Safe and Sound (11 page)

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Authors: Lindy Zart

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BOOK: Safe and Sound
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Lola avoided looking in his direction, keeping her eyes down and head turned to the side.
She had the crazy thought if she was quiet enough, if she didn’t look at him, maybe he wouldn’t notice her.
             

 
“Where the hell have you been?” he growled.

 
She froze. Even in the semi-dark she could see his eyes on her; they seemed to glow with menace.

 
“I was…I was at the park.” Lola inched toward the hall.

 
“School called.”

 
She went still
, back to him. Lola waited, and when he said no more, she turned around. The bottle went to his lips, beer sloshed as he drank. The bottle went back to his lap.

 
The strained silence continued.
Every second that went by was excruciating to Lola.

 
Lola’s heart beat so fast she thought it might burst. She was dead. She was so dead. The cool, calm façade was the worst, because that’s when he was the meanest.
Lola wondered where her mother was, and then wondered why. She wouldn’t do anything even if she was home.

 
“Seems you forgot to mention having detention the other night.
And decided to skip out today.
Looks like you got another detention coming too.
Stupid kid.

 
Lola swallowed, trembling.

 
“So where were you today,
really
?”

 
“I told you—“

 
He struck fast, faster than she thought possible. One minute he was sitting in the chair drinking a beer; the next he was standing and a glass bottle was flying through the air, toward her.
Lola ducked before it hit the wall, the spray of beer wettin
g her hair and skin and clothes; glass falling to the floor around her.

 
“Don’t lie to me!”

 
Tears swam in her eyes. “I—“

 
A sound of rage erupted from his lips and he charged.
Lola spun around, nothing but survival in her mind, and took off for her bedroom.

 

You God
damn
whore
! That’s what you are! Out whoring around when you’re supposed to be in school!”

 
Lola cried out in fear, bumping into the wall in her haste to get away from him. He gained on her, his feet thundering against the carpet.

 
“Mom!
Please! Mom, help!”
Lola banged on the closed bedroom door.
Bob
was behind her and she lurched away.

 
“Your mother
ain’t
gonna
help you
.”
Bob
’s stale breath fanned
the back of
her
neck;
his hairy arm lassoed her to him.

 
Lola screamed, kicking her feet and pounding her fists against his arm.
“Let me go!  Get off me!”
His grip only tightened, almost like he liked her fighting him.

 
“You want to be a whore. I’ll teach you how to be a whore,” he whispered in her ear.

 
Just like that the fight went out of her and Lola went limp
.
Oh, God. Oh, no.
He didn’t say that. She heard him wrong.
He didn’t say that!

 

Bob
? What’s going on?” her mother asked from the doorway.
She had a grocery bag in her hand
; no expression on her face
.

 
He released her and Lola fell to the floor on her hands and knees.
“Nothing.
Just having a chat.
Lola had detention the other night and skipped out of school today. Trying to shake some sense into her is all.”

 
She stared at the carpet, not seeing it; shaking and sick to her stomach
.
“You want to be a whore. I’ll teach you how to be a whore.”
Lola dry-heaved and ran to the bathroom.

 
What little she’d eaten for lunch came back up. Lola wet a washcloth
with cold water
and held it to her face, sitting with her back against the wall.
She couldn’t stop shaking; her body jerked with the force of it.

 
Never had she been sexually threatened before.
Her mind went back to the other night when he’d paused outside her bedroom door.
Lola was scared, more scared than she’d ever been in the past.
She could deal with the physical and verbal abuse; she would rather die than have him sexually abuse her.

 
The thought of his foul breath and unclean flesh
churned
her stomach and she wretched
once more
.
It was like his stench had seeped into her skin, became a part of her.

 
A knock sounded on the door and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Lola? Are you okay?”

 
Her lip
s
trembled and she began to cry.
No, I’m not okay! I’m never going to be okay while he’s in our life!
Lola put a hand to her mouth to block out the sound of her sobs.

 
“Lola?”

 
She rocked back and forth, tears dampening her
face and dropping to her shirt
. The sobs became louder, more forceful, and Lola buried her face in her lap and put her arms over her head.

 
Oh, God. What a waste. What a waste of an existence. This
wa
s what she was supposed to have for a life?

 
“Please, Lola. Are you okay?” Her mother sounded tired. Not really worried, not really upset; just tired.

 
Help me, Mom. Please. Please, help me.

 
Lola worked to steady her breathing, dashed a hand over her wet eyes, and said, “I’
m..
.
fine.

She couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice, the crack from sounding at the end of her words.

 
I’m not fine. You know I’m not fine.
Show me you care. Show me I still mean something to you. Fight, Mom, fight for us.
Fight for
me
.
I’m your daughter! Why won’t you fight for me?

 
It wasn’t long before her mom said, “Okay,”
and the sound of her light
footsteps
went down the hall.

 
Lola stared at the white wall above the toilet
for a long time
, resolution
finally
straightening her spine.
So that was it then.
Her mother was gone. She wouldn’t help; she
couldn’t
help.
And Lola couldn’
t help her
either, not if she didn’t want help.

 
No one could help
Lola but herself.

  Lola
had to do something.
Lola couldn’t keep living th
is
way.
No more. She wasn’t going to take it anymore.
Her jaw clenched.
Lola wasn’t going to give him the chance to rape her.
Never.

 
She slowly got to her feet and walked to the mirror above the sink. Lola stared at the haunted girl
with fire in her eyes
and told her to be strong, to be brave
,
to
do what she had to do
.

 
Lola took a quick shower, not able to stand the lingering odor of his sweat and body odor on her flesh, scrubbing her skin until it was pink.
She tightly wrapped a towel around her and listened, not hearing any sounds outside the door.

 
She cracked open the bathroom door.
It was quiet in the house. Maybe
Bob
had left. Maybe her mom had gone with him.
She didn’t even care anymore.

 
Cold determination propelled her to her room.
Lola hastily threw on some clothes, not looking at what she grabbed from her dresser.

 
She didn’t think; she just acted.

 
Lola looked around for something to barricade the door with
for her last night in
the
house
.
The only thing feasible was her dresser. It took all her strength and
anger
to get that heavy wood dresser across the room and in front of
the
door, but she did it.

 
She
grabbed a duffel bag from under her bed and shoved clothes into it.
She would go to the bank tomorrow, get her savings, and get out of Morgan Creek.

 
Lola didn’t even know how she would, but Lola was determined to find a way.
There were no cabs, no buses.
Hitchhike then. Walk.
Anything.
She didn’t know where she would go or what she would do; she just knew she had to leave.

 
What about Jack?

 
Lola shoved hi
m from her mind and the pain that cam
e along with the knowledge
she may never see hi
m again. No goodbye to her past, no goodbye to her present; only a clear path to the future.
That’s all she could afford to focus on. Otherwise she would break down and cry, be weak, stay with her mother
because of all she used to be and not what she was now
, and endure.

 
No.
She refused.

 
Lola
packed her writing and a framed photograph of her mother and father holding her when she was one year old.
Lola put a hand to her mouth as she traced their images with her eyes.
That
was her family. And it didn’t exist anymore.

 
I’m leaving. I’m leaving you, Mother, and I’m not coming back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6

 

 
Lola spent the night wide-eyed and jumpy, ears trained to hear every whisper of movement; eyes searching the dark for a predator that wasn’t there.
She periodically dozed off, but
continually
shook herself awake. It was a long night.

 
She got up when she heard them return from work
early in the morning
. Lola quietly dressed
in a pink top and faded jeans. She
looked over her room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything she needed.
She stood there, sorrow her companion.
Was she doing the right thing?
             

 
Part of her wanted to try to talk to her mom, to plead with her
once more
to leave
Bob
. Lola wanted to tell her what he’d said to her, how she feared he meant to sexually harm her.
So many times in the past she’d tried to tell her mother things and she’d brushed them off
.

 
You have to do this. You have no other choice.

 
Lola waited until she heard
the
click of their bedroom door closing down the hall.
Lola would never stand in th
is
room again; she would never lay eyes on
Bob
Holden again either.
Elation and sadness fought inside her.
She was saying goodbye to the abuse, but also to her mother.

 
She grabbed her duffel bag, slowly opened the window, and climbed out.
The brisk air stung her flesh. Lola jumped to the crunchy grass, closed the window, and looked around. The sky was gray
and cloudy
with streaks of pink in it.

 
Lola ducked as she raced past their window and stopped on the sidewalk, her eyes fixed on the dark house.
Her breath left her in short bursts of air. She was doing it; she was really doing it.

 
Her eyes shifted to Sebastian’s house
, blurring with tears
. Her
throat tightened
.
Lola
looked at the window on the second floor, knew he was there, probably still asleep or just getting up.
The longing hit her suddenly and took her breath away.

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