The Day All The Statues Came To Life

When I was little, I had the horrible habit of biting my fingers. Not my nails, but rather the actual skin, leaving the tips all busted up and bruised. It was a combination of the stress of my home life, what with my father leaving his 8 and 9 year old daughters home alone all night, constantly having to move, and then my mother leaving us high and dry. The first time a teacher noticed was in third grade, and it led to a call from my family, and coincidentally it was the first time my father ever hit me.
After that, I became better at hiding it, band-aids were becoming my best friends, and when teachers asked, I slammed my fingers in a door, or my cat had bitten them. I guess the teachers knew better than to interfere, because they let my excuses slide, and I became known as accident prone. Helpful to my father, who ever since he first hit me hadn’t ever stopped.
In seventh grade, I had gotten called to the front office to see the principal, and it resulted in a near panic attack. Had someone finally found out what happened when I got home at night? Had I done something that would get me kicked out of school? Had someone finally noticed the injuries and put 2 and 2 together?
The hyperventilating only got worse when I found my father, looking like he had just rolled off the couch, oh wait, that’s exactly what he did, sitting in the principal’s office. He was furious, Mr. Stevens was elated. “Teagan!” He said happily, as the secretary ushered me into a chair. “Good, now we can begin.”
My father grunted.
In all honesty, I was so panicked I didn’t even hear what was being said, just a word here and there: “IQ Test”, “Highest in the school”, “134! Mr. Marshall, you must-“
The look my father gave me was blatant and clear: I was in trouble. “I suppose she’s been showing off again.” My father grunted. His response to learning I was practically MENSA level.
My principal’s smile slid off his face. “No, not at all. Teagan is a wonderful student. Her teachers all love her.”
“Then why’d you call me here?” Dad seethed. He was like a Jack in the Box, and the principal was slowly turning the handle and he was about to spring out of the box at any second. I wanted to tell Mr. Stevens to just drop it, but I just bit on my finger instead.
“We…we think Teagan should be put in an advanced school, somewhere she can really be challenged, our staff wants the best for her, it’s a remarkable gift.”
“Absolutely not.” My father roared. “I will not have some daughter of mine parading around some special school letting everyone tell her how smart and brilliant-“
“Mr. Marshall! It wouldn’t be like that! Teagan should be-“
“How dare you tell me how to raise my girl!”
“I would never dream-“
My father cursed him out and turned to leave, before Mr. Stevens made one last brave stand: “May we at least have your permission to let her skip a grade. Please Mr. Marshall.”
“Whatever.” And with that he left.
That night my dad hit me more than he ever had before, but that was also the night I learned to stop feeling.
“Tea? You here?” My sister’s voice floated softly into my thoughts, but I brushed them away. “Tea?” She called again, but I saw her vague outline in my peripheral vision as she stepped into the living room. “What’s wrong?” He voice was harder now, and less easy to ignore. I rolled my head over on the couch so I could look at her directly on. She gasped. “Teagan, no!” I ignored her again and rolled back to look at the cushion on the couch.
I heard her go into the kitchen and heard something rattling around before she bustled back in and placed something cold on my black eye.
I gasped in pain.
“Here,” She said dropping the plastic bag in her hand, lifting up my shoulders and placing my head in her lap, gently dabbing the ice on my eye and cheek again. She didn’t ask why he had hit me, she didn’t ask to talk, she didn’t ask if I was okay, and I was grateful for it. She knew that I would be okay; wasn’t I always? Didn’t I always bounce back within the hour, turn back into the headstrong, persevering, hardworking, fucking one dimensional human I always was? She was running her fingers through my hair, but my frustration with myself was over flowing. Hadn’t I stayed up all night to care for the bastard? Hadn’t I worked myself to the bone for every single fucking person in my life? I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I had worked myself to the point where I was so numb that I wasn’t even sure if up was down, if love was hate, if friends were enemies, if sisters were babies, if I was worth it or just plain trash. I had spent my life for other people. And then when someone told me: you have brains, you have beauty, you can rule the fucking world if you want to, just spend some time on yourself, I turn them out? Jude, Jake, Ryan, Lily…all of them for some strange reason wanted something more for me, something I didn’t think was possible anymore.
I felt like I was waking up. Slowly but surely, I was becoming aware of what I had turned into. The person inside was not who I showed the world, and now I wasn’t sure which one I liked more. I was confused, I felt like I had been seeing in black and white, and now I was Dorothy in the Land of Oz, and everything was painfully bright and colorful. But for some reason, I wanted to be back in Kansas again, where everything was familiar, and dull, and predictable.
“Your phone is buzzing.” Bex said gently, lifting up the ice.
I shrugged.
She looked down. “It’s been buzzing.” She corrected herself, flipping it open. “Seven missed calls: 2 from Ryan, 2 from Jude, one from Lily, one from Jake? He must have been looking for me, and one from James, not to mention a shit ton of texts.”
I reached up and took the ice from her. “What’s in the bag?” I asked.
“Just some things.” She said, shoving it out of the way with her foot. My phone started buzzing again, and Bex answered for me. “Hello? No, this is Bex. Oh, hi James,” She shot me a look. “Yeah, I’ll make sure she knows. Yeah, she’ll be there in an hour. Ok see you.”
I looked at her. “I didn’t want to go anywhere.”
She shook her head. “This is James we are talking about. The one you’ve been in love with, and now he’s your boyfriend which you’ve wanted for forever, so if he wants you to come over, you go over. Got it? Now get up.”
She yanked me up and led me to our room where she pulled out some clothes from the bags that Lily had given me. “Put these on.” It was easier to do what she said then argue, so I put on the black dress she handed me. She then proceeded to do my makeup, taking special care to dab makeup gently on my bruised eye and cheek, did my hair to curly perfection, before handing me her beloved electric blue pumps that she had found at a thrift store. “Perfect.” She said smiling. “You are so pretty, Tea.”
“Not as much as you.” I grumbled.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She snapped. “You have Mom’s bone structure.”
We both paused for a second. Bex had said the “M” word.
“Have you…have you talked to her since-“
“No.” She said defensively. “Like you said, she doesn’t deserve it. But…”
“But what?” I snapped.
“Maybe you should. Talk to her, I mean. She has money. She could pay for college.”
“I’m not going to college Bex.” I said furiously. “And I’m not discussing this right now.”
Suddenly, Bex’s eyes filled with tears and her lip trembled. “Bex?” I said hesitantly. I couldn’t believe she was about to cry! We had had this conversation a million times before.
“No, no.” She cried, flinging her hand out to stop me from coming closer, wiping her eyes furiously with her other hand. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s not you. I just…have a lot on my mind. Just go, okay?”
“Do you need-“
“Just go!” She said harshly, and swung herself into the bathroom.

I didn’t go to James first. I went to Ryan’s, pounding on the door.
“Jesus Christ, someone better be fucking dying-“ Ryan swore as he swung open the door, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Teagan? What the fuck happened to your face? Get in here.”
I stepped inside and Ryan crushed me in a hug, holding his cigarette so it didn’t get on me. “Are you okay?” He demanded, stepping back, and cupping my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him.
“I’m fine.” But the question made me want to cry. No, I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been okay for a long time. I wanted someone to fix it again. He looked at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I came to apologize.” I said with difficulty.
“I should be fucking apologizing.” He said, letting go of my chin. “And I should be calling the cops for what that bastard did to you.”
“I fell down stairs.” I said quickly, running a hand through my hair in exasperation.
“Funny, those stairs must trip you all the time because that was your excuse last time was. And tell me Teagan,” He said continuing over my blushing. “How exactly do stairs give you a black eye and a bruise shaped like a fist?”
“They were angry at me I guess.” I snapped.
“Just admit it.”
“I have nothing to admit. I just came to apologize for getting mad at you. I know you were only looking out for me.”
He shook his head. “I can’t figure you out sometimes-”
“Pass on the message to Jude, okay? He helped me out a lot last night, and I wish I could thank him in person, but I have to go soon. Oh, and Jake too, God knows I’ve fucked up that a lot. ”
Ryan nodded briefly, his jaw set, looking furious.
I touched his arm, “Stop trying to rescue me. I do this to myself.”
His jaw clenched again, “Which only makes me want to help you more, you know.”
I sighed and considered him for a moment. “Why are you here? I thought you were moved into your apartment already?”
“Just getting some last minute stuff.”
“Like?”
“Like my parent’s favorite lamp.” He said nodding over to a small pile of boxes, where an extravagant lamp was sitting. “Ought to piss them off a lot.”
I laughed, but it sounded kind of like a sob. What was wrong with me? “I’ll see you later?”
He looked me up and down. “James?”
I nodded, finding it difficult to swallow.
“Alright.” He said reluctantly. And then as if reading my mind, he said, “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, you know.”
I didn’t bother responding. We both knew I wasn’t wired that way.

I went to James.
But it felt wrong.
His hands gave me goose bumps but not in the way they had before. I wasn’t turned on. Kissing him seemed like a chore. I just lay there, looking at the wall while he had his way with me.
The sad thing was, I don’t think he even noticed. I don’t think he noticed I wasn’t there.

I went home, and showered. I turned the water as hot as it would go, until it scalded my skin, turning my gold skin to bright red. I wanted to feel something, anything. But it still felt numb.

I woke up to Bex crying next to my bed. “Tea?” She whispered through her tears.
“Bexy? What’s wrong?” I sat up, feeling alarmed.
“Can…can I sleep with you?” Her voice cracked. “P-please?”
“Of course.” I scooted over to let her in.
I didn’t sleep at all. I traced small circles on Bex’s back until her sobs turned to hiccups, which turned into sighs, which turned into deep breathing. I stayed awake until the sun rose up, and filled our dingy room with light, ready to be there if she needed me.