Chapter 40: Chapter 38

3.5 Years Earlier - Springfield Ohio

I woke up, screaming again, but this time against the sound of the pounding rain against the side of our tin trailer. Raising myself into a sitting position against the wall, I breathed heavily amid the stench of sweat permeating my mattress, and something else pooling about my legs. I groaned at the sensation of warmth and the realization that I would have to wash the sheets before he noticed. God I hated him. Outside my window a blinding storm raged; rain sailed through the air in sheets like an elemental curtain signaling the end of the show, constantly illuminated by flashes of intermittent lightning, a peek at the man behind the curtain.

I collected my strength and pulled myself out of the bed, my feet greeting the cold as they connected with my checkered linoleum floor. With another deep breath, I turned and gathered my sheets, carefully opening the door to the hall and peeking out. A long stretch toward the living room but before that, our little laundry room tucked into a nook behind the wall. Lightning flashed again, casting the hallway and the room beyond in an eerily washed-out light for a brief moment, bring into view the old couch and the kitchen counter just behind it. 

I walked through the hallway amidst the flashes and the hammering of torrential rain, turning to my right to enter the laundry nook. As quietly as humanly possible, I opened the lid to the washing machine and dropped my sheets in. Adding some detergent, I close the lid and twisted the knob. The low hum of the machine sounded as the mechanism began to turn and I stepped away, taking a sharp turn into the darkened living room. Well, it was either go lay on my bare mattress or try to entertain myself for the hour or so while I waiting for my sheets to wash and dry. Instead of resigning myself to flopping down on the itchy fabric of my bed, I stepped over to the computer nestled into the corner of the room. An older laptop, it took a full five minutes to boot to the desktop. I tapped my fingers while I waited, listening to the rain outside as the ‘Windows’ Logo came into view. Finally, the desktop appeared and I double clicked on ‘Skype’ Icon. Kelly was online, as usual. I brought up her message box and began to type.

Lyra: yo bitch u there?

Kelly: lol where else would I be at 3 in the morning?

Lyra: ummmm sleeping? XD

Kelly: too busy stalking darren’s FB page lol

Kelly: and whitney’s over here too

Lyra: he’s not good enough for you.

Kelly: yeah well he’s got the curve?

Lyra: the curve?

Kelly: yeahhhhh you know. Down THERE

Lyra: Huh?

Lyra: oh. EW. KELLY NO

Kelly: yeah sorry i forget u don’t lkike to talk about that lol 

Lyra: spelling?

Kelly: u first bitch

Lyra: can’t talk long probab;y. mom’s boyfriend gets mad if people exist around him

Kelly: does he know?

Lyra: know what?

Kelly: u know

Lyra: does he know I have a dick? prolly not. he’s not that smart.

Kelly: he doesn’t have to be smart to know if u have a dick

Lyra: if he gets close enuf to know i have a dick we have bigger problems. Besides, i look enuf like a girl. Small for my age remember? hair helps lol

The conversation continued for another twenty minutes probably until I heard the washer switch off. I closed out the messenger and stepped across the living room, lifting my knees and prancing around the furniture as if I were playing ‘the floor is lava’. In the laundry room I pulled the wet sheets from the washer and started to deposit them in the dryer, but as I opened it, found that it was full of socks. I cursed silently and laid the sheets on top of the washing machine as I fished the socks out and dropped them into a nearby laundry basket. 

“Now just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jerald’s voice evoked a near-heart attack as I stood and whirled about to see him standing in the doorway. He was an imposing, intimidating man. Dirty blonde hair in a comb over, accompanied by rough features that were not quite visible in the dark. Lightning flashed again, bringing just enough light to illuminate his terrifying muscular features. I gritted my teeth and gestured to my sheets. 

“Sheets were sweaty,” I told him as nonchalantly as I could. “Had to wash them. Wasn’t gonna sleep in stinky sheets.”

“Why’s the computer on?” He demanded, still blocking the exit to the cramped space. I tensed and considered my options. This probably wouldn’t turn into anything, but had he been drinking? I sniffed the air; couldn’t smell any alcohol. Didn’t mean anything though, maybe he mainlined breath mints before he went to bed. 

“Was checking my e-mail,” I shrugged, trying to avoid a defensive tone as much as possible. This was my house, not his. I could check my e-mail at three in the morning if I wanted. 

“No one should be on the computer at three in the morning,” He snapped. “Ain’t nothing but no good you could be up to. I’m putting a password on that thing, I don’t want you on it.”

“Excuse me?” I demanded as he began to walk toward the laptop. “We’ve been using that computer since before you got here! Mom and me both! It’s not yours!”

“In case you haven’t noticed little missy,” He said angrily as he closed the laptop and picked it up. “I’m here now and things is gonna change! Ain’t gonna be no more late night ‘washing the sheets’, and no more using the computer. In fact, I’m gonna look through your messages, see what kind of dirty shit you’ve been sending.”

I froze, my heart nearly stopping in my chest. He couldn’t read those messages. Everything I’d ever sent to Kelly was on that computer. Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, my eyes tracked him and the laptop as he paced the living room, shouting obscenities and ultimatums. This wasn’t his house, he had no say! And yet…

“Jerald, what’s going on?” My mother emerged from the back of the trailer, wrapped in a ‘fluffy’ white robe that had seen better days.

“Lyra’s sneaking around again,” Jerald said, his tone implied that he was nearing the end of this ‘patience’, if there ever was any to begin with. 

“I ain’t sneaking around!” I shouted in protest. “This is my house, mom! Our house! He ain’t got no say, sides I was washing my sheets!”

“And toolin’ around on the computer!” He interjected, dropping the laptop onto the kitchen counter. “ain’t no one up to no good, bein’ on the computer this late! You doin’ illegal stuff? Lookin’ up pornography?!”

“No more than you,” I snapped. “Mom, tell him he ain’t got no say!”

I looked to my mother expecting her to say something, anything, but she simply emitted a soft sigh and turned, disappearing down the hallway, back to the shared bedroom. I gritted my teeth as I watched her, disbelieving, and then flicked my eyes to the black Acer laptop sitting on the edge of the counter. It was my only chance; as Jerald opened his mouth to continue his rant, I lurched forward, wrapping my fingers around the edge as he moved to intercept me. Too late, I jerked backward, toward the door, stumbling over my feet as they pounded against the weak floorboards. He was behind me, my heart raced as I moved closer and closer to the front door and his breath permeated the back of my neck. I didn’t make it; his hand encircled my arm, jerking me back pulling me to the side. I yelped, managing to pull myself loose from his grip, but instead of continuing toward the door, I slipped and launched toward the back of our La-Z-Boy chair, slamming my head on the backboard and letting out a scream as I did. The world spun and my head screamed in pain as my senses vacated. 

What the hell.

“That ain’t your computer,” Jerald snarled. “What you think you’re doing with it?”

There was no sense arguing with him; my head swam and the pain in my forehead quickly became more pronounced; throbbing, stabbing, becoming ever more intense as I coughed and choked. 

“You oughta be grateful,” He said, towering over me, his fists balled and jaw set. An anger all too familiar flowed through him; an anger that I’d seen in all of mom’s other boyfriends. She attracted a type for sure. “You and your mom, you were about out on your asses and I come in here, out of the goodness of my own heart, and I pay your bills, I put food on your table, least you could do is respect my rules! You ungrateful little bitch.”

Using my feet, I pushed myself backward, next to the end table as he moved toward me. He bellowed about teaching me a ‘lesson’ and I took the laptop in my hands and tightened my fingers around the case. A surge of anger mixed with primal far ripped through me as I did a half-turn with my waist and raised the laptop over my head. Swing after swing, I brought it down against the corner of the end table. 

Crack

Crack

You are reading story The Mockreet at novel35.com

Crack

Plastic splintered, screws scattered, and the ancient Acer was left a cracked mess as I lept to my feet and threw it at Jerald as hard as I could. He instinctively threw his hands up, barely deflecting the now useless laptop as it slammed into his forearms. I was already running, feet pounding against the floorboards, my hand on the doorknob, door flying open. I launched myself into the storm, stumbling down the stairs as sheets of rain enveloped me. As I ran forward, barreling past my mom’s old Ford Focus, past Joey’s tiny headstone, jumping over the concrete barrier and bolting between two neighboring trailers, I was gone. I was a ghost plunged into the ether; I had ceased to exist the world was better for it. 

I had no idea if he was following me, all I knew was cold, wet, and loud. Occasional bursts of thunder unsettled my very soul and flashes of lightning guided my path from trailer to trailer. Where was I going? Which was was right? No way was right. No way was right. Between trailers, around propane tanks, bouncing off of a tin shed, and finally, shooting out into the road. Streetlights burned overhead; a moot point when it came to visibility. My bare shoulders took the brunt of the freezing cold and I wrapped my arms about my body against the wind. In the light of the street lamp I screamed my frustrations.

“Why?!” I demanded, my voice swept away like autumn leaves in the rain. “It was our house you bitch! You had no right to bring him in! No right! Fuck!” 

A blast of thunder punctuated my tirade as I stomped my foot into the wet pavement and continued a string of curses that no one could hear. My screams turned into sobs as the storm continued. I lurched forward, toward the divider in the middle of the road, kicking a concrete trash can and screaming in pain. I limped to the other side of the road and dropped to my knees, half on and half off the concrete divider with my palms on the sidewalk. The headlights of a passing car briefly illuminated the world around me; I squeezed my eyes shut in the face of the blunt fresnel luminescence and then rose to my feet, shivering in the cold. Where could I go? What was I going to do? Kelly. I could go to Kelly’s house. It wasn’t too far away, maybe two miles at most. I could make it. 

Arms still wrapped around my chest, I walked forward, stumbling a bit and shaking as I cleared the trailer park and tripped through a flooding ditch. On the other side of the ditch, Ballentine Pike and a short way up, Knollwood Road. All I had to do was keep walking. Just keep walking and hope that no one noticed a lone girl walking alongside the road. Boy, girl, whatever they would call me when they found me. I wasn’t exactly well put together at this point.

The walk took an hour maybe, at least that’s what I thought. It was long and slow, the same muted scenery repeating as I kept to the gravel berm alongside a deep ditch. He wasn’t following me; if he were, he would have caught up to me by now, and if he’d been driving, well, he probably would have hit me and called it an accident. Ahead of me, lighting illuminated a copse of trees as I crossed short bridge; I leaned on the guardrail for support. Below me, in addition to the sound of pouring rain, I could hear the rushing creek bed. My skin was growing cold, probably turning purple; I felt like a popsicle out here; my teeth were chattering and the throbbing in my skull hadn’t gotten any better. If anything it was worse. As I passed the end of the bridge, I felt the gravel give way and my right foot shot out from underneath me; I flailed my arms, desperate to keep my balance, but I fell end over end, sliding down the embankment, coming to rest near the treeline. I tried to regain my feet, but a searing pain shot through my leg, forcing me to drop facedown into the mud. The cold was beginning to overtake me; I could feel new pain forming across my face and my hands found no purchase in the wet soil. A sob escaped my lips as my body weakened and endured torrent after torrent of rainfall. Shit. I was going to die here, at the bottom of this stupid ravine. 

“Get up.”

Who said that? I looked around, numbly, weakly, looking for the voice in a near-apocalyptic darkness but there was none to be found. Stupid, stupid Lyra, now you’re hearing things. 

“You’re almost there, Lyra. Get up!”

“Almost there,” I whispered. “…almost….”

“Get up!” The voice shrieked this time and I jerked myself upright, my head on a swivel as I tried to pinpoint the source of the voice. Nothing, there was nothing, but nonetheless, I pushed forward, stumbling alongside the incline wall with the darkness of the forest on my right. Whatever it was, it was right about the direction. I emerged into Kelly’s backyard, next to a steep incline that led from a small playground to the back door of her house. With some difficulty, I managed to push through the rain and emerged at the top of the incline, and then crossed onto the concrete apron leading to the door. With no more strength to spare, I wobbled slightly, barely managing to press the yellow doorbell before dropping to my knees, my head slamming against the door. 

Breath after ragged breath, I lost track of the seconds as the cold bored a hole into my soul, pushing me closer and closer to the ground. So it had come to this; I was frozen, my body screaming in pain, and my limbs twitching as I waited. The door would open or it wouldn’t; either way, this was the end of the line. 

Fuck you Jerald. Fuck you mom for letting it happen. 

My vision began to spot and finally, I felt the sweet embrace of unconsciousness begin to take me. Fading, falling, finally warm. It didn’t last long: a harsh, rapid patting against my cheek ensued. 

“Lyra!” A voice said to me. A familiar voice. The patting continued. “Lyra honey, wake up, Lyra!”

“Lyra come on,” Another voice said. “Lyra- Jesus, Whitney, call 911!”

“No,” I half muttered and half yelled as I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. I was on the floor inside Kelly’s house; off in a side room that they had planned to repurpose into a living room but had turned more into an accumulation of random junk. My vision was blurry but I could recognize the outline of Kelly; her long hair bound behind her head. Her mother, Martha, and Whitney, her other best friend. She was pretty, way prettier than me with her long blonde hair, medium complexion and pouty lips. I’d always been so jealous of her. Why was I thinking about that now?

“Lyra, honey, lay down,” Martha urged me. “Oh my god, look at her face!”

“Did…did he hit her?” Kelly asked nervously. “Bastard, I knew he would!”

“What is this?” Whitney asked, panic in her voice. “What’s going on?”

“Get her some blankets,” Kelly urged. “Grab that quilt from the back of the couch!”

Moments later I was wrapped in a heavy quilt and being moved gently toward the living room. Martha continued to reassure me, Whitney asked pointed but panicked questions, Kelly cursed angrily.

“Did he find out?” Kelly demanded as I dropped heavily onto the couch. She sat beside me, taking both of my hands in hers. “I’ll kill him!”

“No,” I said in a low whimper, my voice cracked. “He’s…he’s just an asshole.”

“What happened to your eye?” Martha asked. “Did he hit you?”

“Find out what?” Whitney, more than a bit panicked. 

“Nothing,” Kelly snapped. I looked up, my eyes meeting hers as she released my hand and began to rub my arm. “It’s nothing.”

“He’ll find out anyhow,” Martha said. “And then it’ll just be worse.”

“So he’ll kill me,” I said bluntly, shivering beneath the blanket. “and then everyone’ll be better off.”

“Don’t say that!” Martha gasped. “Kelly, put some coffee on!”

Kelly released my hand and trotted off toward the kitchen while Whitney looked around, in confusion.

“Does someone want to like, tell me what’s going on here? Whose going to find out what?” 

“Whitney, get the first aid kit, we need to get something on that eye. God Lyra, you look…oh my god, what did he do to you?”

I shook my head, sinking back into the couch as I began to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry Mrs. Cabot, I”m so sorry!”

“Lyra, honey!” Martha sat down beside me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, her right hand grasping mine. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“It’s…it’s my fault. If I wasn’t…the way I am, I wouldn’t have to be scared of him finding out. Now I’m in your house at four in the morning, soaking your couch and waking you up. I’m just…just a fuck up!”

“Lyra, no,” Martha insisted. “You’re my daughter’s best friend and you’re like a daughter to me. You’re not going back there, you understand?”

“You can’t stop it,” I sobbed. “They’re just gonna take me back there, they always do!”

“Yeah, they do,” She agreed. “And I’ve keep track of every single time. You’re not going back this time. Lyra, you are the way you are because you’re special and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You understand me?”

I nodded as Kelly handed me a mug of coffee.

“I mixed it with some cocoa,” She smiled. “Hope you don’t mind too much.”

“Kelly, can I talk to you?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, looking from me, then to her. Kelly shrugged and motioned for her to follow. I watched as they both walked toward the arch leading into the foyer. 

“Come on,” Martha smiled, giving me a quick hug. “Drink up, then we’ll get you something to wear.”

You can find story with these keywords: The Mockreet, Read The Mockreet, The Mockreet novel, The Mockreet book, The Mockreet story, The Mockreet full, The Mockreet Latest Chapter