The Legacy of Jane - Part One: If You Are Gone

Chapter Eight

Hey, guys! Can't believe it took this long to update, and I apologize. I got out of school a few weeks ago which was overwhelming in itself; and things have just been crazy. Kids, NEVER take honors chemistry if you want to keep your sanity. Anyway, back to the story...

I stare out the window at the grey sky. It's a miserable morning, and the sky seems to reflect how my day has been. I'm so tired and so hungry. Even though I always feel that way now, today it's worse than usual. I wish that I could sleep, and not wake up for days. I think about what had happened just a couple of hours before, and it all feels like a blur. Is this all just a dream? I must be dreaming. It all happened so fast, and yet I ran away. My stomach drops as I realise that my friends might still be there. I left all of the other girls; I'm a coward. Why did I run? Why didn't I at least take Maria and Maeve with me?

"How is it feeling?" Dinah asks across from me. She has bags under her eyes, and you can hear the exhaustion in her voice, just as always.

I squirm uncomfortably on the bed, sitting on the side with my feet flat on the floor. Around me, nurses in the hospital care for other patients; the sterile smell stings my nose. I lift the damp cloth off and look at the tight stitches on my bruised arm that was covered in blood and glass not long ago. I get tempted to roll down my sleeve momentarily, not wanting to look at them before saying, "It's sore."

"Well leave it alone," she says, "it'll make it worse."

"Oh of course," I say sarcastically, "because they'll chop off my arm if I roll down my sleeve."

There is a moment of awkward silence.

"I still don't think we should have come here," I remark, "it was just a cut. The last thing we need is any medical fees to pay."

"Jane, you were hysterical. There were pieces of glass still in your arm, and you were getting blood everywhere. I don't see any reason we shouldn't go to a hospital."

"Maybe because we don't have the money," I mutter.

There's another moment of silence.

"But on the contrary," I ask, "how do I look?"

"Well... the bruises are starting to show," Dinah says gently, "your face looks like it's seen better days."

"That's because it has."

Dinah pauses, and I already know what she wants to ask. She asks the dreaded question, as if she read my mind, "Why didn't you tell me about the abuse? Or the beatings?"

I sigh and think for a moment. "There wasn't a reason to talk about them," I explain, "beatings were rare, and they never happened to me until now. Besides, I thought that having a sadistic supervisor with a pipe was normal."

"It is a bit," she answers, "my supervisors are no picnic. But I never want you working in a place like that."

"It's the least of my concerns," I say, "all I've been worried about is bringing money home to pay the rent."

Dinah is quiet for a moment, "what exactly... happened?"

"I told you that I was beaten, Dinah. I cut my arm when I fell on glass."

"Yes, but," she trails off, "you know what I mean."

I recounted to Dinah as much as I could about the incident and the way Saunders has always acted.

"I was scared, and I was in pain," I continue, "but the worst part was how helpless I felt. I was at the mercy of him. He looked at me strangely, you know. He had a greedy look in his eye as if he enjoyed watching me like that. If it hadn't been for Maria and Maeve, I don't know what would have happened," I hesitate, "and I left them."