Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
There was something very…potent? About him. An energy that comes off of him in waves that no one else seems to have picked up on. No wonder everyone is attracted to him, with looks, money, and an air of superiority that’s years ahead of his peers. I stopped on a blank page in the sketchbook I held in my hands and brought his face back to mind.
My fingers moved over the page swiftly as I got lost in the thing I love to do most. He’s the first person other than mom that I’d drawn there, but I didn’t stop to think why that is. Drawing has been my escape since I found my love for it at around age ten. According to grandma, who I still call from the phone, she’d sneakily sent me for my last birthday; it was one of mom’s passions as well.
I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I didn’t hear the door open. I didn’t realize she was there until the book was ripped out of my hands and thrown across the room. It hit the wall hard and slid down to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
I didn't dare show my distress at what she had done. She knows what those drawings meant to me; she'd seen me hyperventilate and almost have a full-blown panic attack the first time she'd touched it. If she knows how upset I am now, it would only feed whatever sick need she has to torment me.
“What do you want, Victoria?”
“What did you say to him about me, you lying bitch?”
“Who are you talking about? I didn’t tell anyone anything about you.”
“You’re lying. Why else would he…?” Her eyes landed on the book that had opened on the floor, and the rage that came into them was a new level of hate I’d not seen before, and I’ve seen plenty in the years I’ve been forced to live with her.
She walked over and picked it up, and I felt sick to my stomach. Of course, it had fallen open on his face. My heart lurched in my chest when she tore the whole thing in half before shredding it to pieces. I felt my heart break as years of my work was destroyed in seconds. All the drawings of my mom were gone.
Tears and anger blinded me, and I did something I hadn’t done in a long time; I screamed at her. “Get out of my room, get out.” I stood to my feet, ready to push her; I was so mad, but just then, the door was pushed open, and her reinforcement was her. “What’s going on in here? What’s all the screaming about?” Becky stood in the doorway with a scowl.
“Mom, she’s been spreading rumors about us at school.” That was enough to have the other woman stepping into the room to confront me. By then, I was back to sitting on the bed, my knees too weak to hold me up any longer. Becky still has that effect on me all these years later. Years of being told that I was less than. Years of being made to take a backseat in my own home so that her daughter could shine.
At that moment, I felt the heavy weight of despair I try so hard to keep at bay. One more year, I keep telling myself, and then I can escape this. I thought my breaking point was when she’d convinced my dad that I was too careless to drive, that my clumsiness, which was brought on by years of torment at her hands and her daughter’s, by the way, was a danger.
You can already guess what happened there. Victoria was allowed to get her license, while dad refused to sign the slip that would allow me to take driving classes the year before. That was a low blow in a long line of many, but I’d told myself that that would be the last time I let them hurt me. Even when Victoria and her friends kept up their bullying, I didn’t let it get under my skin.
A hand across my face brought my mind back to the here and now. I clutched my cheek where Becky had smacked me, and though it wasn’t the first time, it still sent a pang of disbelief rushing through me. Dad came into the doorway to see what all the noise was about and just like I always do, I held out the hope that this time he’d see my side. This time, he’d stand up for me.
“What happened?”
“She’s been lying again. Telling people that she hates us. I don’t know what I did wrong. I just fell in love with the man of my dreams…” Becky turned on the waterworks as my own tears dried up. It never ceases to amaze me how adept she was at doing this, turning the tables to suit her favor. When dad gave me a disappointed look and walked away without asking for my side, the final betrayal was worst than anything I’d ever expected. It always is.