Gold Rush

clouded judgement

:* ୨୧ Gracelyn ୨୧ :*

"Oh no, I'm falling in love"

April 17, 2005

I was sat on the floor of my bedroom with an ice pack to my face, trying to stop the swelling on my cheekbone from growing.

My dad had never hit me.
Sure, he threw things and tossed me around but he'd never actually hit me—until today.

I'd made the fatal mistake of letting a boy cloud my judgement. That had never happened, not in my sixteen years of life, but Johnny Kavanagh was my weakness.

I couldn't think when he was around. It was like he turned off every logical sense in my body and replaced it with love—or lust. It all felt like a blur when he was around.

My dad was furious. The second the door closed on Johnny, he was shouting. His words didn't affect me, I'd learned to grow a thick skin, but his punches did.

I'd never been punched before, not by a grown man at least, and it felt like the air dissipated from my lungs with each blow.

Pushing myself off the floor to check the damage in my bedroom mirror, I sighed. There was an obvious bruise forming on the high point of my cheek, one that would take layers of makeup to cover. I lifted my shirt to reveal a purple bruise lining my ribs alongside a faded scar from the time he threw me on the floor into a pile of broken glass.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to let the tears stream down my cheeks like rivers of my broken childhood but I couldn't. I refused to cry. I refused to be weak. The weakness didn't help and the fear only elicited more pain.

I'd learned these things the hard way. As a child I felt. I let every emotion course through my body with so much power it took over. I cried, I begged and I yelled but nothing happened. I was powerless in this house. The four walls surrounding me felt as if they were littered with spikes waiting to close in on me.

My only escape was in the form of a blonde ballerina with a heart of gold and her two brothers. Going to the Kavanagh's when I was younger was bittersweet. It was an escape, their home was filled with love and warmth. Edel's home cooked meals filled the air with comfort. Family dinners and game nights allowed for me to feel normal—to feel loved.

But as amazing as it was to have them, it also hurt. It was a reminder of everything I didn't have at the place that was supposed to be home. I'd never tell my parents, but to me this house wasn't my home, it never had been. My home was the Kavanagh's and the people inside it.

A faint knock on my bedroom door was accompanied by my mam's hushed voice, "Gracelyn, baby, can I come in?"

No.

"Sure," I sighed, pulling my shirt back down.

Her eyes took in the sight of the bruise on my cheek and a hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Gracelyn."

She moved to wrap her arms around me and as badly as I wanted her to hold me, I stepped back. I wanted my mam, I loved my mam but I couldn't let her do this.

"No," I swallowed down my sadness. "You can't try and take it away with a hug."

"Gracelyn," she frowned.

"No, Mam. You let this happen, you let him hit me and you just sat and stared. You're a ghost in this house, you never do anything." I fought my tears, refusing to show her how badly I was hurting.

"I love him, Gracelyn. You might not get that, but it's hard. Love is hard," she sniffled.

"It's not hard! That boy that was here today, I love him, Mam. I love him so much and he would never hurt me, ever. Love isn't hard, or at least it shouldn't be!"

"You love that boy? You don't know the first thing about love," her eyes flashed with worry. "Who is that boy?"

"He's Johnny, Adeline's brother. I've only talked about him everyday for the past five years," I released a strangled laugh. "And yes I do know about love. I know that what you and dad have is not the love I want."

"I don't trust that boy," Mam worried her lip. "I know you think the Kavanagh's are a dream, but they aren't your family. I'm your family and I'm trying to do what's best for you."

I laughed, "and what's best for me is getting a fist to the face?"

"Your father didn't mean that, he's just concerned. He doesn't think that boy is good for you either," she frowned.

"What would you know about him? Johnny is good, he's sweet and would never hurt me! Two things you know nothing about." I yelled, running a hand through my hair. "Now get the fuck out of my room."

"Gracelyn!"

"What? Are you going to hit me too?" I laughed, "actually fuck it, I'll leave."

I shoved past her, and ran down the stairs, flinging open the front door. The night air engulfed me and gave me a sense of peace. I was out of that house, I was safe.

I wanted to call Johnny. I needed him because he was stuck in my head and it was making me dizzy but he'd see the bruise. He'd see it and bulldoze right into my house until my father was the one with a bruise. A part of me found comfort in that—in the fact that he'd do anything to protect me—but I was also terrified. He wouldn't understand why I tried to hide this.

Johnny was smart but he was also destructive. I'd known this since I was little, he wanted to protect the people he loved even if that meant destroying the world. If he found out, he'd make a huge deal out of it. Maybe it was a big deal, maybe I'd become immune to it, but it was fine. I didn't want to talk to the Gard's, I didn't want to relive my past, I just wanted to graduate secondary school and get the hell away from this house.

Accepting that I couldn't go to the Kavanagh's tonight, I wandered the streets. I didn't care that it was dark or slightly unsettling, anything was better than being in that house.

Anything was better than being near the people who brought me into this world.
And that thought was extremely depressing.