I am incredibly busy, so this is an extra I didn't plan on giving just yet, but I think it gives a bit more insight into Sylvia. So enjoy sweet friends!
When I was a young, I used to think that what my mother was doing was normal. I'd skip to school, and wonder why no one else had bruises or burns. Course, I was just a kid, but I thought that she was just like any other mother.
I tried my best to love her, convinced myself that every time she hit me, that I had done something real wrong. Deep down I think I knew I hated her. I knew that with every remark, slap, raised voice, she was just feeding that anger, and that hatred.
Danny always took the worst of it, probably because he just got angry with her. Their shouts plagued my nights.
Most times, when I went to sleep she was there in my mind, even after she left. It was always the iron there with her. I would scream, and cry, and beg. Even when I knew the dream was not real, the pain stayed.
Nowadays, I know when it isn't real, I know that when I shut my eyes, anything I see will not be real, no matter how it feels, but there's always one night that shakes me up terrible.
. . .
"Damn it Danny, what have I told you." I close my eyes at the table, trying to focus on my arithmetic problems.
The shouts only get louder, and I try to drown them out by repeating the pledge of allegiance in my head. Ms. Henry said I could lead it in the morning, and I can't let her down.
Last week Bill forgot the ending, and the whole class had a right laugh while he stood at the front of the room red as a ripe tomato. I don't want everyone to laugh at me.
I hear the fight turn violent, so I slip out of my chair and tiptoe down the hall, hiding behind a wall so that I can just barely see them.
Danny ain't looking real good, so I step into the room. I know I'm shaking like a leaf, but my mom always stops to listen to me. Even if she can be real mean, I'm still her little girl.
"Mama?" I ask timidly, looking up at her.
Her blond hair is messy, and her dress is all wrinkly. She stops and looks at me, still holding the iron in her hand. Just beyond her I see my daddy's shirts piled up like she's fixing to iron them.
"Yes Sylvia?" she sighs, coming towards me, she looks mad.
"Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to hear me recite the pledge of allegiance. Ms. Henry said that tomorrow I get to lead, and I've been practicing all evening." I force I smile up at her, hoping that this will distract her enough to leave Danny alone.
"I don't have time for this, go on Sylvia." She grumbles, moving to shove me out the door. Instead her iron connects with my arm and stomach.
I scream, I scream so loud that I'm sure everyone in town can hear me. The pain is unbearable, it's like I've been set on fire, and she doesn't let up, shoving me until I'm far out of the room and fall to the ground.
I'm still screaming, but suddenly I'm not in my house anymore, and someone is shaking me, but the pain won't stop.
Tears roll down my face as I take in the hotel room.
"Sylvia, wake up." A voice commands, and I realize that it happened again.
Panting, I roll out of the arms that hold me and near sprint straight into the bathroom. Trying to ignore the grime, I slide to the floor, sobbing.
There has to be something real wrong with me. I don't know why I can't just keep on moving. Something has tied me to this link of life, and I can't break it.
Dallas pounds on the door, but I won't open it. Eventually his pleas get real desperate, but still I stay in the bathroom.
I need Danny, or Tim, or Karen. Someone who knows and understands. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, and start to recite the pledge in my mind.
Eventually I feel safe enough to stand, so I do. I pull myself up to have a proper look in the mirror. Cringing when I see my puffy eyes, I slowly lift up Dal's shirt.
I do this every time, it's like I think it won't be there. It always is.
The ugly brown skin mars my stomach. It got the worst of the burn, and because we didn't go to the doctor when it got yellow and burnt like a fever, it healed even worse.
I keep looking at it, knowing that somehow it ruins me. It takes away any little value I have.
"Jeez Sylv." I jump when Dallas's voice carries over to me.
He leans with his arms crossed, standing in the doorway of the now opened door. I quickly drop the shirt, looking down at the counter.
He's cautious as he takes some steps towards me. His eyes hold a concern I've never seen in him.
"You're okay." He whispers, cupping my cheeks, before his hands run down my arms and to the bottom of the shirt.
My breath hitches, and I watch his face curiously. His hands move under my shirt and my heart beats uncontrollably.
"You're okay." He whispers again, bunching up the shirt until he gets just above the scar.
He just looks at it for a second, and then reaches out to touch it with a frown.
"Man, I'm going to kill whoever did this to you." He suddenly growls, anger flashes in his eyes, but he's still gentle with his hands running over my stomach.
He stands quickly, walking out the door, and leaving our room, slamming things around and making a racket as he does.
Trying to be tough, I quit my crying and pull on a hotel robe. Tying the belt up real tight, walk out into the frigid night air.
Dallas stands just out of the light, puffing on a cancer stick like his life depends on it.
He starts to talk before I can even ask him to go outside.
"Ya know, I've always wondered why it had to be kids like you and Johnnycake, man." He drags, flicking off some ashes as he exhales the smoke into the night.
"You both got hearts, and people still use you," he starts to pace "and here I am, and I'm not nearly as miserable, but I'm a hell of a lot more upset than you are."
"Dal, let's go inside." I plead, shaking like a leaf.
Dallas just keeps rambling, and eventually I just grab his hand and lead him right back in the door.
"You know, I'm gonna protect you now. Like a real life super hero. You and Johnny, I'm gonna take care of you." He mutters seemingly more to himself.
"Okay Dallas." I smile, leading him to the bed.
He settles in, and I lay down, quickly cuddling myself into his side like I'm begging him to hold me so that the nightmares can't get me.
YOU ARE READING
Sylvia
FanfictionI don't even know if I remember the first time I saw him. Back then I didn't pay him one glance, but there was something about Dallas Winston like the irritating way gum sticks to the bottom of your shoe, and glory, I hated to love him. He was bold...
