Camp Koradel

March 8th 7:30am.
It's getting worse. They overreact; it’s not even bad. I can't believe how many people she tells! I'm pretty sure now that she's just doing it for the attention. At first, I was thinking, alright, she has problems, but now I know it's just for show. I wonder what's actually going on in that house. Yeah, I've been over before, but every family can put on a good show. Like mine, for example, and how everyone thinks my dad is so cool… If only he was like that when it's just us alone together. Ugh, well, I have to run; otherwise, I'll miss the bus. I'll write if it happens again. And by the way, I'm not worried about Allison. Nothing will happen to her. Plus, what's the big deal about it?

Placing the small notebook in her desk, Sophie Graham sprinted out of the room, down the steep staircase, and to the door, hoping (unsuccessfully) not to see her father. He was sitting on the seemingly black couch in his black wool jacket, eating his seemingly black cereal out of his seemingly black bowl. Slowly, she blinked away the bleak images, unleashing color back into the mundane world. All was bland without color.

"Goodbye, sweetheart."

She wanted to scream, "Don't play that game with me! I remember last night; just because I passed out doesn't mean I forgot!" But she refrained from this, saying simply, "Bye, Dad." Her tone was flat and even, maybe even empty, but her anger towards him remained inconspicuous. Immediately, she hurried out the door, but again, wasn't that lucky.

"Sophie!" She instantaneously stopped in her tracks at her father's repugnant voice and trudged back inside. "If anyone asks, tell them... tell them you ran into a door."

"Yes, sir." She knew that he was referring to the left side of her face, because he was caressing the place he had furiously slapped her the previous night.

"Damn that door. Why are you so clumsy, love?" Really Dad? Sophie thinks to herself, glancing out the open door. Outside there was the squeal of brakes down the street where she should be standing, waiting for the bus. Hearing this, her father tensed, slammed the door closed, clutched her arm, and muttered, "I'll write you a note."

Sophie had learned to just about ignore him when he was in one of those moods. He had no one to love, so he "loved" her, beating her if she didn't "love" back. What was surprising was that he was so distracted that he didn't ever really inspect her body. She wondered if he even would care. No, she thought, it wouldn't make any difference. What was the point anymore? She wasn't worth anything but the scars and abuse...

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"Did you do it again?" John asked Allison when he saw her in the school hallway.

"No, where is Sophie?"

"Are you lying to me?"

"No! Where's Sophie?" Allison repeated with more force this time.

"Who cares? Prove that you didn't do anything!"

"I don't have to prove anything to you. Now," jaws tight, she reiterated once more, "have you seen Sophie?"

"No," John sighed, aggravated with Allison, who was still intently searching for Sophie and was unconsciously rubbing at her wrist. John stared at it, keeping his mouth shut and trailing her as she spotted Sophie entering the hallway they were in. It was a wide hallway, enough to fit three kids laying down head to fit, but it was still overly crowded as they walked through.

Sophie’s brown eyes were empty, no trace of that morning’s event to be seen. Some daydreaming idiot knocked right into her, sending her books plummeting to the floor. For a moment, she contemplated just leaving them there, but she decided against it and reluctantly bent to retrieve them.

Two pairs of feet halted in front of her, and she looked up to see John Hardy – short, curly brown hair and thin, circular glasses – and Allison Spyke – shoulder-length, blonde hair with pale skin and perfect facial features. The girl bit her lip, suppressing a longing to console Sophie. She only held it back to spare her though; there was no need to mention the bruise carelessly in front of John, even though he must have seen it as well.

Allison’s hand was wrapped around her wrist, which meant she “did it” again. Sophie gave her a skeptical glance, and Allison yanked her arm, dragging her into the nearest bathroom. Once inside the biggest stall, she pulled her long sleeve up, revealing three tiny cuts on her wrist as if she was proud of it. Groaning, Sophie fled the bathroom; Allison was too shocked to move.

They didn’t see each other again until lunch, and Sophie could tell from her bloodshot eyes that she’d been crying. She tried to say something then, but Allison pretended to be enmeshed in an intense conversation with someone else. Suddenly, though, Sophie overheard John tell Jeff, “Yeah, she did it again.”

Allison made an odd sound that was something of a gasp and, shocked, exclaimed, “I did not!”

“Alright,” a girl stated from across the table, “then prove it.” Allison looked down at her tray and began picking at her bread. John reached out and pulled her sleeve down quickly. In contrast with her pale skin, the red was so bright that everyone at their little circular table could definitely see it. She squealed and pulled her sleeve down, abashed and angry. Sophie, standing to go to the bathroom, pretended nothing happened, but Allison stood to her feet as well and followed. Sophie paused when she stepped in the ladies’ room, feeling a strange urge to tell someone. No, I cannot tell Allison, or anyone else!

“I’m just going to the bathroom, Ally.”

“I needed to get away from them… Ever since John figured out, he won’t stop.”

“Figured out? He didn’t ‘figure out,’ you told him. There is a huge difference.”

She stared at Sophie, appalled, but then her expression switched to sudden realization and she said quietly, “You know what? Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen your–”

“Get the hell away from me!” Sophie rushed out of the bathroom before Allison could attempt to roll her sleeves up to look at her arms, and she put on her poker face. She had mastered that expression over the past few years, so no one suspected anything. For the rest of the day, Allison and Sophie avoided each other, not even during their last class together when Mrs. Pollock asked Sophie to stay after class.

“Yes ma’am?” Sophie asked the woman after the rest of the teenagers had vanished.

“Is everything alright, Ms. Graham?”

“Of course,” Sophie assured her with a buoyant nod. “Why–?”

“I don’t believe that is just oddly shaped sunburn on your face.”

Sophie blinked at her abruptness. Her heart skipped a beat and she backed away. “Um, I’m sorry, Mrs. Pollock, but I have to go…”

“Now, Sophie–”

“Really Mrs. Pollock, everything is alright. I really must get going now.”

“Alright,” she said, relinquished. “But don’t be afraid to talk to me if you need advice.”

Sophie didn’t answer; she sprinted from the room, hoping the conversation would never come up again.

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March 8th continued 4:00pm
I knew something would happen today! How I knew that, though, I have no clue. First of all, Dad did it again this morning. Yeah THIS MORNING! He made me late to school. I wish I could have just stayed home. Ally did it again, and everyone at the lunch table now knows. Ally may find out about my habits sooner or later. She kind of asked me in the bathroom today, but I ran as fast as I could out of there. That was stupid, I guess. I avoided her for the rest of the day and…Dad’s coming!

Sophie stuffed the dark grey notebook into her desk just in time. Her dad appeared in her bedroom doorway and didn’t see it. He smiled at her, laugh lines appearing around his chocolate eyes, and he said, “Honey, I’ve got news for you.”

“Shoot.”

His grin broadened and he wandered over to her small, brown twin bed to sit. “You’re not going to school tomorrow.” She suppressed a grin at this. “You’re never going back to that school. We’re moving.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?” He proceeded to tell her about the new job that would reward him with better pay. “Why so sudden?”

He hesitated and then told her not to worry. “You can have one more day of school to say goodbye to your friends if you want.”

“No, no.” He looked at her suspiciously; her words had come out too quickly.

“Did something happen at school today?”

She tried not to rush this time. “No, everything’s fine.”

He smiled again. “Well that’s good, my love.” He stood from her bed and said, "Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

Sophie nodded and awaited his departure. He closed her door on the way out, and she sighed deeply, relaxing in the lack of his presence. Sitting in silence, her thoughts drifted to nothing, and soon, all she could feel was a fluffy pillow…

“SOPHIE!” the door to her bedroom banged open, and she awoke with a start, collapsing to the ground onto her knees, pleading. “I’m not going to accept your apologies, you worthless girl. You don’t even deserve to be called a girl!”

“Father, I’m sorry!” She needed him to believe her. She was too exhausted and knew she would be punished for it. “I know dinner is sacred to you, but just let me make it up to you,” She cried, still knelt before him as if he were some kind of god.

“Tonight, you will not get dinner, but I’ll bring you a bottle of water. You are to stay in your room until I call for you; don’t even dare falling asleep this time. I will have something waiting for you; when you come into my room, you will see a note. Do everything it says!” With that order left hanging in the air, he slammed the door closed.

She was astonished. No dinner was all? I can deal with that, but I didn’t have lunch or breakfast either… Her stomach growled in protest just as her door opened. A bottle flew inside and the door slammed shut again. Putting her hand out, she caught the bottle right before it would have smacked her in the face. She chugged it down immediately, causing her stomach to gurgle.

By the time her father called her name, she was enervated and unprepared, but she had to. He had set lingerie out for her. She suppressed a habitual groan, knowing he was ridiculous yet also knowing she had to obey him; it could have been worse, right? Who knew what he could have done to her? She shivered, not wanting to discern any new ideas as she slowly opened his bedroom door…