Your Lies Are Your Only Mask

When Fears Come to Play

Chapter 2

Enjoy!

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We supposedly 'met' in a playground one night. I was about 9 and he was 11. I had run away after my dad had hit me yet another time. Another 2 bottles of alcohol flowing through his system. There was more vodka in his veins, than actual blood itself. This was a time in my life where I cried if something hurt me, in this case it was someone.

Anyway, I was lying on the top floor of the climbing frame. Another one of my sanctuaries where no one could harm me. The sky was clear that night, compared to my clouded mind, it was peaceful. I sang songs to myself to soothe me. I can't remember what they were now, probably some meaningless nursery rhyme that I imagine my mum must have sung to me. Before she fucked off with my old next door neighbour that is.

I heard footsteps coming towards me. Of course you'd expect me to be scared, hearing a stranger about to come and reveal your hiding place. The fear of being hurt, or worse. I was simply intrigued. I watched past a blue support pole as a figure in black emerged. They hadn't seen me, yet. The person who I had now guessed was a boy, opened the gate to the child's playground and slouched over to the slide. He then proceeded to climb up it and rest right next to me. The dark consumed me and I was able to look at him easily.

"Isn't it strange how stars always seem to shine brighter, but never get bigger?" He questioned suddenly. I gasped, now knowing he had seen me.

"They're just taunting us." I replied, staring at one star that caught my eye in particular.

"Maybe." He replied, now turning his legs to face me. "I've not seen you here before." He said with a suspicious look on his young face.

"Like stars, I'm not out all the time."

He smiled shyly, "Fair enough." We were engulfed in silence for a moment but it wasn't awkward. "What are you doing here at precisely - nine twenty six, on a Thursday evening?" He asked as he folded his legs and gazed at me.

"The same thing I do every time I come here." He raised an eye brow in question,

"And what's that?"

"Escape."

***

I dropped my keys on the side table, cautiously removing my bag from my tired shoulders. The house was silent, raising my hope. Just one night I hoped he wouldn't be here, just one. My feet padded through the cluttered hallway, the countless Carlings bottles and vodka shot glasses lying on the floor caused me to grimace. I pushed the door open revealing an empty kitchen. A shaky sigh of relief left my mouth and I dropped onto a kitchen chair.

"Oh Darren, I'll be back tomorrow." I snapped my head up at the sound of voices coming from upstairs. There were more murmurs and high shrieks before a blonde blob appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She publically rearranged her short dress and fluffed up her already wild hair. I guessed she couldn't be any older than 35, definitely younger than my dad. She snatched her bag from the floor and whisked around as my dad came into view. More squeals could be heard from the pair and I had to turn away to stop myself from gagging.

"And finally, the daughter has come home." My dad smirked and wobbled towards me. He pulled the woman behind him who struggled to keep up in her heels. When they stopped she held onto him like a lost child and held a smug look on her face. They could barely stand up they were so drunk.

"So you're - um, what's your uh, name again?" 

"Not something you need to know." I snapped and stood to get a drink.

"Hey!" my dad said sternly, "Mind your attitude."

"I'll mind my attitude when you're dead." I muttered. The room was silent and I turned to face my dads cold glare.

"I'll see you out, Jenna." He said sternly, and ushered her out of the house. Within a minute he was back and grabbing me by the back of my neck. He pushed me to the floor and knelt down next to me. "If you ever speak to her, or embarrass me like that again. I'll kick you so hard you wont be able to tell the difference between night and day. Do .You. Understand. Me?" He growled. When I didn't answer he grabbed my arm, "I said. Do you understand me?" He squeezed my wrist tighter and tighter. It burned when I tried to pull it away. There were no words coming out, so I nodded and he released me. His smirk appearing once again. The fridge door opened and he whisked another beer from the shelf. He pushed my head as he walked out of the room and there I stayed, staring at the endless lines that were marked up my arms. Blood seeped out of the now re-opened ones like the tears that I hadn't cried over the years. My fingers traced over the scars as the memories came flooding back to me, my stomach clenched but I remained on the floor, soon drifting into a deep sleep.

***