River of Red

IV

As the day went on I realized the boy was probably a stalker. He had every class I had. He always sat near me and watched me during class. Girls would talk to him, but he would brush them away like flies. He said he'd sit with me at lunch.
When it was time for lunch you could say I was a little nervous.
Maybe more than a little.
Maybe more than a lot.
I hiked my backpack over my shoulder and continued down the hall. The lunchroom was packed as usual. I grabbed an apple and a chocolate chip muffin and proceeded to my usual spot alone by a window.
My gaze traveled across the lunchroom, landing on the large ceiling to floor window beside me. The grass was lush and green, and the trees full and colorful. The wind rocked the trees like a lulaby. There were no clouds in the sky and it was as blue as the ocean. Not that I had ever seen the ocean, only in pictures.
Someone sat next to me.
I almost jumped out of my skin.
"Shit, you scared me!" I said.
The boy looked sideways at me, "You knew I was coming though."
I scowled, "Well that doesn't mean you popping in wouldn't scare me!" I looked at my muffin. He looked at his hands.
A moment of silence.
He turned to face me, and I faced him, "I just remembered, I never got your name."
Hmm, I guess he hadn't, Well this could be fun. I decided to play a game.
I stuck out my hand, "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Tzipacka, and you are..."
He took my hand, shaking it, "My name's Nolan, nice to meet you Tzipacka."
I dropped his hand and burst out laughing.
He frowned, "Why are you laughing?"
I laughed more, but finally got a hold on myself.
"My name's Katrina, not Tzipacka, and I laughed because you said it so weirdly. It was, like, all proper," I said in a British accent,"like Tzipacka, I am a proper English lad."
He smiled, a closed off secrative smile, and it wiped my smile off my face.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
His smile dimmed, "Nothing, Nothing. Let's go outside, okay?"
I nodded.
To my surprise, he grabbed my hand.
I gasped.
His hand was so cold.
I mean, my hand was constantly cold, but it was weird to have someone with an equally cold hand. My friend Hanna always used to make fun of my cold, sweaty hands, but she moved away two months ago, leaving me with no friends...
I pushed those thoughts away, I couldn't think about my only friend leaving like that. Granted, it wasn't her fault, but I was still sad nonetheless.
He tugged on my hand, pulling me up beside him as he stood up. As soon as I was up, I pulled my hand away. I was suddenly conscious of my cold, sweaty hands. I wrung my hands together wondering what to do.
He grabbed my hand again, but this time he whispered in my ear, "I don't mind your hands, if you can't tell mine are just as cold."
This time I didn't let go.
________________

The wind was warm and welcoming as it brushed its soft fingers through my hair and across my skin.
This is the kind of day I love.
The warm summer air smelt sweet in the breeze, and carried hints of trees and colors. The wind whistled a tune, not a care in the world as it flew free.
I wish I had that freedom. The idea of running away and never looking back had tempted me so much, but I had no money, food, or ways to sustain myself.
My life had been screwed over.
So that's why I walked home. That's why I didn't have nice clothes. That's why I couldn't sleep in my own bed if my mom was home. That's why she hit me.
I had been completely and utterly screwed over.
My foots kept stepping, my breath still flowing, my heart still pumping. That all still happened no matter how my brain felt. I wondered if my heart ever got tired, my lungs not capable, or my legs no longer strong enough to hold me up. That's how my brain feels, but my body keeps working like a well oiled machine.
As I walked down the road I could not help think about that. The gravel crunched under my feet and made a soft noise compared to the nature that was around me. The walk home from school had been a long one, full of hills and hairpin turns, but I had walked it so much I could do it blindfolded.
I finally saw my house and noticed something in the driveway.
A car.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit!
My mom was home.
I ran.
I ran at dead sprint, straight toward the woods, but the sound of a door slamming echoed down the road.
"KAATRINA!"
I skidded to a stop and looked down the road. There she was, in the driveway, standing in all her glory, a nasty look on her face.
"GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"
I slowly started walking to the house, but hurried when I saw the expression on her face. Only when I was close to her did I realise she had something in her hand.
A belt.
"Mom is everything okay?" I asked tentatively.
She growled, her hands were shaking wih anger, "No! Why was there a blanket over your window, huh?" She asked, anger spillign out of her every pore.
"Was a boy here? Are you keeping secrets? FUCKING TELL ME!"
I kept quiet, knowing it would only make it worse if I tried to tell her the truth.
She raised the belt, and I cringed away, knowing it would soon fly toward me.
She swung the belt at my face.
It hit my eye.
I could see nothing in my left eye.
It was black.
She swung again, hitting my right cheek, and a splitting, searing pain stabbed me. I raised up my hand to my cheek, lowered it.
It was bloody.
Again she swung the belt, again and again, leaving welts and slices in my skin.
I fell to the ground.
She beat my face, arms back, and chest. Almost twenty minutes later she finally stopped. I looked up at her. She met my eyes.
"If you ever do that again," her voice was threatening, "it will be ten times worse."
I tried to nod, but I found that I couldn't move my neck.
She walked away, feet crunching the gravel, and got in her car. As she left I let out a feeble breath. This had been the worst time she had ever beaten me. 

I realized she had left me, broken bloody, and baren in the driveway.

She had left me for dead.
In the gravel there was a note, I finally managed to decider what it said.
And her anger made sense.
The note had said Jerry broke up with her.