Ryan paused and looked at me. "Do you want to try?"
I inched forward. I did want to try. I've never played guitar before. He dragged another chair for me to sit on and helped me position the guitar in my hands. "I've never played before," I told him.
"I kind of self-taught myself," he said. "Just try it out. Get the feel of it first." I almost started playing when I heard someone yelling. It was Ryan's mother.
"I don't buy juice for it to be gone in two days," Ryan's stepfather yelled. "Crystal didn't get any."
I watched as Ryan's facial expression changed from happy to sad. He let out a long sigh. He had told me his stepfather didn't like him and that he was very stingy with everything, even food. He loved his real daughter more than anything. He told me stories of how his stepfather would hide food, and watch him whenever he made lunch. It's was at the point where Ryan stopped going in the kitchen and often bought his own food whenever he got money. If you asked him where his money went, he would say food. He's told me he often brought home cafeteria food from school and ate it for dinner. Even though he was thirteen, his stepfather always made him nervous.
The arguing continued and Ryan only looked miserable. I started playing to get his mind off of things. It certainly did catch his attention, because I played like a failure. Cover your ears while you can, I thought. He laughed and shook his head. "That's how I first sounded too."
We laughed. Ryan's laugh made me laugh harder. It was so goofy. There was a knock at the door that startled us, followed by a glass breaking in the background. His mother peeked inside. "Please excuse your guest, Ryan," she said, then closed the door.
He walked me outside. He told me that if it was okay with my mom, he would love to head to the park sometime to play soccer or whatever. I told him I would ask, and then we went our separate ways.
On the way back home, I couldn't help but think about what Ryan was going through. He was such a wonderful boy. Why would anyone try to break him like his stepfather was doing? I thought about bringing him some food, but I wouldn't want his stepfather and mother to know he's told me about them. They have a rule. 'What goes on in this house, stays in this house.'
When I got to Aunt Denise's house, I saw Zachary sitting on the couch, looking at the ceiling. I took off my shoes and joined him. "Hey, Zach," I said. "What are you looking at?"
He pointed at the ceiling. "Someone was watching me," he said.
I looked at him and my heart started pounding. No. Not this again. He turned to me and smiled. He threw something onto the ceiling. It was one of those toy slimy pair of eyes that stuck to almost anything. "See, they're watching me." He giggled.
I sighed in relief. Zachary put out his hands and waited for the eyes to fall. I sat up and went to the guest room. My mom, Denise, and another woman I'd never seen before were all laughing and talking about the newest hair trends. The woman was beautiful. She was tall and skinny and wore a short red dress decorated with sparkly designs. A model, I thought.
"There she is," the woman said.
My aunt smirked. "Yeah, she was over with the Smiths." She stood up and gestured to the woman. "This is the next door neighbor, Katherine."
"Call me, Kathy," she said. She had a beautiful voice. So soft and delicate.
My mother smiled at her. "She's going to teach me how to crochet better. You can join us if you'd like."
I shook my head. "No, thanks." Guitar lessons were enough. Since that was my room now and I didn't want to disturb them, I decided to just sit on the couch and watch TV. Wow, did it feel good to be normal. I just wish it had lasted longer than it really had.
YOU ARE READING
Violet
HorrorA loving father desperate for power. A mother trying to save her family. A girl named Violet trying to find out what went wrong in her life and why her father is desperate for her to sacrifice her soul to an evil book.