Little Lady
Capítulo nueve
—Mike's POV—
I jumped in the car, cursing myself for forgetting about Vic—what kind of a brother was I? I shoved the key in the ignition and backed out of the driveway.
The hospital wasn't that far from my home—ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops. But in that ten to fifteen minutes my mind went through a lot of torture: over-analyzing, hating, hurting, everything. I wanted out, I wanted fucking out. I'm twenty one years old—why can't I be like most twenty-one year old guys and live in some dingy apartment and go drinking every night. I just wanted a normal life.
Normal—hm, the word seemed foreign in my head. Normal. My life has never been normal, ever, it hasn't affected me too badly, it just makes me angry. How my 'dad' treats females, how he thinks he can get away with anything, even rape.
"No, no! Please...I just..you don't even have to pay, I'll just-" she stuttered. This girl was different from the girl last week—her name was Marie and now she was dead.
"Be fucking quiet, whore" my dad commanded, he's always been a control freak, he lives to dominate people, treat them like he's the lion and they're the lamb. It made me sick, it always made me fucking sick.
I hated him.
I crept closer to the door, not wanting to hear it but wanting to stay there in case I had to step in—not when it's too late this time.
"Please..." she pleaded. Skin contacted skin in the most vicious way and she groaned at the contact, I looked through the gap in the door that he'd carelessly left open and she held her cheek with her hand, nursing the sting of the slap. Anger filled me. She was beautiful, bright red hair, terrified blue eyes, small lips, beautiful complexion. She didn't deserve this.
No one ever deserved this.
Vic tapped my shoulder and I jumped at his unexpected appearance—last time I saw him he was upstairs—I put my hand over my racing heart and frowned.
"Jesus, you scared me. Not now Vic, go upstairs" I hissed quietly—knowing I'd be in the deepest of shit if dad figured out we were just outside the door—I swear sometimes it was like I was the older brother. He never spoke, he just stood around looking frightened or troubled and I spent my time telling him what to do and trying to keep him out of harms way.
Role reversal or what.
I heard the sound of a zipper, Vic turned slowly and headed back upstairs—I felt bad for being so mean to him, he didn't deserve that. I was just on edge. I headed back to the crack in the door, peaking in and saw him take down his pants, I gulped and turned around, I couldn't look.
"No..." her whisper was broken and almost indecipherable by the human ear. He didn't listen though, of course he didn't. I heard him groan and my stomach twisted, how could he do that? How could he even enjoy it?
I swear I could hear her crying softly in the undercurrent of his groans and pants. My heart broke for her, poor girl.
I shuddered at the memory of Leda.
My dads actions affected Vic more so than me. He barely communicated with anybody, he had no friends, he never went out anywhere. All he did was sit in his room and listen to the same dumb music on repeat.
I reached the hospital and hopped out of the car, running towards the dismal, depressing building without even locking my car.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot, I..." I trailed off, panting, catching my breath. Vic just shook his head and smiled, like it mattered to him that I'd forgotten but like he couldn't possibly hold it against me—even if he wanted to. And I know he probably did want to.
"Are you here to pick Victor up?" a nurse with huge glasses and a short, choppy haircut asked me, tapping my shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm his brother" I replied with a tight smile.
"It took us longer than it should have to give him stitches and what have you because we couldn't get him to communicate with any member of our staff" she shook her head, folding the clipboard in her hands under her armpit.
"Yeah, he doesn't talk..." I said, not really wanting her to ask the why and when questions.
"Oh...well..." before she could say anything I grabbed Vic's arm and led him out of the room.
"Time to go" I said quickly as we made our way down the corridor towards the exit. He looked at me perplexed as if he thought I was going crazy. Hell, maybe I was. Would anybody blame me for going crazy—with a psychotic dad, a brother who doesn't talk and an attractive girl chained up in a room in my house, who I'm not allowed to have any positive communication with.
Sounds enough to make a person crazy, doesn't it?
—Leda's POV—
He came further into the room and frowned a little at my limitations (the chains). "Vic! You're okay" I couldn't keep the relief out of my voice.
"How are you?" I asked, wanting to know everything. But of course, no reply. I decided I should probably just ask questions that require a yes or no answer.
"Are you okay?" I corrected my previous question and he nodded solemnly. "C'mere" I touched the floor where Mike was sat previously, with my foot and he came over and sat down, wrapping his arms round his legs and resting his chin on top of his knees.
"Did you need stitches?" His eyebrows drew together, as if he was recalling the whole scene at the hospital and then he nodded.
"Did they hurt?" He shook his head.
"Mike left you there alone?" He nodded.
"Were you scared?" He shook his head.
I was getting rather fed up of the silence, I felt like I would get a better conversation out of the four walls surrounding me. I shuddered at the thought of talking to them, knowing if I stayed in here alone long enough they probably would talk back.
"Vic, why don't you talk?" He raised his eyes to look at me, they looked sad, beautifully sad, as if he was constantly mourning something or someone, like grief had wormed its way into them and he had no way of getting it out, ever.
I felt choked up, his eyes held so much intensity, like he had a million years worth of words locked away in them, like soon they would overflow with unspoken syllables. He didn't reply but in a way he didn't have to, I felt the pain in his eyes, the sheer sorrow and depression his soul held and I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine what he'd been through.
"Y-you've been through a lot, huh?" I choked out, it sounded uneven and strange and I didn't know why he was affecting me so much. He shrugged as if it was no big deal—but I felt the complete opposite.
"I want to do something fun" we laid on the grass, watching the clouds make their slow journey across the sky. It always amazed me how I could watch the earth spin but never feel it.
"You don't find this fun?" Sam asked turning his head to the left to look at me, I kept my head straight still looking at the sky and answered.
"I like clouds, they're pretty" I giggled. "But I want to do something really fun" I continued
"Like what?" Sam asked "You run too much" I just giggled in response, he was right, I loved to run and laugh and play.
"Let's go on an adventure, like Scooby Doo!" I exclaimed excitedly, turning my head to the right to look at him.
"I'm not the dog, you can be the dog!" Sam protested
"You're Shaggy, I'm Scooby! Now let's split up and look for clues" I tried to imitate Fred's voice and we both busted into a fit of giggles.
"Have you ever really had any friends?" I asked, it sounded like a mean question but I meant it harmlessly, I was just curious. Hoping he'd had at least one person to look after him and make his life feel worth everything.
But he shook his head sadly and my heart broke further.
"I'm sorry to hear that" and I meant it, nobody should go through life without any friends. He shrugged.
Ugh this was exhausting. Shrugging, nodding, shaking his head. I needed words, coherent sentences.
"Vic, er, dad wants to apologize" a rather confused Mike popped his head around the door frowning slightly as if he didn't really understand the situation. Vic rose his eyebrow in surprise.
I really didn't want to be left alone with the memories of everything and everyone who had tainted my life, good or badly.
"What do you mean you're moving out?" My mothers shrill voice squeaked from behind me as she followed me down the stairs. I got to the bottom step and dropped my suitcase on the floor, pulling the handle up and wheeling it to the door.
"What else could that possibly mean? I'm moving out, that's it." I snapped, really uninterested in having this conversation.
"Where are you moving to?" She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped to catch her breath.
"New York, Japan, London, anywhere. I just have to get out of this dead end town." The desperation in my voice was audible and I hated that.
"So you're just going to drop out of high school and join the circus?" Her tone was sardonic and I was losing my patience.
"Mom, I have so many goals and ambitions, nothing will be achieved if I stay here, I need to get out of here okay, please be reasonable. At least try to understand" I pleaded, not wanting any hassle. Her features twisted, as if she desperately wanted to listen to me and agree but some part of her was telling her she shouldn't.
"It's so reckless and stupid" she looked defeated and I felt extremely guilty. She was right, who drops out of high school, moves to another city and doesn't enrol in another high school? — Only me I guess.
"I'll be fine, I want to have my own clothing line, this town is too damn small for that, I just want something good to happen to me for once" I expressed
"Your life is perfect, Leda." My mothers hands went onto her hips and I knew it was time to leave. If the hands go on the hips, she either starts yelling, cursing or crying. In worst cases, she does a mixture of all three—very unpleasant.
"I'll call you" I whispered and opened the door and dragged my suitcase closely behind me. The air was cold, winter warnings in the air, I didn't have a jacket on and my skin had goosebumps running along it from the chill. I didn't care though, excitement coursed through me and that warmed me up enough to get to my car.
It hurt that she didn't run after me and beg me to stay, she'd always cared up to this point, why not now? I got into my car with a heavy heart and watched her figure stand there in the doorway, as I pulled away.
Bye Mom.
Ugh the memories never stopped.
"Please...don't go" it sounded clingy and desperate and I wasn't aiming it specifically at one of them, I just really hated being alone. Vic studied me for a few seconds, frowning, concentrating.
And then he simply got up and left anyway. Ouch, that stung a little. Mike looked just as surprised as I did.
"What did you do to him?" He smirked.
"Obviously something terrible" I frowned, tracking back through our conversation, thinking of what I could possibly have said to insult or offend him. Nothing that I could recall.
"He's probably just feeling sensitive, it's fine" Mike shrugged, still only halfway in the room.
Something weird was going on.
"So, he wants to apologize..." I stated, hoping to strike a conversation that didn't die out.
"Yeah, I don't know why, it's kind of strange" he replied
"Do you think he's up to something?" I asked and he looked surprised like I'd read his mind or something
"Yes exactly that...I think he wants Vi-" he was interrupted
"Mike! What are you doing?" Mike flinched at his growl.
"Uh...just telling her not to try any funny business while we're not in the room." he tried to sound masculine and truthful but he failed, his voice shaking a little as the lie fell from his lips.
"Show don't tell!" He yelled back from wherever in the house he was.
He meant hit me.
I looked at Mike, sizing him up, trying to read him to see if he'd actually do it or not. He looked surprised as if he wasn't a big fan of the idea. That made me relax a little.
"I don't hear much showing in there!" The ogre yelled and I imagined Mike grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall—I winced.
Mike cleared his throat and walked over to me and whispered "Scream" I only got a few seconds to be confused before he said "Scream!" In a more fierce whisper and slapped his right hand against the back of his left hand. I instantly understood what he was doing and I screamed as if he'd slapped me.
"Don't you fucking dare do that again!" He yelled and then he bent down and gave me a hug, kissing my cheek. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine" I replied with a weak smile and he nodded before leaving.
"That boy came here yesterday" Sam said warily, gauging my mood.
"Who?"
"The guy you were really mean to" he threw a stone and it plopped pathetically into the water.
"This is our place" I stomped my foot.
"I know but he has no friends" Sam was always kind like that, unlike me, he'd always befriend anybody, I hated change and new people and I couldn't stand it when someone disturbed my plans.
"So? He shouldn't barge into people's friend places without permission" I snapped.
New word of the day: permission. My Mom made it a priority to teach me a new word and its meaning, everyday. And today the word was permission.
"Well I think he's nice so" Sam shrugged
"Are you gay, Sam?" Eleven year old me laughed
"What? No!" Sam retorted "This is why I'm your only friend because you're a horrible person and no one else would put up with you" he yelled, stomping off to god only knows where. "I hate you" he screamed from afar. His words stung me, leaving a bitter feeling inside my chest, even after he was long gone.
I hated myself too.
I jumped in the car, cursing myself for forgetting about Vic—what kind of a brother was I? I shoved the key in the ignition and backed out of the driveway.
The hospital wasn't that far from my home—ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops. But in that ten to fifteen minutes my mind went through a lot of torture: over-analyzing, hating, hurting, everything. I wanted out, I wanted fucking out. I'm twenty one years old—why can't I be like most twenty-one year old guys and live in some dingy apartment and go drinking every night. I just wanted a normal life.
Normal—hm, the word seemed foreign in my head. Normal. My life has never been normal, ever, it hasn't affected me too badly, it just makes me angry. How my 'dad' treats females, how he thinks he can get away with anything, even rape.
"No, no! Please...I just..you don't even have to pay, I'll just-" she stuttered. This girl was different from the girl last week—her name was Marie and now she was dead.
"Be fucking quiet, whore" my dad commanded, he's always been a control freak, he lives to dominate people, treat them like he's the lion and they're the lamb. It made me sick, it always made me fucking sick.
I hated him.
I crept closer to the door, not wanting to hear it but wanting to stay there in case I had to step in—not when it's too late this time.
"Please..." she pleaded. Skin contacted skin in the most vicious way and she groaned at the contact, I looked through the gap in the door that he'd carelessly left open and she held her cheek with her hand, nursing the sting of the slap. Anger filled me. She was beautiful, bright red hair, terrified blue eyes, small lips, beautiful complexion. She didn't deserve this.
No one ever deserved this.
Vic tapped my shoulder and I jumped at his unexpected appearance—last time I saw him he was upstairs—I put my hand over my racing heart and frowned.
"Jesus, you scared me. Not now Vic, go upstairs" I hissed quietly—knowing I'd be in the deepest of shit if dad figured out we were just outside the door—I swear sometimes it was like I was the older brother. He never spoke, he just stood around looking frightened or troubled and I spent my time telling him what to do and trying to keep him out of harms way.
Role reversal or what.
I heard the sound of a zipper, Vic turned slowly and headed back upstairs—I felt bad for being so mean to him, he didn't deserve that. I was just on edge. I headed back to the crack in the door, peaking in and saw him take down his pants, I gulped and turned around, I couldn't look.
"No..." her whisper was broken and almost indecipherable by the human ear. He didn't listen though, of course he didn't. I heard him groan and my stomach twisted, how could he do that? How could he even enjoy it?
I swear I could hear her crying softly in the undercurrent of his groans and pants. My heart broke for her, poor girl.
I shuddered at the memory of Leda.
My dads actions affected Vic more so than me. He barely communicated with anybody, he had no friends, he never went out anywhere. All he did was sit in his room and listen to the same dumb music on repeat.
I reached the hospital and hopped out of the car, running towards the dismal, depressing building without even locking my car.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot, I..." I trailed off, panting, catching my breath. Vic just shook his head and smiled, like it mattered to him that I'd forgotten but like he couldn't possibly hold it against me—even if he wanted to. And I know he probably did want to.
"Are you here to pick Victor up?" a nurse with huge glasses and a short, choppy haircut asked me, tapping my shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm his brother" I replied with a tight smile.
"It took us longer than it should have to give him stitches and what have you because we couldn't get him to communicate with any member of our staff" she shook her head, folding the clipboard in her hands under her armpit.
"Yeah, he doesn't talk..." I said, not really wanting her to ask the why and when questions.
"Oh...well..." before she could say anything I grabbed Vic's arm and led him out of the room.
"Time to go" I said quickly as we made our way down the corridor towards the exit. He looked at me perplexed as if he thought I was going crazy. Hell, maybe I was. Would anybody blame me for going crazy—with a psychotic dad, a brother who doesn't talk and an attractive girl chained up in a room in my house, who I'm not allowed to have any positive communication with.
Sounds enough to make a person crazy, doesn't it?
—Leda's POV—
He came further into the room and frowned a little at my limitations (the chains). "Vic! You're okay" I couldn't keep the relief out of my voice.
"How are you?" I asked, wanting to know everything. But of course, no reply. I decided I should probably just ask questions that require a yes or no answer.
"Are you okay?" I corrected my previous question and he nodded solemnly. "C'mere" I touched the floor where Mike was sat previously, with my foot and he came over and sat down, wrapping his arms round his legs and resting his chin on top of his knees.
"Did you need stitches?" His eyebrows drew together, as if he was recalling the whole scene at the hospital and then he nodded.
"Did they hurt?" He shook his head.
"Mike left you there alone?" He nodded.
"Were you scared?" He shook his head.
I was getting rather fed up of the silence, I felt like I would get a better conversation out of the four walls surrounding me. I shuddered at the thought of talking to them, knowing if I stayed in here alone long enough they probably would talk back.
"Vic, why don't you talk?" He raised his eyes to look at me, they looked sad, beautifully sad, as if he was constantly mourning something or someone, like grief had wormed its way into them and he had no way of getting it out, ever.
I felt choked up, his eyes held so much intensity, like he had a million years worth of words locked away in them, like soon they would overflow with unspoken syllables. He didn't reply but in a way he didn't have to, I felt the pain in his eyes, the sheer sorrow and depression his soul held and I swallowed hard, trying not to imagine what he'd been through.
"Y-you've been through a lot, huh?" I choked out, it sounded uneven and strange and I didn't know why he was affecting me so much. He shrugged as if it was no big deal—but I felt the complete opposite.
"I want to do something fun" we laid on the grass, watching the clouds make their slow journey across the sky. It always amazed me how I could watch the earth spin but never feel it.
"You don't find this fun?" Sam asked turning his head to the left to look at me, I kept my head straight still looking at the sky and answered.
"I like clouds, they're pretty" I giggled. "But I want to do something really fun" I continued
"Like what?" Sam asked "You run too much" I just giggled in response, he was right, I loved to run and laugh and play.
"Let's go on an adventure, like Scooby Doo!" I exclaimed excitedly, turning my head to the right to look at him.
"I'm not the dog, you can be the dog!" Sam protested
"You're Shaggy, I'm Scooby! Now let's split up and look for clues" I tried to imitate Fred's voice and we both busted into a fit of giggles.
"Have you ever really had any friends?" I asked, it sounded like a mean question but I meant it harmlessly, I was just curious. Hoping he'd had at least one person to look after him and make his life feel worth everything.
But he shook his head sadly and my heart broke further.
"I'm sorry to hear that" and I meant it, nobody should go through life without any friends. He shrugged.
Ugh this was exhausting. Shrugging, nodding, shaking his head. I needed words, coherent sentences.
"Vic, er, dad wants to apologize" a rather confused Mike popped his head around the door frowning slightly as if he didn't really understand the situation. Vic rose his eyebrow in surprise.
I really didn't want to be left alone with the memories of everything and everyone who had tainted my life, good or badly.
"What do you mean you're moving out?" My mothers shrill voice squeaked from behind me as she followed me down the stairs. I got to the bottom step and dropped my suitcase on the floor, pulling the handle up and wheeling it to the door.
"What else could that possibly mean? I'm moving out, that's it." I snapped, really uninterested in having this conversation.
"Where are you moving to?" She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped to catch her breath.
"New York, Japan, London, anywhere. I just have to get out of this dead end town." The desperation in my voice was audible and I hated that.
"So you're just going to drop out of high school and join the circus?" Her tone was sardonic and I was losing my patience.
"Mom, I have so many goals and ambitions, nothing will be achieved if I stay here, I need to get out of here okay, please be reasonable. At least try to understand" I pleaded, not wanting any hassle. Her features twisted, as if she desperately wanted to listen to me and agree but some part of her was telling her she shouldn't.
"It's so reckless and stupid" she looked defeated and I felt extremely guilty. She was right, who drops out of high school, moves to another city and doesn't enrol in another high school? — Only me I guess.
"I'll be fine, I want to have my own clothing line, this town is too damn small for that, I just want something good to happen to me for once" I expressed
"Your life is perfect, Leda." My mothers hands went onto her hips and I knew it was time to leave. If the hands go on the hips, she either starts yelling, cursing or crying. In worst cases, she does a mixture of all three—very unpleasant.
"I'll call you" I whispered and opened the door and dragged my suitcase closely behind me. The air was cold, winter warnings in the air, I didn't have a jacket on and my skin had goosebumps running along it from the chill. I didn't care though, excitement coursed through me and that warmed me up enough to get to my car.
It hurt that she didn't run after me and beg me to stay, she'd always cared up to this point, why not now? I got into my car with a heavy heart and watched her figure stand there in the doorway, as I pulled away.
Bye Mom.
Ugh the memories never stopped.
"Please...don't go" it sounded clingy and desperate and I wasn't aiming it specifically at one of them, I just really hated being alone. Vic studied me for a few seconds, frowning, concentrating.
And then he simply got up and left anyway. Ouch, that stung a little. Mike looked just as surprised as I did.
"What did you do to him?" He smirked.
"Obviously something terrible" I frowned, tracking back through our conversation, thinking of what I could possibly have said to insult or offend him. Nothing that I could recall.
"He's probably just feeling sensitive, it's fine" Mike shrugged, still only halfway in the room.
Something weird was going on.
"So, he wants to apologize..." I stated, hoping to strike a conversation that didn't die out.
"Yeah, I don't know why, it's kind of strange" he replied
"Do you think he's up to something?" I asked and he looked surprised like I'd read his mind or something
"Yes exactly that...I think he wants Vi-" he was interrupted
"Mike! What are you doing?" Mike flinched at his growl.
"Uh...just telling her not to try any funny business while we're not in the room." he tried to sound masculine and truthful but he failed, his voice shaking a little as the lie fell from his lips.
"Show don't tell!" He yelled back from wherever in the house he was.
He meant hit me.
I looked at Mike, sizing him up, trying to read him to see if he'd actually do it or not. He looked surprised as if he wasn't a big fan of the idea. That made me relax a little.
"I don't hear much showing in there!" The ogre yelled and I imagined Mike grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall—I winced.
Mike cleared his throat and walked over to me and whispered "Scream" I only got a few seconds to be confused before he said "Scream!" In a more fierce whisper and slapped his right hand against the back of his left hand. I instantly understood what he was doing and I screamed as if he'd slapped me.
"Don't you fucking dare do that again!" He yelled and then he bent down and gave me a hug, kissing my cheek. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine" I replied with a weak smile and he nodded before leaving.
"That boy came here yesterday" Sam said warily, gauging my mood.
"Who?"
"The guy you were really mean to" he threw a stone and it plopped pathetically into the water.
"This is our place" I stomped my foot.
"I know but he has no friends" Sam was always kind like that, unlike me, he'd always befriend anybody, I hated change and new people and I couldn't stand it when someone disturbed my plans.
"So? He shouldn't barge into people's friend places without permission" I snapped.
New word of the day: permission. My Mom made it a priority to teach me a new word and its meaning, everyday. And today the word was permission.
"Well I think he's nice so" Sam shrugged
"Are you gay, Sam?" Eleven year old me laughed
"What? No!" Sam retorted "This is why I'm your only friend because you're a horrible person and no one else would put up with you" he yelled, stomping off to god only knows where. "I hate you" he screamed from afar. His words stung me, leaving a bitter feeling inside my chest, even after he was long gone.
I hated myself too.
Notes
I wrote this on a six hour train journey home, so it's not exactly perfect. Apologies.Thanks for reading! <3
SEQUEL !
1/17/14