyes settled on me. She blinked, trying to realize who I was.

When she realized I wasn’t Cass, she scowled.

“What the hell is all this mess?” she asked, slapping her hands to her sides in anger. I stared at her in confusion, pushing my bangs back as I looked around. It was her mess. Her beer cans. Her loss of sanity.

I didn’t say that though. I didn’t say anything.

“Why didn’t you clean it up?” she added after our moment of silence, her voice whiny and frustrated. She looked like she was about to collapse. I bit my lip.

“I… I didn’t know I was supposed to-”

“Well what else are you good for? Damn it!” I flinched at the loudness of her voice, the sting in it not something I was used to. “What are you doing?” she hissed, bringing my attention from the mess to her.

“What?”

“Are you stupid? Clean up this mess, would you? Do something!”

“You do something,” I muttered back, freezing when her eyes locked on me, like I was a target for her. She slowly cocked her head, her jaw tight.

“What did you say?” she murmured, stepping closer once I didn’t answer. She swayed a little but managed to stand tall, her hands crossing over her chest.

“You… you do something,” I whispered, looking down. I felt her cold hand grip my chin tightly, her nails digging into my skin purposely as she jerked my head up. I stared at her with wide eyes, holding my breath.

“What?” she provoked, leaning closer to my face. I felt something that I knew wasn’t right. I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of my mother… but now I was.

“Why aren’t you working? Why are you spending your money on alcohol?” I whispered, pulling away from her grip. She dropped her hands to my shoulders, making sure I didn’t move; I was too afraid to even twitch. Maybe, if I stood still, she’d leave me alone. I wasn’t invisible to her though, like I usually was.

“You don’t get to question me. You’re my daughter-”

“Then treat me that way,” I snapped. There was a part of me that was even stupider than I thought. As soon as the words left my mouth, her hand collided with my face--right against my already existing bruise. I winced and grabbed for my face, but her hand gripped my wrist and twisted it some, getting me to shut my eyes tight.

“You’re my daughter and you’ll do as I say,” she whispered, her voice sloppy and assertive.

“Mom,” I whispered, trying to turn as her grip on my wrist tightened. I sucked in a deep breath when she dropped my wrist, taking a step back to look at me. Her gaze held disgust and I looked down, ashamed for no real reason. Why did I feel this was? Why was she making me feel this way?

“Where’s Cass?” she blurted out, her sentence a little more even. Sure. When it came to Cass, things were serious.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the mom, remember?” I didn’t think my comment would get her angry, but her eyes seemed like fire suddenly, her breath coming out as a grunt.

“Go to your room,” she breathed, lifting her hand to point towards the stairs shakily. I was surprised and relieved at the same time, wasting no time to jump up the steps. But I barely got to the third one before I felt a hand on my arm, fingers tightly pushing into my skin.

I felt my body being yanked down and I lost my footing, my knee banging against the step as I twisted, my bottom hitting the last step as my back hit the wall with a thud. The picture fell to the floor with a crash and my hand smashed against the shards of glass, sticking to my skin with a pang of hurt rushing through me all at once. I sucked in a breath and held it, unable to get my heart to settle down. Her hand was still on my arm, holding it up as she stood over me.

“Julissa,” she gritted. I stayed silent, keeping my eyes closed. I was afraid that I’d cry, afraid that she’d be able to see that she was in fact controlling me. “Julissa,” she snapped, tugging my arm roughly. My body jerked forward and back, hitting the wall, the shards of glass cutting farther into my palm and now my thigh. She was treating me like a rag doll. “Look at me!” she shouted, her voice booming through the empty and dark house. Her foot slammed against my shin and I shut my eyes tighter, falling back against the wall once she let me go.

Her foot slammed against my leg again and I curled up, using my unharmed hand to push it away. She just kicked again though, keeping at it until I was forced into a ball, not sure where to put my hands as the glass crunched underneath my body. Her foot slammed faster and harder against me, going for my sides and my legs before attacking my cheek. I let out a cry of pain, squeezing my eyes as tight as I could, my lip trembling before I bit down on it, tasting blood. She kicked again, hitting my shaking hand when I tried to pull it up to my face.

She didn’t say anything as she kicked at me. She didn’t say anything while I let out a few croaks of pain, fighting to gain a full breath. She didn’t say anything as she bent down, kicking and punching me like I was a punching bag rather than her daughter. I curled up tighter, sliding as close to the wall as I could, trapping myself. She gripped the back of my neck and pulled me up, pushing me back down. She grabbed at my hair and slapped me as she began to scream, almost crying with anger, with rage. I settled my hands on the stairs, keeping my head from hitting the wood when she dropped me back down, a burning sensation rushing through my body.

“M-mom!” I croaked, tears streaming down my face, escaping through my closed eyes. I gasped for air and cried out, pushing her hands away from me. I couldn’t see her like I wanted to, couldn’t plead with her. “Mommy, please!” I begged desperately, unable to hear anything except for my heart hammering against my rib cage. I began to choke on my tears, wincing when her hand collided with my face again. “Stop! S-stop, p-please!”

And it was done. She stopped once she realized that she had control over me, that she had control over my pain. Everything was silent, her heavy breathing mixing with my gasps and shaking cries. My body shook against the floor violently, the glass cutting into my arms as I continued to hold my face, trying to halt my tears. I could see red rather than black, my chest heaving up and down, my forehead thudding against the wall every time I tried to move. I swallowed, the dryness of my throat making me choke on my silent cries. I could hear her stand, her feet crunching over the glass that was now spread out from my constant squirming.

“Stop crying,” she prompted, her voice a whisper. But it wasn’t kind, it wasn’t apologetic or loving. It was demanding and stern, like I had no right to cry.

I didn’t.

“Stop crying and clean up this damn house!” she shouted now, nudging me with her foot. I whined out of instinct and jumped towards the wall, pressing my body against it as tight as I could, my hands scratching at my cheeks, trying to wipe the tears away. I didn’t want her to touch me, to hit me again. “And when you’re done, get to school.”

I heard her hobble up the stairs, the creaking echoing through my ears as I laid there. I tried my best not to make any noise, to stay still so I wouldn’t feel anything. It was nearly impossible with my shaking and I managed to stretch out, whimpering. Every part of my body felt numb and I did my best to breathe.

The house was silent, the slam of the door leaving everything to slow down. I didn’t know how I got here or why she had changed so suddenly. And where was Cass? Just thinking about her made it harder to concentrate on getting up. I settled my hand on my head, using the other one to slide up the wall. I patted the stair rail with my still shaking hand and managed to grip it and pull myself up onto my wobbling legs. My feet ached under the glass and I hopped onto the step, keeping my eyes closed as I stumbled up the steps, every move shooting a pain through me

Pulling myself down the hallway, I crept into the bathroom and shut the door, breathing deeply. I peeled my eyes open after another moment of silence, my eyes flying open to meet the reflection in the mirror that I didn’t recognize. My cheeks looked swollen, my eyes bright from the tears. My lip was cut and bleeding, my cheeks holding multiple bruises and cuts, more blood. I looked like a beast. I felt my body shaking again and I told myself not to cry because I couldn’t, I didn’t need to cry. This was my fault. I wasn’t perfect. I never would be.

I wasn’t good enough.

I lifted up my arms and spotted the cuts and red marks, my legs not being any better. I could feel my back and torso burning, my thin shirt cut, revealing a few bloody gashes. I couldn’t breathe staring at this. Shutting my eyes tight again, I swallowed back my tears and pulled out the glass shards, my breathing seeming to never even out. I could hear the faint vibration of my phone through the walls but I was too busy trying not to cry out again, throwing the shards into the trash as hard as I could. I wiped my eyes furiously and grabbed my washrag, turning the faucet on the hottest it could go. I soaked the rag and rubbed my face furiously, not stopping until the numbness came back. I rubbed the rag over my arms roughly, moving down to my legs and then my stomach until my skin felt raw and hot.

Throwing the bloody rag into the bathtub, I turned the faucet off and hurried out the door. I could hear snoring through the cracked door and I rushed past, tripping down the stairs. I bypassed the glass and stepped over the picture that lied on the floor, not bothering to take a second glance at it. I knew it was of us, of what should be a family. Grabbing the broom and dustpan and garbage can, I carried them into the room, wobbling. My feet stung as the pounded against the floor, my knees burning as I bent down to sweep up the glass.

I threw the shards into the trash and grabbed the picture, shoving it into the nearest drawer. Taking another glance around, I was quick to get started on cleaning up the stinky cans. I should have already done it.

[T I M E]

I sat on the couch in the dark, my eyes staring at the blurred numbers on the clock. I had been doing this for hours, a blanket wrapped around me despite the heat of the closed up house. It was dark, the bright sun barely peeking through the curtains, and there was absolutely no air circulating through the house. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t move. I didn’t want to wake up my mom. She had been sleeping for as long as I had been sitting here, coming down once to make sure I had cleaned up. She seemed satisfied and grabbed a bottle of water before stumbling back up the stairs, not even acknowledging me again.

My fingers continuously loosened and then tightened over the fabric of the blanket, my body staying stiff as I breathed in and out slowly. I watched the time fly by slowly, instead of going to school like I was supposed to. The phone never rang and nobody came over. I was alone.

I heard a sudden knock on the door and that’s when my mind registered the time. School was out now, past 2 o’clock. I gulped, licking my dry and scabby lips. I could still taste the blood. I opened my mouth to speak but my throat felt sore and I quickly shut it, sighing when the soft knock sounded again. I turned my head and picked up my magazine, lazily chucking it at the door. It made a small thud and whoever was on the outside took that as a sign to come in; mom never locked the door.
“Julissa?” a soft voice questioned, the door squeaking open some more. Nick. My eyes widened and I quickly flopped over, burying my face into the pillow, wrapping the blanket tightly around me despite the heat. I began to sweat--it was better than crying. “Jules?” it rang again, even softer this time.

“Yeah?” I croaked, trying my best to sound as if I had been sleeping. I hadn’t gotten changed out of my cut tank and shorts. I hadn’t put any make-up on my swollen face. I was a mess. I was uglier than usual and I especially didn’t need Nick seeing me. Maybe Joe, but not Nick.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, shutting the door behind him. I didn’t realize that any cool air had blown in until it was cut off, the heat making me itch again. I didn’t move though.

“Fine,” I muttered against the pillow. I let out a breath and stiffened, his footsteps coming closer timidly.

“Why weren’t you at school today?” Nick asked, clearing his throat. I could feel his presence and I scolded myself when I wanted to pop up to see him.

No.

“I didn’t feel good,” I lied, unable to shrug my shoulders. I was too sore.

“Why are you covered up? You do realize it’s about 100 degrees outside, don’t you?”

Part of me - that stupid part again - wanted to peek to see what Nick was wearing. I knew he liked wearing tank tops when it was hot outside and I also knew that his muscles always seemed so smooth and perfect. I buried my face deeper into the fabric, biting down on my lip as it brushed over my bruised skin.

I didn’t need to think about that. It was wrong. I had to tell myself to remember that I didn’t want to talk to Nick anymore. I didn’t want us to be friends. He was for Cass and I would never be good enough for him. Even if we were just friends.

When I didn’t answer, he whispered my name again, trying his best not to freak out.

“Just go away,” I murmured, clearing my throat. The awkward silence turned stiff, his body staying still. I thought that maybe he left, but even Nick wasn’t that graceful to be so completely silent. He was still there, standing by the couch. If he didn’t leave soon I’d die of suffocation.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, his voice suddenly irritated. “I came over here to tell you that Cass called me.” That sparked my interest. I jerked my head up a little, careful not to knock the blanket down.

“She did?” I whispered quickly, tightening my fingers on the couch cushion.

“Yeah, but if you don’t get up then I won’t tell you what she said.”

“Nick, that’s not fair,” I snapped, turning my head in his direction. That was a mistake. I could feel his hand on the blanket suddenly, pulling it off my head. I reached up to grab it, but his other hand gripped my wrist and he froze once the blanket draped to the floor. His eyes were locked on my arm for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at all me marks. My eyes focused on his face for a split second, before he looked up, and I took in his windblown curls and his liquid brown eyes.

His eyes then darted up to my face, shock completely filling his expression. His lips parted, his mouth shaping into an O while his eyes widened. His hand dropped my wrist quickly, like touching me burned him, and he stood up straighter. I didn’t want him to look at me like this. I felt like some big, stupid, ugly monster. I reached down for the blanket, grunting when his hand gripped my arm tightly again. His eye burned into me.

“Let go,” I ordered, but my voice was weak. He just stared. “Stop staring at me!” I growled, ripping my arm away, wincing with pain.

“Julissa, stop,” he grumbled, ripping the blanket out of my hands. I turned to face him, mustering the dirtiest look I could; it wasn’t much scarier than my face. But he didn’t seem fazed.

“Give me the blanket,” I whispered weakly, looking down and away from his gaze.

“Look at me,” he ordered softly, touching his fingertips to my cheek. I jerked away, getting him to retract his hand. “Jules… what happened to you?”

“Nothing. Just… just go away or, or tell me what Cass said. Anything. Just stop staring at me,” I begged, turning away from him. He didn’t stop me this time, but I could feel his hand set on the couch, right next to my head.

“Tell me what happened to you.”

“It’s none of your business!” I immediately shut my mouth once I heard my voice echo through the house; I didn’t want to wake her up.

“Is it your mom? Is that what’s going on? Julissa, you need to tell me-” he started, but I quickly cut him off.

“No. She’s at work,” I lied, tugging at my shirt. He was silent for a moment, his soft breath calming me in the oddest way.

“Her car’s in the driveway.”

Dang it.

“Jess took her,” I quickly retorted, licking my dry lips. “Would you just tell me what my sister said? Please?” I whispered, inhaling deeply.

“Not until you look at me,” he whispered. I could hear him kneel down to his knees, his chin resting on the back of the couch. I shook my head. “Why not?”

“I look like an ugly monster! Are you blind?” I blurted out, realizing that my self-consciousness was coming out now, at the worst time.

“No you don’t Jules. You could never,” he whispered, his warm breath hitting my face. He spoke as if I were stupid, as if I was so idiotic for not realizing that.

He was so wrong.

“Is she hitting you Jules?” he mumbled, his voice still soft. I didn’t need to tell him. I didn’t need to say anything.

“No,” I breathed, turning to face him so he would stop questioning me. He looked so innocent with the way his head rested on the couch, his eyes looking like a puppy dog--lost and confused. His full lips were pouted out because of the way his chin was resting and his fingers curled over the fabric, his body stiffening when he gulped.

His lips quivered, at a loss for words, and he lifted his hands. “Uh, umm,” he mumbled, blinking a few times before he revealed a coherent sentence. “Can I… touch it?” I knew he was referring to the larger bruise on my cheek, the bruise that was caused from her kick and her slap.

I didn’t answer and for some reason, he took that as an okay. He stretched out his fingers, wiggling them like a child to reassure me that he wasn’t going to hurt me. I watched him still, wanting to pull back as soon as I could feel the tips barely brush my skin. His eyes narrowed, locking on his actions. He drug them down my face, shaking his head slowly. Before he could ask again, I interrupted, setting my hand on his to push it down.

“Cass,” I prompted, that one word making me feel weak again. He pulled back and nodded, toying with his curls nervously.

“She didn’t say much, she was really quiet. She called me from a payphone and said that she was okay and to tell you that she was sorry for everything and that she’d see us soon,” he shrugged, leaning back onto his heels. He trailed his fingers over the floor, keeping his eyes locked on me. I looked away again, rubbing at my face. “Don’t do that,” he scolded, just like I knew Mrs. Jonas would.

I ignored him.

“She didn’t say where she was? When she’d be back? Did she say if she was with Zack?” I questioned quickly, glancing up for a moment to see him tighten his jaw at the mention of that creep.

“No. Like I said, it was from a pay phone and she just said she’d see us soon. I heard somebody in the background; I assume it was him.”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the mixed feelings coming together. Was she stupid? Was she really okay? Where was she? Would she come back? Was I stupid? Was mom crazy? Was I not able to stay away from Nick?

I didn’t know any of the answers… except for one. I couldn’t stay away from him.

“Go away now,” I muttered, picking up the pillow to set it on my lap.

“You were never this blunt,” Nick breathed, amusement in his voice. What? I whipped my head around, finding it to be a mistake once the pain rocked through my body. I gulped. His full lips stretched into a sideways smirk, his eyes sympathetic though.

“I just want to be alone.”

Such a lie.

Nick pursed his lips and sighed, standing up in the silence. He dug his hands into his pockets and it was then I realized that he was in fact wearing a tank top; his muscles flexed with his actions. I needed to stop paying so much attention to him. If I continued to get attached I’d just get hurt when Cass came back.

I didn’t realize that I was always so wrong.

“Okay,” he murmured, finally stepping back. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, but he wasn’t staring at my bruises or my cuts. He was staring at me. I didn’t know how to explain it or why it felt that way, but for once, it felt like he was really noticing me. “But I’ll be back later, and I want you to meet me outside at 8.” He didn’t ask, he just informed me. He knew I’d be there.

I heard the door click behind him and I let out a breath, tugging at my hair nervously. I wanted Cass; I wanted dad; I wanted Joe…

I wanted Nick.

But time wasn’t working for me and I didn’t know how much longer I could take this. Any of this. I didn’t realize that time was just beginning.