Page 5 of Saving Tracey
Panic gripped my chest. I couldn't tell him the real reason for that. I couldn't tell him I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, to make friends. I couldn’t tell him that I lived in constant fear every day of my father finding out I even had someone look in my direction. I couldn’t let him know that I wanted to do nothing more than kill myself, and I didn’t want friends because I didn’t want anyone to miss me.
I could never tell him the truth, and yet, I was so terrified that he would look right through me and see everything that I was trying so desperately to hide.
My name was called over the intercom to come up to the front office to leave before I could give him some sarcastic,half-assed answer. My heart stuttered in my chest. Goosebumps crawled over my skin, and chills shot down my spine. I felt myself break out in a slight sweat again.
This wasn't good. This meant he'd had a bad day. A bad day meant that there was a very high possibility that I wouldn't be able to make it to school tomorrow.
I'd much rather stay behind and play twenty questions with Kaleb, I thought grimly.
I slowly got out of my seat, desperately trying to hide the panic clawing up my throat, making it hard to breathe.
"Because I never wanted to be noticed," I told Kaleb in answer to his question before I hurried out of the classroom.
I blinked awake in the darkness, instantly grimacing at the pain and discomfort radiating throughout my entire body, specifically in my lower regions. Gathering my senses, I realized that I was in my bedroom, and my clothes were lying on the floor beside me. A sheet was covering my body, and I was in a terrible amount of pain.
Every single part of my body hurt.
I forced myself off the dirty carpet and wrapped the sheet tight around my frame. There was blood on the carpet where I had been laying. I forced myself to look away from it when I felt the nausea roll through my stomach, remembering what I had just endured a couple of hours ago.
I was always his first option for a release.
Walking into my bathroom, I stood in front of my mirror, letting my eyes trail over my body. Whereas my body was bruised and blemished, some parts even swollen from the blows I had received, my face was clear of any marks.
My face was always perfect. It was the only thing he could tolerate about me—that, and he knew bruises on my face would be hard to hide.
Someone banged on the front door, and I cringed at the loud sound. After tugging on some sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt, and a scarf, I jogged down the hall to the door. It hadn't seemed like my parents were home, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I'd much rather they be gone.
I opened the door a tiny bit and peeked out to see who was standing on my front porch. Kaleb stood on the cement blocks that made makeshift steps to the front door. My eyes widened in alarm, and I internally panicked.
He couldn't fucking be here!
"Can I help you?" I asked him, my tone coming off cold and void of any emotion as I kept the door open only a crack.
"Yeah. We're supposed to hang out,” he reminded me. I swallowed hard. "I asked around to see if anyone knew you, but they didn't, so I asked my mom to get me your address." He looked around him, looking a little uneasy.
I couldn't really blame him for his uneasiness. I didn't live in the best neighborhood. It would take a blind man to miss the graffiti covering the sides of buildings and houses and the smashed beer bottles on the side of the street, by the curb, and on the sidewalk. This wasn't Kaleb's kind of scene, and I knew it raised questions in his mind as to why I lived here.
But it wasn’t any of his fucking business, and I needed him to leave.
"I'm not hanging out with you,” I sneered, bringing his attention back to me. "You should go home, and don't fucking return," I added on at the end.
"Tracey, who's at the door?!" I heard my dad shout from within the house.
I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea swirled in my belly and fear crept up my spine.Why couldn't he just have been gone like I'd thought he was?
"Go. Home,” I snarled at Kaleb.
I slammed the door closed in his face and turned to face my dad as he came down the hallway. He was still naked from his time spent with me, and I forced myself not to cringe or cry as I quickly remembered what he had done to me only a little while ago.
"It was no one," I told him, keeping my eyes fixed on his hairy chest. "Someone was asking me if I had seen their cat,” I lied.
He nodded, buying it easily enough. I breathed a slight silent sigh of relief. "Your mother should be home in a little while. Clean yourself up,” he commanded.
I nodded and rushed down the hall to my room, desperate to get out of his presence. Besides, if my mom wasn't home yet, maybe I could actually accomplish what I had been trying to do for three years now.
I forced the pills down my throat.
