HAVING 13

13. Human being

MISSY
January 29th 2005

Three days ago, Shannon was heaving over a toilet in the girls' bathroom.

I went and got a cup of water for her, but had a run-in with my nosey barrister's son and Gibsie. I decided I'd never go into that common room again.

Johnny was looking at me like he cared. That meant he was a threat. What was strange to me was that Gibsie wasn't a danger to me, even though he obviously cared as well.

Was it because I saw myself loving Johnny?

Holy. Shit. Not the L-bomb, Missy. You don't love!

It was Saturday now and I had worked a shift at the diner in the day, and was heading to do one at Biddies in the evening. I took a bus to get to the other side of town.

I always plugged earphones into my second-hand iPod when I was alone on a bus. The familiar sound of Today by the Smashing Pumpkins blasted through the minuscule speakers, right into my ears.

I got off at my stop, and took a minute standing outside the entrance so I could collect myself before putting on an act at work. I still had my earphones in, selecting another song.

I leaned my back against the wall, resting my head against it too.

Deep breaths, Melissa. Only a few more hours.

Truth was, I had been holding on by a thread since Christmas break ended. Since I decided to transfer to Tommen. Since I cried last. Since I was born.

Working two jobs, dividing chores and kids with Shan and Joe, keeping up with schoolwork, Dad's fists, Mam's blatant ignorance, and also my own mind fighting me; it had all morphed into one big pile of voices screaming 'you'll never get out'.

I was about to become like Joe; I was about to call Shane Holland up to see if it lived up to what my brother made it look like. Usually, I thought before I did something. Lately, I was more impulsive.

"Hey." I heard along with footsteps. "Melissa."

I knew exactly who it was.

My head dropped forward, opening my eyes reluctantly.

No one in sight, except for Taggart Brady.

"Not cool, yo," His gruff voice sounded. "Leavin' me like that."

I drowned out the rest of his complaints, pure panic overwhelming me, but when he walked over to me, I had nowhere to go. A high-pitched ring sounded through my ears.

He was there. Right in front of me. The man who took my girlhood from me. The grown adult who manipulated me and abused me.

Who made me believe that I had no way out and I had to stay with him; that I was safe with him.

I was stuck between the trash container and a wall, a final surface closing up on me in the form of Tag.

"Back off," I demanded with a weak voice.

That's just sad, Missy.

"Or what? Gonna call your brother to jump me again?" He challenged. "Typical you; always acting like the fucking victim."

"Stop," I begged.

"Heard you kissed Johnny fucking Kavanagh at that party, left with some other prick, Gibsie, huh? You go to school with them now?" He kept intimidating me. "I was planning to finally fuck you that night, you know?"

"Leave me alone." I shielded myself with my forearms as he finally closed in, nearly pressing against my body with his own.

My body told me to hit him. To kick. Punch. Scream.