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Betrayal |
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You can't run from your past |
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Best Friend Means I pull the trigger |
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Betrayal
Creative
 Created on 5-18-07
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 Story Rating G
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The footsteps pounded down the hall, closer and closer. Shivering in her closet, Emma pulled the coat tighter around her head. Hearing her door slam open, she held her breath, wishing she could just disappear. “Where are you, you stupid girl,” yelled the man. “Don’t try hiding, it won’t help you this time,” he slurred, stumbling towards her bed. Bending over he groped around wildly, reaching into the darkest depths under her bed. Finding nothing, he sat back on his heels, hands on his knees. Then slowly he stood up and drudged out the door, closing it softly behind him. Counting to three Emma quietly took off the coat, opened the closet door a crack, freezing when it creaked. Hesitating, she listened for any sounds of him. Hearing nothing, she quickly climbed out of the closet.
“There you are,” he boomed, pushing the door open so hard it dented the wall, “did you think you were smarter then me?” Grabbing her by the shoulders he shook her, waiting for a response. Finding none, he picked her up and threw her across the room. “Get up, you stupid girl,” he sneered. Going to her small huddled frame, he kicked her, and upon hearing her small squeak picked her up and placed her on her feet. “What did you say you little runt? Speak up I can’t hear you,” he screamed. He pushed her causing her to stumble backwards.
Trying to catch her footing, Emma knew she was in trouble. She could smell the scotch on his breath, a smell she detested. The red in his eyes, the slurred speech, stumbled steps, it was all there. Placing her tongue against her lip she could taste the blood. She also felt a bruise forming on her left side, right where he kicked her. Watching him come over she tensed, waiting for the next blow. Stopping just in front of her he mocked, “No tears yet Emma? I guess I’m not doing a good enough job.” Emma just stared back expressionless. She knew better by now. “You must never cry Emma,” her mother once said, “never let him see you cry.” So she didn’t. “Where are you now mother,” she thought to herself, “why can’t you make this all stop?” But she knew that would never happen. It never did. Her mother just left her there, alone with this monster. She didn’t even come to check up on Emma anymore. She hated her for that. Her silent absence was the worst betrayal to Emma.
Suddenly, searing pain. Crumbling to the floor she was met with kicks, and instinctively curled up into the fetal position, covering her face with her arms. Time seemed to stop now. She didn’t even feel the incessant blows anymore. Her body was completely numb. And just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The man, looking down at the pathetic heap on the floor, laughed and simply walked out, mumbling something about another scotch.
Emma continued to lay there, her body finally acknowledging the shock. Trying to sit up, she found she couldn’t move her right wrist. “Probably broken,” she thought. Using her other hand for support, she slowly slid across her floor and onto her bed. Pulling the blankets over her head she assessed her other injuries. Aside from multiple bruises up and down her body, she had a bloody lip, and swollen cheek, which had already turned an ugly mixture of dark blue and purple. Finding she couldn’t sleep, she lay in bed, thinking of what had just happened. “Why me,” she asked out loud in a shaky voice. “Why does this happen to me? Why doesn’t my mother help me?” Thinking of her mother she was filled with anger. Her mother, who betrayed her each night, refusing to see beyond her own denial. The mother who left her to suffer here, alone. The memory of the man filled her head, and the one question she asked herself everyday came to mind. “Why can’t my father love me,” she asked. Then the tears came. And with that the sobs, gut wrenching sobs, from the depths of her battered, broken soul. A girl, betrayed by her mother and father. She cried, finally falling asleep knowing that this was just another day.Comments
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