Don't You Ever Forget About Me

For the rest of the summer I wandered around town. Walked down roads and became familiar with the near-Seattle area. I did anything I could to stay away from my dad. After the beating I got when I was on the phone with Christian I wanted to stay away from home as much as possible. I thought about running away but I'd have no where to go. I contemplated escaping to Boston but I didn't know where Christian lived and I didn't have the money for airline tickets and cabs and food. I was stuck.

Every night I prayed for a miracle. For something to happen so I wouldn't have to endure this any longer. I hated being stuck as much as I hated myself. I knew I'd never be worth anything without Christian and I began to think of my options. The most prominent one was suicide. I thought about it a lot. How I would end my life, who would miss me. I knew I was nothing to my dad anymore. Just a punching bag that he could take his anger out on. Christian never answered my calls, not that I called him much, due to staying away from home and not having a cell. I began to think suicide was a valid option. I'd already become the joke of the school and had no friends. It seemed more realistic every day, every hour, every minute.

It ate up my summer, thinking about suicide and wandering the city. I ended up thinking I'd run into Christian on the street. So much so that I'd begin hallucinating him. I had become obsessed with seeing him again. I tried to remember his smile and laugh, but my muddled brain couldn't cooperate.

The first day of eighth grade came sooner than expected and I embraced it with open arms, I treated it as a way to escape my abusive home if only for a few hours. I was still hallucinating Christian so I wasn't surprised when I thought I glanced him on the first day on the way to first period. I took a seat in my normal farthest corner and began doodling. I saw someone come up to my desk and I prayed they'd just walk away if I ignored them enough, but they did something I'd never imagine.

"Mind if I sit here?" A voice vaguely remembered from a conversation questioned. I snapped my head up so fast I was surprised I didn't break my neck. He smiled and I wanted to cry.

Tears formed in my eyes and my voice cracked as I spoke. "Christian. It- is that you?"

"I missed you." He said as I jumped out of my seat and attacked him with a hug. I ended up with my knees on my desk as we embraced.

"I needed you. I missed you more than you'll ever understand. I cried myself to sleep every night, thinking I'd never see you again." I whispered, clutching him like my life depended on it. Tears fell out of my eyes like waterfalls.

He eventually pulled away, keeping his hands on my waist and I saw a look of worry in his eyes. "Victoria. What happened that night you called me?"

"Oh.. That.." I averted my eyes, a rush of pain collapsing my chest as the memory of the worst abuse I'd suffered out of all the nights flooded my senses.

"How about after school? We could hang out at your place, just like old times."

My eyes got wide with fear that Christian might witness any abuse. "N-no. Not my place. How about yours? C-can we hang out there? Maybe a diner or something if not? Just not my place."

"My house isn't that far from the school, a five minute walk. We could hang out there." He seemed weirded out from my behavior but smiled at me. I couldn't help but melt.

"Oh, and this seat's unoccupied if you wanted to sit." I smiled back, motioning to the chair next to my desk. He pulled the chair close to my desk and we ended up talking basically the whole class, passing notes when we weren't allowed to speak out loud. We swapped schedules and we found out we had all but two classes together, and those were extra-curricular.

We talked and passed notes all day until it was time to go to his house. I grabbed my bag from my locker and rushed to meet him out by the front entrance. He was right, his new house was really close to the school.

We walked in and he told me his parents wouldn't be home for a while because they worked late, but that his brother was probably there.

As if on cue his brother walked into the entryway.

"Hey Chris, who's that?" He asked, eating potato chips.

"It's Victoria, you remember her, don't you?" Christian asked his brother. Was I that unrecognizable?

"Oh! Vicky! Hey! What's up?" He asked excitedly once he pieced me with the girl that they left two years ago.

"Not much, you?" I smiled at him anxiously. My anxiety was always there, even if in the corners of my mind. But a different smile from the one I gave Christian.

"Same old same old." He replied as Christian took my hand and led me up some stairs and down a hallway. Butterflies filled my stomach immediately, something I hadn't felt in forever and something I didn't understand.

"This is my room." He announced as we walked into a bedroom. I started blushing even though I knew nothing was going to happen. I noticed a camera in the corner of his room.

"What's that?" I asked, walking over to it and pointing.

"What do you think?" He laughed.

"I know what it is. I meant what is it for?"

"Oh, I make videos. They're random but it's something to do." He replied walking over and sticking his hands in his pockets in a boyish way. I never really knew how much I missed him until I saw him again.

"That's cool. Can I watch one?"

"Uh, maybe later." He said awkwardly.

"Okay." I laughed. It felt amazing after the past two years of crying constantly. I sat my bag down next to Christian's bed as I sat on the bed. I looked around his room, at the stuffed animals on the bed and the computer in the corner.

"So, are you going to tell me about what went on that night?" Christian's soft voice snapped me from investigating his room with my eyes.

"Oh." My voice cracked. "Um, I, uh, don't really know how to say it "

"Say what?"

"My, um, my mom. She, she died in sixth grade on January 13th, and ever since my dad has been addicted to alcohol. And, uh, because of that alcohol he gets a little... Angry. And I'm the only thing around he knows how to take his anger out on." I told him quietly.

"Victoria, does- does your father a- abuse you?" His voice match his face: horrified.

"Yes." I choked out. I hadn't realized I was crying. "That night, he punched me in the back as I was talking to you. Then he pulled me by my hair and threw my on the ground, where he proceeded to kick me for god knows how long." My voice was quiet as I relived the nightmare.

"Victoria, why didn't you tell me?!" He asked, grief warping his beautiful voice. "I could've done something!"

"What? What could you have done? You were on the opposite coast, Christian. You wouldn't have been able to do anything." I told him, my voice not holding any malice, only sounding deflated.

"What's that?" He asked unexpectedly.

"Huh?" I asked, looking at him. I followed his eyes and noticed he was looking at my arms, where my sleeves had come up.

"Crap." I mumbled, pulling them down.

He gently grabbed my arms and pulled the sleeves back up. The look on his face killed me. I never wanted to be the one to put that look on his face.

"Why?" He whispered, meeting my eyes. His were filling with tears, too. "Why would you do this to yourself, Victoria?"

"I- I felt worthless. I didn't know what else to do since I couldn't talk to you." He began to trace the scars with his finger lightly, trying to stay away from the fresh ones.

"Please try to stop. For me?"

I was lost in his eyes and over whelmed with a feeling I couldn't describe as I replied. "I promise."

The rest of the day went by as we talked about everything, trying our best to stay off touchy topics. It sounds cliche, but I swore I felt like I was finally needed by someone and that someone finally cared for me. I'd never felt so happy and loved in my life.

But, like always, the sun began to set and his parents came home. They came into the doorway that Christian left open, and told me in the nicest way possible that it was time for me to get home. I'd forgotten how nice parents could be, but I quickly shot a look of panic towards Christian who understood immediately.

"Hey, um, could we have a couple seconds to say bye?" As he said that I knew it sounded like we were going to kiss to his parents, and I'll admit I started blushing.

"Oh, alright." His mom told us in a tone that made me blush deeper "But only a couple minutes."

As soon as his parents walked down the hallway I started pleading in a whisper. "Christian, I can't go home. Please don't make me, I can't take being hurt after all the happiness I've experienced today. Please, Christian."

"They'll notice if you don't leave, and they'll notice if you walk back inside..." He thought aloud. I tried to keep tears from streaming down my face at the horror that would inevitably wait at the place I called home only out of habit.

"Can I sneak back in? Like through a window or something and just hide in your closet if someone comes to check on you?"

"That.. That might actually work. Okay, so there's a ladder outside of the shed, it's not that heavy and not too far to walk from my window. And since my parents get up around nine to make sure I got to school, and my brother gets up around ten.. It might actually work." He look as if we had just accomplished something.

"Okay, so I'll just walk around until your parents are settled in on the couch, or something?" I questioned, for the first time in forever allowing myself to hope.

"Yeah, so maybe about an hour. Do you have something to keep time on?"

"No, can I borrow a watch?"

"Sure," He reached at the watch on his nightstand and handed it to me. "It lights up, too, just click this button." He showed me how to work it and I slipped it in the pocket of my sweatshirt as we walked outside, Christian announcing he'd be walking me home on the way out of the door.

"Want to take a tripe down memory lane?" I asked, smiling at him. I knew our plan was going to work, it just had to.

"Sure. We can walk down your street and then turn back and walk back towards my house. There's a bus stop bench somewhere around here, you can wait there if you want instead of walking around." As if on cue, the bus stop came into view.

We walked and talked and eventually we wound up at the bus stop again.

"It won't be that long, just wait until about ten." It was nine thirty now, I wouldn't have to wait that long. "And don't forget: try not to make a lot of noise. We don't want to get busted on our first try." He smiled at me before walking away and I let the warmth of his smile heat my cheeks to a blush.

I sat on the bench and took in the scenery as I waited. With about five minutes to spare I heard someone walking up behind the bench. I balled my hands into fists as I waited for them to pass, eventually they did and as soon as my five minutes were up I sprinted to Christian's house.

I slowed to a walk as I went around back and located the shed. I found the ladder with ease and I carefully placed the ladder in its position. I slowly began to climb, praying that nothing would go wrong. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found his window slightly open and his screen popped out.

I opened the window with one hand and slowly slid in. No one was in his room, so I just guessed he was talking to his parents and keeping them distracted. I made sure the closet was easy to escape to if I heard anyone coming.

Soon I heard footsteps and I dashed into the closet, shutting it to barely a crack as whoever it was entered the room. I glanced out the crack between the closet door and the doorjamb and saw Christian shut the door to his room and check his window.

I slowly moved out of the closet and gave him a smile. "Thanks for letting me stay. I couldn't face him tonight."

"No problem." He smiled back and I noticed his hair was wet, he must have taken a shower.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I asked, biting my lip as I felt the urge to go.

"The door right next to mine that way." He told me, pointing to the left.

"Thank you." I told him as I quietly walked out of his room and escaped to the restroom. I made sure the coast was clear before I slipped back into his room where he was making a bed on the floor.

"You can sleep on my bed, and I can sleep on the floor." He told me, placing pillows on the comforters.

"No, I can sleep on the floor. It'd be easier to hide from your parents or brother if they came in here." I said, carefully getting to my stomach as I looked under his bed. There was enough space for me to hide.

"Oh, okay." He flopped on his bed and turned on the tv he had in the room. I laid on the make-shift bed as he flipped through the TV guide.

I eventually fell asleep but woke up at every little sound. An hour and a half before we had to get up I got up completely and tried figuring out how to work the television. Eventually I gave up trying to change the channel and just looked at Christian's room. I somehow ended up watching Chris sleep. Wondering what he was dreaming of as his eyes fluttered, watching his clothed chest rise and fall evenly with sleep breathing. I turned off his alarm, remembering how he used to wake me up during the summer and sleepovers before he left. I still couldn't really believe he was back.

Soon enough it was time to wake him up and I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out as I shook him.

He started laughing as he looked at me. "I remember when I used to wake you up like that."

"That's the point." I told him, smiling back. He sat up and made room, patting the spot next to him.

"How long have you been up?" He questioned as he yawned.

"An hour and a half. Couldn't really sleep." I told him, shrugging and handing the remote to him.

"Ahh," he used the remote to turn off the tv instead of changing the channel. "Come on, I bet your hungry." He led me out of his room after checking and then down the stairs and into the kitchen.

He opened cabinets and took out all he had for breakfast I picked out a pack of chocolate pop tarts and a glass of milk and waited for the pop tarts to warm up.

That day went by the same as the first, talking and passing notes and hanging out at his house. We talked until it was time for me to go to my house, and this time I said I'd go. I hid in my room that night and prayed that my dad would pick the lock on my door, and as if my prayers were answered I wasn't abused that night.