Page 10 of Saving Tracey
Chapter Three
As soon as I walked into my house after I got home from school, I could tell that something was wrong. I quietly shut the front door behind me, taking in the silence, hoping to God that the instinct in my stomach was wrong and that no one was home.
Then, I heard my mother's scream of pain.
I winced, my heart pounding erratically in my chest. I knew exactly what he was doing to her, and I knew just how much it hurt.
I tiptoed down the hall to my room and gently set my school bag on the floor, praying and hoping that he wouldn't realize I was at home yet. Sighing softly, I looked at the blood stains on my floor.
Some things you just couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard and long you scrubbed at them.
No matter how many times I scrubbed myself until my skin was blood red, I couldn't get rid of the feeling of his hands on me, just like I couldn't get the blood stains out of my carpet, no matter how long and hard I scrubbed at them.
I sat on my bed and dropped my head into my hands, listening to my mother sob and cry in the other room, begging him to stop hurting her. I hated the life that I was forced to live. I just wanted out of it, but I knew that my mother had a second sense for when I was trying to commit suicide, and she would only come to stop the process.
My heart pounded in my chest, nausea swirling in my stomach when I heard my parent's bedroom door open. I tensed up, holding my breath—terrified. My dad stepped into my room—naked. I quickly looked away from him, swallowing down the vomit that rose in the back of my throat.
His footsteps echoed off the walls as he walked toward me, shoving me backward on my bed. "No!" My voice hurt from screaming at him, my throat sore. Tears streaked down my cheeks.
His face contorted with rage at my defiance, and his fist connected with my rib cage with a bruising, punishing blow, making me release a pain-filled scream.
I watched with wary eyes as Kaleb sauntered up to me, a smile on his face. "Our deal is still on, right?"
"Sadly.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
He rolled his eyes at my response as well, but he didn't say anything more. I walked beside him toward the library, where he chose a table near the back, away from the librarian who seemed to have ears like a hawk. She hated any kind of noise.
It was one of the reasons I loved coming here.
We sat down, and it took everything in me to keep my pain from flashing across my face. My dad had definitely donea fucking number on me yesterday, and I was really feeling it today.
"How can you stand to always be alone?" I turned wide, shocked eyes to his face, not expecting his question. "I feel like I would go crazy if I didn't have friends."
Oh, he had no idea. It was always lonely, and it sucked.
"You get used to it," I shrugged, only to regret the movement afterward.
Fuck, my entire body hurt.
Kaleb smiled. "Well, I'll be your friend." I choked on my spit, staring at him incredulously, my eyes wide with shock. "You know me well enough, right?"
Hatred filled my eyes once the shock wore off. Honestly, after what I had just endured the night before, I would have loved nothing more than to have a friend that I could confide in, but I couldn't. Talking to Kaleb, even for school-related purposes, was dangerous enough.
If my dad found out about this . . .Fuck, I didn't even want to begin to think about that scenario.
"I don't want friends." Ihadto force myself to come off cold and angry.
He shrugged as if I hadn't just told him no. "I've had a lot of time to think after our conversation yesterday, and I really think you need a friend to help that hostile attitude of yours." I narrowed my eyes at him, my anger rising. "You need a new view on life. Who better to help you than me?" He gestured to himself.
I clenched my gloved fists in my lap. "I don't need help." My hackles were rising. "My views on life are perfectly fucking fine."
Kaleb released a low whistle, arching an eyebrow. "Man, you've got a temper. I really think you could use a friend. You'd feel better."
Did he not know when to call something quits?
And no, I wouldn’t feel better. Having a friend meant hiding thousands of secrets. That would only make me even more miserable than I already was, knowing that my 'friend' would trust in me completely, and yet, I would be lying out of my ass ninety-nine percent of the time.
That wasn't friendship.
