Thousands (Dollar 4)

I glanced behind her at Miranda and Harold who stood snickering, watching this show as a pre-dinner snack before the main course of my pain.

I wanted to speak to Simone for as long as I was able. I would tell her anything. I would fib and lie and spin about a happier life if it meant I could avoid the impending fists and kicks.

I would even go as far as telling her the truth and accepting any charity she gave me so I could return home and never have to steal again. I would somehow get a job and repay her magnanimity then start working on stitching up the holes in my soul from leaving Elder.

“You can speak to me…” Simone coaxed. “I won’t bite. I meant what I said. If you need money or help, I’ll gladly give it to you.”

My shoulders rolled as a flush of thankfulness filled me. Even if I suffered a beating today, I had another guardian angel willing to help me. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it, but if all it cost were a few bruises, then I would pay it proudly.

Sitting taller, I clasped my hands in my lap and looked over her head at Miranda. If she was half as kind as Simone, I would do as she asked and apologise—for the second time.

But she wasn’t.

And nothing I said would help me.

“I’m truly sorry.” I forced my voice to be calm and collected. “And I want to make this right. But I could stand in front of you. I could bow before you. I could kiss your hands and apologise for days, but it wouldn’t make a shred of difference.”

Simone stiffened, a small gasp falling from her lips. “What are you doing?”

Something I should’ve done years ago.

Standing up for myself.

I was done being taunted with. There was nothing I could do to avoid what would happen, but I could say something that would hopefully haunt them when they were older and wiser and less cocky and cruel. “Want to know why it won’t make a difference?” I bared my teeth. “It’s because I’ve known people like you. I’ve lived with people like you. I was sold to people like you. Every day, I was played with, and every day, I learned to fall less and less for his tricks. Unlike you, I never hurt another person until yesterday when I walked away from the one man I’ve ever loved. So perhaps this is punishment for hurting him, and I’ll accept it because what I did was wrong. I take full responsibility for that and for stealing. But I also know that even if I could somehow convince you of how sincere I am…I’m still going to end up bleeding.”

I tensed and glowered at Miranda. “So tell your little lap dog there to do his worst. He won’t break me. No one can break me even though plenty have tried.”

Silence fell in the alley.

Tears filled Simone’s eyes. “Oh, wow. You were sold?” She reached for my hands, but I flinched backward out of habit. She stilled, dropping her head. “I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t stomach her understanding even after I’d wronged her. I opened my mouth to assure her I wasn’t after her sympathy. I just had to stand up for myself for the first time in my life, but the cackle of disbelief from Miranda and Harold rang in my ears so familiar.

I was used to such a response.

I was used to being ridiculed and abused.

“Seriously, Simone!” Miranda giggled. “You believe that shit? What a little liar.”

Simone lashed out and grabbed my hand. With a burst of surprising strength, she pulled me unwillingly to my aching feet. My ankles screamed from being sat on for so long, my knees indented and red from dirty gravel.

Tugging me toward her evil friend, she clutched my fingers tight. “I do believe her, and I’m going to help her. I’m taking her to see my daddy right now. He’ll know what to do.”

I stumbled from shock at how such a wondrous creature could be friends with such a monster as Miranda. Was she just naïve to the wily ways of maliciousness, or did she think she could change Miranda by drowning her in goodness?

Either way, I was at both their mercies as Simone brought me to stand in front of her friend. “I’m leaving with her.” Looking at me, Simone ordered, “Say you’re sorry, and then we can be done with this.”

I lowered my eyes to the baby blue loafers of Harold and the sparkly silver sandals of Miranda. It physically pained me to talk to such beasts, but I did it for Simone, not them.

If she believed they’d stop, then perhaps I would trust her judgement over mine. I might be clouded from past experiences. I would take that first step into normalcy and treat each occurrence as separate not joined.