Horrid Thoughts with Hard Questions
Old Roads to Downtown
As soon as I get my coat on, and head to the door, it opens. In comes Claire, tears running down her cheeks. She makes a sound of surprise to see me standing right there.
"Claire," I say.
She collapses in my arms, making pitiful sounds of sorrow. "I'm so sick of them. They're horrible. Elizabeth, I don't know how much longer I can stand it." She says after a few minutes of standing there.
"Which one of them hit you this time?" I ask bitterly. It's always like this. I won't hear from her for a while, but then she always turns up, hysterical at my door after one, or both of her shitty parents beat her.
"Mom," She admits, burrowing her face into my shoulder. "I hate them, Lizzy."
"Me too. Come on, let's go get something to eat."
We walk downtown, not saying anything, because there's nothing to say. We've said it all before; the same discussion thousands of times.
But when we sit down at the counter of a diner, I need to say something before I explode.
"Claire, we need to leave."
"Claire," I say.
She collapses in my arms, making pitiful sounds of sorrow. "I'm so sick of them. They're horrible. Elizabeth, I don't know how much longer I can stand it." She says after a few minutes of standing there.
"Which one of them hit you this time?" I ask bitterly. It's always like this. I won't hear from her for a while, but then she always turns up, hysterical at my door after one, or both of her shitty parents beat her.
"Mom," She admits, burrowing her face into my shoulder. "I hate them, Lizzy."
"Me too. Come on, let's go get something to eat."
We walk downtown, not saying anything, because there's nothing to say. We've said it all before; the same discussion thousands of times.
But when we sit down at the counter of a diner, I need to say something before I explode.
"Claire, we need to leave."