Deuces Wild

I don’t bother to read them. I shut the phone back off, tossing it into my bag. I hate the sadness I feel that I haven’t received one text or call from my mom. I’ve been gone three days now. Sure, I am eighteen and could leave if I wanted to, but she isn’t even looking for me. For all she knows I could be dead or missing. This is some heavy crap to think about before bedtime but it haunts my mind every night. I close my eyes and know the real reason she doesn’t care that I left. She didn’t want me there to begin with.

As soon as I hit my teenage years and started developing, she started treating me differently. She would make sure she put me down or called me names. She mainly focused on my body. It started after the first time that I told her that one of her boyfriends said something inappropriate to me. Instead of getting rid of the pervert, she began telling me to cover up and saying I looked like a whore. Asking me if I was trying to make her boyfriends look at me.

At first I thought the things she said were true so I tried to cover up as much as possible. After a while, I realized it was her own insecurities that made her lash out. I got used to her insults and let them roll off me. That’s what I told myself, anyway. I’m sure the scars are there even though they’re not visible. They cut deep on the inside and I have no idea how one can even begin trying to heal something like that.

Ricky was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m not thirteen anymore and I don’t need a roof over my head bad enough to deal with that creep. He was starting to get bolder and bolder with his advances. I started shoving a chair against my door at night after I’d awoken in the dark with him standing over my bed.

He cornered me three days ago, making it clear the word no wouldn’t be acceptable this time. I did what I had to. I told him to wait for me in the bedroom. My mom was off at work for the night. My heart starts hammering in my chest thinking about the risk I took. Ricky thought I was going to finally give in to him but I stole his wallet instead. I grabbed my duffle bag that I kept packed in case of an emergency and got the hell out of Dodge. When he heard the front door slam, I was already running down the street.

That’s when I heard him screaming about the cops. I kept running as fast as I could. I know I act tough on the outside but I was actually getting scared that he would do something to me when my mom wasn’t home. I knew she would never believe me so leaving had been my best option.

I tuck the wallet back into my bag and head over to my makeshift bed on the couch. I lie down and try to sleep. Even though I’m exhausted my mind keeps racing. I suddenly feel overwhelmed by all of it. I begin to softly cry into the pillow that Deuce was kind enough to give me. I can’t make the tears stop no matter how hard I try.

Chapter 7

Carter

I wake up feeling like shit. It’s probably because I spent most of the night arguing with myself about the girl. I was coming out of the bathroom when I heard her sniffling. I thought about going to her although to do what, I don’t know. I’m not good with the whole comforting thing. That’s not my bag. On top of that, she’s scared of being touched and thinks I’m going to make her pay for her bed and food with sex so I opted to keep my ass planted in my room. It wasn’t easy.

It’s not as if I don’t have experience with tears. Mom’s a crier but she uses her tears like a weapon. They hurt you more than they hurt her.

I don’t think the waif is like that. She was belligerent face to face but cried when alone. Those aren’t the actions of a manipulator. I scrub my face, feeling more tired this morning than I did crawling into my king-size bed last night. I grab a pair of shorts and throw on a loose tank. I need to burn off these weird emotions. Once I’ve put myself through a workout, I’ll be able to think more clearly. The waif and I can sit down and talk about her situation. She’s obviously hiding from someone. Whoever it is can’t be more powerful or richer than me so as soon as she gives me the name, I can take care of the problem and she can go home.