Be a Good Girl, Sandy Jones

I closed my eyes, my cheek still throbbing from the slap earlier, but I probably wouldn’t get a bruise or anything, it wasn’t as hard as the slaps I get from my mother. Before I could hold them back, tears streamed down my cheeks and a sob tore through my throat.

“Dani, please don’t make me talk yet,” I whispered, then heard boots on the stairs. My heart leapt to my throat and I looked at Dani in panic.

“Under the bed, please get under the bed,” I snapped, and she followed my demand in less then a minute, her foot was under the bed just as Rob walked in. He walked over to the bed, kneeled down and placed a hand on the blanket, where he knew my thigh was. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, then my lips.

“See you after work,” he whispered, then left. I bit my lip to keep from breaking out in another wave of sobs, and I tasted blood. I guess I’ve finally broken the skin of my lip.

As he left, he closed my door, then I heard him on the stairs, slam the front door, and finally, I heard him start the small car and drive away.

“It’s safe,” I whispered and Dani crawled out, her face a slight red color.

“Sandy, please,” Dani attempted, but I squeezed my lips together. She sighed, and walked around my room, looking around. When she was walking around my bed, her toe nudged the pile of clothes that Rob had discarded, and her face grew red. She didn’t piece it together, but she now did know I was completely naked under my blankets.

“Dani, I’ve gotta get dressed,” I mumbled meekly, and she turned to look at me. “Can you go downstairs and put the kettle on, it’s under the sink,” I instructed her.

She nodded and hurried from the room. I sat up, my whole body still shaking terribly. Somehow, I managed to get to my feet, and walk over to my closet, get dressed, then, only then did I collapse. I fell into a sobbing, messy heap on my floor, my tears staining the red carpet. Why had I chosen red for my room? That way no one can see the blood that I shed, was that why Rob had agreed, even before his ‘fantasies’ had become reality. I stayed on the floor for a while, until I gathered up the strength to get up again.

When I was on my feet again, I made it downstairs, without falling or crying, but my body was still trembling. Just a slight tremble that you wouldn’t notice unless you touched me or I was holding something.

I reached into the cabinet, pulled out two packages of hot chocolate and emptied the packages into two mugs, then poured the steaming hot water overtop, stirred the powder up, then sat down at the table. I slid Dani’s mug over to her. I took a gulp of the hot liquid; it scorched my tongue and the back of my throat.

“Dani, can I trust you? If I tell you this, you have to promise not to say anything to anyone, and not to think of me any different. And you have to tell me about your household, why you don’t want anyone over there,” I said in a voice that was stronger then I was.

She nodded, and held out her pinky.

I smiled, almost laughed, but I didn’t have the energy to.

I held out my pinky and we shook, our fingers linked. What was it that so many people called pinky promises, those promises that you can’t break or you ruin the universe?

I heaved a sigh and began to tell her about how it had been great in the beginning.

“When I was 10, my father left. I wasn’t that hurt, I knew why. Because of his wife, my mother, but what I couldn’t understand was why he didn’t take me with him. I never did get that answered, I’ve just forgotten about it."

I took a deep breath.

"When I was 12, my mom met Rob. It wasn’t until I was 14 that he actually moved in. He made everyone happier. He took me out for ice cream, helped me with my homework, and kept my mom happy. But before that, when I was 11, my mother started to blame me for her husband leaving. Told terrible things to an eleven year old, and soon after being told that you’re nothing in the eyes of your mother, you start to believe it. I genuinely hate myself Dani, and there’s really nothing anyone can do, or that I can think, that can change that. It’s just the way my mind is set, and maybe when I’m older, I’ll go see someone to help me, but right now, I just can’t."

I met Dani's eyes, but she was just listening to what I had to say: there was close to no emotion in her eyes. I looked at the floor again.

"Anyway, Rob was great in the beginning. Then, his drinking started, and one night when I was 15, he came into my room and slapped me around. He gave me two black eyes, sprained my ankle and fractured two of my ribs. He didn’t look at me after that, for a long time. Then, on my 16th birthday, once all of my friends, that I had the time, left, he came into my room and raped me. I tried to fight him off, but no matter what I did, he’d hit back harder. And even as I fought, it came out as the same result. He took away my first time, broke me down for the first time. After that, he treated me...better. He was nicer, and kept my mother off my trail. But from then on, every month he’d show up and mark his territory, force himself back into my life. When I turned 18, I started to fight in school, and over the summer, I got into drugs and alcohol. And here I am today, the Sandy you once hated, Dani. He hasn’t done anything recently, the last time he raped me was almost a month ago. I guess he was getting sick of seeing me happy."

I licked my lips and locked my fingers together to distract myself, so I wouldn't burst into tears.

"When I got home today, he was waiting for me. He took the lock off of my door, and trapped me. It only ended five minutes before you started to knock on my window,” I trailed off as I hugged my knees to my chest and looked at Dani.

She looked furious now, ready to kill something or someone.

She met my eyes and her face and fiery anger softened as she took in my appearance. I must’ve looked like a mess. Tear stains on my cheeks, hair a mess, eyeliner smudged and mascara runny. And that hot mess was dressed in baggy clothes. I wondered if the slap I had received earlier had given me a black eye or not.

“Sandy,” she whispered, as if going to apologize for Rob and my family problems. I shook my head.

“You know the deal Dani. Talk.” I said, sipping my now-warm hot chocolate as a signal that I was done talking and that it was her turn to tell her life story.