Like a Fairytale

The next few days were wonderful. Justin was right - his family did really seem to like me. Every time his one-year-old sister Jazmyn saw me, she’d start squealing and hold out her arms to be picked up. I adored that little girl.

But, you have to wake up from every good dream, and I got my wake-up call on the first Monday we were back at school. Kelsey was quiet, and Sam had a busted lip.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” I cried, getting into Sammy’s car.

“I got in a fight with Derek Jackson,” Sam replied, his voice even but angry.

“Hannah’s brother fought you?!” I put my hand over my mouth, shock coursing through yet again.

Kelsey nodded from the backseat. “I’m grounded until I could prove to my parents that Ashley lied when she told them that I gave Brian a blowjob after he dumped me to try and get him back.”

“Ashley is in this?! I’m so sorry, Kels!” This was getting beyond out of hand.

We were silent for the rest of the drive, something completely out of the ordinary for us. It showed how tense we were about the situation. But the worst was still yet to come.

“Hey slut!” Hannah called as I crossed the parking lot to get to class. “I heard you went for a Canadian rendezvous with my ex. Not a smart idea, bitch.”

“How do you know?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest and narrowing my eyes. If it’s a war she wants, then damn it, I’ll give her war. This had gone on for far too long.

“I told her,” Rebecca smirked from the hood of John Carmen’s car. “Being nice isn’t very fun.”

My jaw dropped. Rebecca, the girl I was just beginning to trust, had stabbed me in the back? “I can’t believe I ever trusted you,” I told her.

“Yeah, neither can I,” She laughed.

“So, why were you going around with Justin?” Hannah asked, standing directly in front of me. We were drawing a crowd.

“Because we’re friends,” I replied simply. “How is it any of your business? He broke up with you, remember? Or have you lost so many brain cells from drinking and partying that you have no memory? That would explain your grades.”

“Oh, go to hell,” She spat. “Justin will be mine soon enough.”

As much as I really wanted to triumphantly declare to her that Justin was dating me, I kept my mouth closed about that. “Wow, if that’s your plan, I pity him.” Then, before all this could say anything that really would start a fight, I turned, ready to walk away. But what Hannah said next changed all that.

“God, no wonder your mom fucking shot herself. I can’t imagine having to deal with you everyday.”

I froze, my hands automatically clinching into fists so hard, I cut my palms again. “What did you say?” I snarled, still turned around.

“I said, no wonder your mom shot hersel-” Hannah started, but my fist connected solidly with her face silenced her. I could feel her nose cracked beneath my fingers.

She fought back, to her credit, clawing at my face while I just kept punching. When Rebecca got into, well, I just starting hitting her too. All the anger and frustration I’d felt over the past eight years - Mom shooting herself while I stood in the doorway, unbeknownst to her, Tanya, Rebecca, my father’s apathy and ignorance, the cruelty I’d faced, all of it - come pouring out from the tears on my face and the movement of my hands. I went on auto-pilot; when the principal pulled me away, I was on Hannah, (Rebecca had backed off) my fists connecting with her face again and again and again.

“Miss Kinsley!” Mr. Redwood cried. “I am shocked and disappointed at you!”

I ignored him, glaring at Hannah, being held back by Mr. G. I was crying hard now, and it was evident in my voice, all though it was surprisingly steady. “Nobody. Talks. About. My mom.”

She just looked at me and spit out more blood.

“Eleanor Brynne, you have got a lot of explaining to do,” My father said when I walked into Mr. Redwood’s office.

“Dad?” I asked softly. I felt like I was seven years old again and scared to death that he, like Mom, would leave me.

He could sense this; Dad’s always known me well. “Yeah, it’s me, honey.”

“Daddy, she… she was talking about Mama, and I just, I snapped,” I said desperately, my words choked due to all the tears.

“Nine days of out-of-school suspension, right?” Dad asked Mr. Redwood. When my principal nodded, Dad sighed and said, “I’ll take care of this at home.”

The ride to my house was silent, except for my racketing sobs. I hadn’t cried like this in years, not since… well, not since Mom died. I had been holding it most of it in - this wasn’t like the night at Justin’s house. This was much more serious.

When we got in the house, Dad sighed again. “Ella… how could you?”

I was shocked. “How could I what?”

“How could you hurt your sister and her best friend like that? Ella, I have never been so disappointed in you.”

“Dad!” I cried. “She was saying stuff about Mom, bad, mean stuff!”

“You couldn’t just walk away?” He asked.

Apparently, this was just the day for surprises, because what I said next shocked even me. “No, Dad, I couldn’t. I actually care about her, unlike you. You got remarried less than a year after she died!”

“I did care about your mother! Its not my fault I fell in love with Tanya!” Childishly, he was yelling back at me. Wasn’t he, as the wise, mature, father, supposed to restrain himself?

“How?” I shrieked. “She’s a bitch, Dad! She’s mean to me and she makes me do all the housework and treats me like I’m a slave! I wish you had never even met her!”

“Do not talk about her that way!” He commanded.

“Dad, she’s a fucking stripper! I will talk to and about her anyway I damn well please!”

“You’re so grounded,” Tanya said angrily, walking forward and wrapping her arms around my father.

“No,” I replied. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Dad said.

“No, I’m not, because I don’t live here anymore.” My voice was steady and even - the opposite of my insides. “I’m leaving. I’m sick of this. I deserve better than all this.”

“Where will you go?” Tanya asked, wrinkling her perfect nose.

I shrugged. “Any place is better than here.” And with that, I walked up to my room, got anything important to me together in a suitcase, and walked out the door, hoping to never come back.