Skin

Seventeen days after
Anna-Maria sat on the white chipped porch steps and sighed, she’d have to get this done with sooner or later. She looked at the silver minivan in the driveway and stood up. She knocked on the door and smoothed her shirt. She hadn’t been to Vicky’s house since her death; she didn’t want to be there now. She wanted to run far away from this home where everything was so screwed up that Vicky practically lived at Anna’s house.

The door opened at crack only to reveal Victoria’s mother’s left side of her face. “Hello, Anna.” She said quietly, she opened the door all the way and Anna walked in. She glanced around the small living room, nothing has changed, except for piles of clutter here and there.

“I wanted to look around Vicky’s room, if that’s okay.” Anna-Maria said and looked up at Mrs. Hawthorne. Mrs. Hawthorne nodded her head and walked into the kitchen, Anna already knew the way to Victoria’s room. She climbed up the stairs and looked down the long dark hallway. She pushed a door with a sign saying “DO NOT ENTER” open and walked into Victoria’s room. It looked the same, neat piles of books near the bed and on the vanity.

Anna closed the door and started her search; she knew that Vicky wouldn’t just leave without some sort of hint. She looked through books, drawers, shelves, underneath the bed, everywhere, but she couldn’t find anything. She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. She glanced over at the book case and saw Victoria’s journal. She picked it up with shaky fingers and opened to the first page.

“I don’t know how they put up with this. They act as if they don’t exist, like the live in their own worlds without each other, without me. Am I like them? I don’t think I could bear to be like them. It’s not normal, but what is normal?”

Anna flipped to another page.

“Today was somewhat bearable. I’ve managed not to get beaten to a pulp by my boyfriend, which is always a plus. Why do I put up with this abuse? I know that I deserve better, I know that in his own way he does love me. Or, he wants to love me (or control me). I couldn’t leave him, he would be mad. Then who knows what would happen.”

And another.

“I don’t want to deal with this anymore, nobody is helping me. Anna can’t help me; I don’t want to bring her into this. But, I think she’s getting suspicious, she knows something is up. I can distract her though, she has the attention span of a puppy so it shouldn’t be that hard. I don’t want her brought into my problems. Because if she finds out, she’ll be upset and she’ll go after him.”

Him? Him, who? Victoria’s boyfriend? Anna scanned her mind for all the possibilities on who “Him” could be, but couldn’t think of anyone. She slipped Victoria’s journal into her purse and walked downstairs, she waved goodbye to Mrs. Hawthorne and walked out the front door.