Chapter 3 ⚫ Continuing
I groan, waking up to the sun hitting my face.
I hop out of bed and go straight into my bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Today was Sunday, therefore, my uncle would only be here for about three hours, then leave without a word. I don’t know exactly where he goes, he just leaves. I’ve never questioned it because I could honestly care less. I glance at the clock to see that it was only ten in the morning. I took that as my cue to smoke a joint. Lighting it up, I let the smoke consume me.
I love weed
Normally if someone was going through, the stuff I went to through. They would cut themselves. I’ve tried cutting myself from time to time, and the only thing it did was hurt like a bitch. And when my uncle saw my act of self-harm, he poured vinegar on all of my cuts. He said that the only person that could hurt me was him. Self-harm did nothing for me but cause me more pain.
Realizing that cutting only leaves behind scars, I asked myself, “Why to make scars of your own, when your uncle makes them all for you?”
Smoking is my self-harm, my release.
When I was done smoking I went to prepare myself some food. I also made a mental note to stop at Kevin’s house to get more Mary Jane. Finished with making my breakfast, I decided to make some lemonade. I feel hands wrap around my waist. My heart rises, knowing that it’s my uncle. “Did you make me some?” He asks, whispering in my ear.
“Yes, sir.” I lie. I didn’t make him any, but he could take mine if it got him out the house faster.
“I don’t want that type of breakfast. I have something different in mind.” He says.
He turns me around so that I was facing him. He tries to lift up my shirt, but I take a step back. My uncle lets out an angry groan and shakes his head. He quickly grabs a sharp knife from the kitchen drawer. Before I could even register what was happening, he pins me down on the counter. I struggle as much as I could, but it was too late. My uncle uses the knife and slices the middle part of my stomach. I scream out in pain. This pain was unbearable. He slaps the shit out of me, causing me to wince.
He was going to cut me again but stops when he hears a knock at the door. I was still crying because the cut hurt so much. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” He whispers yell at me. My uncle lets me go and sets the knife back onto the counter. He washes his hands and fixes his shirt. “Go in the room and clean yourself up. I don’t want to see a trace of what just happened to you.” I sat still, unable to move. “Go!” He yells. With all the force I could muster up I lift my self up and run to my bathroom. I reach under the bottom cabinet and grab the first aid kit. I take out the bandages and alcohol and took a deep breath before pouring the alcohol on the cut.
My breath becomes uneven but I still wrap the cut. When I hear my name being called I quickly ran out of the bathroom and threw on a pair of jeans and my black sweatshirt. I fix my hair and wipe the tears from my eyes. Before taking a deep breath and walking to where my uncle was standing. My uncle pulls me by my shirt and squeezes my jaw.
“There are two guys outside who want to talk to you. I recognized them as our friend Leo sons.” He says, with a glare. He lets go of me and picks up his phone off the counter. “Leo won’t be happy about this. I don’t care what you do, just get rid of them. I’m going out. I’ll deal with you when I get back.” He says leaving out the front door.
I let out a deep breath before opening the door. Wyatt and Marc were standing outside, watching as my uncle got into his car and drove off. The two hadn’t noticed I open the door yet so I cleared my throat, making them both snap their heads towards me. “What do you guys want?” I ask, jumping right to the point. Wyatt scratches the back of his head, while Marc just stares at me.
“Are you okay?” Wyatt ask. “You look pale.” I wipe the sweat off of my face and try my best not wince. My stomach was killing me.
“I’m black, black people can’t get pale,” I say, “Now what do you want?” I ask, this time harshly. This cut was bothering me and I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for the rest of my body being covered by the door, they would be able to see the blood mixing into my shirt.
“We wanted you to come with us, to the fair,” Marc finally speaks. His voice sent chills down my body.
“I can’t leave the house, sorry,” I say shutting the door. My actions were stopped as soon as a foot was placed in between the door. My eyes trail from the foot to the face of the person it belongs to.
“I’m sorry if you were mistaken, I wasn’t asking. Get dressed and meet us in the car.” He says as if he were a higher power.
Is he commanding me!
“I’m sorry if you hurt your head as a kid, but last time I checked I don’t take orders from you. I don’t even know you like that. Get off my porch, and find someone else to piss off,” I say through clench teeth. Marc’s jaw clenches, but before he could say anything, I slam the door in his face. “Who the hell does he think he is?” I mumble, to myself walking to my bathroom. I jump onto my bed once I was done, fixing myself up. I’m tired and the only thing I want to do is rest.
The pounding was heard at my door, and a familiar voice shouting to open up. I roll my eyes and turn on my radio, putting the volume extra up blocking out the pounding coming from the door. Everything seemed to be normal, until my room door opens, revealing an angry Marc. I jump up in shock, I did not see this coming. Marc towards over me, glaring down at me. The only question on my mind right now was how the hell did he get into my house!
“Get dressed we’re going to the fair. This is my last time saying it,” He says angrily. He starts to walk out my room, but not before speaking again. “Oh and Kelly, the next time you slam a door in my face, I will break off each and every finger off that pretty hands of yours.”
As soon as he left, I threw on a pair of pants and a t-shirt. Ready to go.
We’ve been at the fair for a while and I hate to admit it, but I’m actually having fun. I didn’t get on any of the rides but, still play some games. It was awkward being here with the Russo brothers. There was Wyatt, who would always bring up a memory, trying to be friends again. And then there was Marc, who would just stare at me with an unreadable expression.
We all take a break and sit at a table near the pizza booth. After walking around and standing we are all hungry. We sat in a awkward silence, munching on pizza. Marc’s phone rings causing us all to look at him. He takes his phone out of his pocket and stands up. “I have to take this,” He says, leaving Wyatt and me at the table.
“Kelly... I’m sorry about what happened when we were younger. I shouldn’t have ended our friendship over something so stupid.” Says Wyatt. Truth be told I wanted to slap the crap out of him. I wanted to scream at him and tell him what I went through with my uncle. I wanted to say that if we were still friends, I probably wouldn’t be going through this.
But I didn’t.
“You can’t always say what you want.” The voice inside my head said.
I took a deep breath, about to speak. But before I could say anything, I was interrupted by a high-pitched voice.
“Wyatt is that you?” The high-pitched voice ask. I visibly cringe, and Wyatt groans. A blond girl walks over to our table, her group of friends behind her.
“Rebbeca... hey,” Wyatt says, with a fake smile. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was by people I didn’t know, I would have been burst out laughing. They had their own little conversation, which I cared little about. I zoned out, only to zone back in when I hear the Rebecca chick talk... again.
“Who’s your little friend?” She asks, Wyatt.
Wyatt rolls his eyes. “Kelly, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Kelly.” Wyatt says.
“His girlfriend,” Rebecca adds. I look at her like she was crazy.
He’s not even claiming you
“We are not dating,” She glares at Wyatt then looks back at me with a fake smile. “So, Kelly do you go to our school?”
I bite my tongue before saying, “Yeah.” She only nods.
“Hey, aren’t you that girl that lied about your uncle raping you?” A boy from Rebecca’s group asks. My body tensed.
I hate this town
“Oh, shit dude your right it is her!” Another guy pipes in.
“My dad’s friends with your uncle. Your uncle is a great guy, from what I’ve seen when he comes over to our house,” Some girl says. I felt tears welling in my eyes.
Rebecca starts to laugh. “How could you be friends with a liar?” Rebecca asks Wyatt while laughing. I look at Wyatt and he didn’t say anything.
“Excuse me,” I whisper, walking away. I couldn’t deal with them talking anymore. They didn’t know my uncle like I did. They didn’t deal with the abuse.
They don’t know shit
Hot tears fall from my eyes, but I wipe them away. I hear Wyatt calling my name, but I just keep walking away. I feel someone pull my arm and pull me towards them. I smell male cologne and instantly knew who it was. “Why are you crying?” Marc asks. I wipe my tears and back away from him.
“It’s nothing, I’m going home,” I say, trying to hold back my tears.
“No, obviously it’s something if you’re crying about it angioletto. Tell me. Was it those kids that were with my brother?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. I could tell he didn’t believe me.
“It was them wasn’t it, what did they say?” He asks angrily. His fist balls up and his jaw clenches.
“Just leave it alone... Please,” I beg.
Marc looks me up and down before unclenching his fist and jaw. “Fine angioletto, but only this one time. Anyone hurts you or makes you cry, I’m hurting them.” He says. I mentally smile but then frown.
Why does he care if I’m hurt ?
“Can you take me home now?”
“Sure.” He says. I felt happy because he didn’t say no. “But, only on one condition.”
Just when I thought we were on the same page
“What is it?” I ask impatiently.
A smirk forms on his face. “Get on the Ferris wheel, with me.” He says. I look at him like he was crazy. At the fair, I ignored all the rides that were high. I’m afraid of heights.
“Can’t we just get on another ride?”
Please say yes .
“No, Ferris wheel it is.” He says with a smirk.
“Fine,” I say. He grabs my hands, pulling me towards the ride. I felt this feeling when he touched me. It felt almost magical. We got into line and waited to get on the ride. Every time the line moved up I began to panic.
“It’s okay,” Marc says, rubbing my hand. When it was our time to get on the ride, I squeezed Marc hand and sat down. The ride starts to move, but I keep my eyes close. “Hey, look at me,” Marc says. I open my eyes and look into his. “Let’s play 21 questions.” He suggests.
“Yeah, it’ll keep you distracted.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-three, how about you?”
“I turn eighteen in a few more months. Favorite color?”
“It reminds me of someone close to me. What do you hope to accomplish in life?”
“I want to become a writer... a very successful writer. How about you, what do you want to accomplish in life?”
“I don’t know... I’ve never really thought about it. My whole life I was trained to be someone I didn’t want to be... and now that I’m that person, I don’t think I ever want to change.”
“Oh,” I say not really knowing what else to say.
Shifting sideways, he looks at me, his eyes glistening in the darkness. “Have you ever been kissed?” He asks, breaking the silence. He leans closer to me. His lips were just inches away from mine.
“No,” I whisper.
“Good.” He says with a smirk. “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
Is it me or is it getting hot in here?
“I don’t know,” I mumble, looking him right in the eyes.
“Let’s find out.” His hand reaches under my hair below my ear, his thumb caressed my cheek. Suddenly I see him, his eyes revealing more than his words can express. My lips part and our breaths mingle. My heart flutters as he draws me to his lips. The warmth of his mouth sends heat through my body. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. His lips were so soft and plump. Marc’s hands move down to my stomach, which causes me to pull away in pain.