Starting Over

Catching Up

We had just gotten into Jimmy's room when he shut his door and screamed, "FUCK!" Just for fun, because he had installed sound proof panels on his walls last year. "So, Bri. I knew you were unhappy at your parent's place, but why the hell did you run like that? And calling someone from a pay phone when you're a mile away is so fucking classy, man." Jimmy looked a mixture of concerned and a bit aggravated at my abrupt appearance at his house when I hadn't even bothered to call in the past five months.

"That's a long story, Jimbo." I sigh.

"Well then, sonny boy. You'd best get talkin'. I ain't got all night." Jimmy used his poor excuse of a Southern accent when he was trying to get people to talk.

I smile slightly and it quickly fades when I recall why I packed my bags. "Alright, whatever." I sit on Jimmy's bed and slowly speak. Trying to get everything out, "So, the worst of it started when I came home from your house last time. I walk in the door and immediately I'm harassed about what I did and who I was with and what we were doing and shit like that. When I didn't answer my dad shoved me against the wall with his arm to my neck and he pressed hard," I pull down the collar of my turtle neck to show the long, thick bruise across my windpipe. "Ever since mom and McKenna died he's been totally different. Even with his new whore. And she IS a whore. She came into my room a week later and practically begged me to fuck her. Of course, I said 'no' because I have no clue where she's been plus I'm... I'm... just not attracted to people. Like at all. My dad hit me and called me a 'dirty fag whore' the night I left. He's treated me like this for the past few years, but never this bad. This time he took his belt off and whipped me with it. It was fucking awful, Jim." I start to sob just remembering what happened and how I couldn't breathe. I hated to think of my father like that. He used to be so cool. I used to look up to him. I guess after mom, he kinda lost it.

Jimmy sat there wide-eyed and staring at me until I burst into tears. He jumped up and hugged me as tightly as he could, not caring if the was pressing against my bruises. I honestly didn't care either. It felt so good to be held by someone who didn't use me as a punching bag and actually gave a shit about me.

Once I had stopped crying we heard a knock on the door. Katie, Jimmy's younger sister, about 16, walked into the room and grinned when she saw me. Without saying a word she ran into the room, hugged me, kissed my cheek, and then whispered something to Jimmy. He laughed and got up and fished something out of his bedroom closet. Katie has a speech impairment so the only person she actually speaks to is Jimmy. He's the only one that's patient enough and understands what she's trying to say, plus the fact that she's extremely embarrassed about it. When Jimmy finally finds what he was looking for he pulls it out of his giant, walk-in closet. It was a purple and green Fender Strat. She took the guitar from him and sat down next to me and put the guitar over her knee.

"She's been practicing so hard," Jimmy said proudly. He loved his sister so much. They were best friends, and I was totally okay with that.

Katie plugged the guitar into the amp and gently strummed the strings. Once the guitar was tuned to her liking she began to play. She played the song I tried to teach her last time I was here, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns and Roses. It was one of her favorite songs and I knew it by heart, so I figured, why not?

She played the song flawlessly and the smile on her face only got wider when it came to the bridge of the song. I payed close attention to her hand movements so I could give her pointers if she needed them. All I saw were very skilled fingers playing up and down the fret board.

When she finished the song, she looked over to me with a huge grin on her face.

"Beautiful. That was amazing! I am so proud of you!"

She blushed a deep red and then her stomach growled. We all laughed. That's the only noise I have ever heard from Katie. Aside from a cough or a sneeze, she laughed. She didn't laugh often, but when she did everyone smiled.

About twenty minutes of just chatting we were called down to dinner by Mrs. Sullivan. Tomorrow was my first day of school. This should be excellent.