Ivy's Beast

Ivy sat on the park bench, hoodie pulled down, shoulders slumped, her right leg tapping up and down to an invisible beat. The angry beast inside of her was fighting for control, and the faster she tried to keep it at bay the faster her leg twitched. Her dark green eyes darted back and forth, seeing everyone but seen by none. When she'd left home earlier, it had been bright and sunny, but now dark was coming upon the day. The sweatshirt wasn't enough to fight off the chill in the air, so the girl began rocking forward and backward, creating movement and heat.

She knew people walked around her, afraid to really see her. Ivy had been here before, on the bench in front of the tiger enclosure. The tiger paced back and forth, nervous or threatening or crazy. Ivy still couldn't decide. Being here helped the beast stay inside instead of raging out again. Causing problems again. She'd known she had to get out of her house when her mom started the screaming. The beast would not have lain dormant when Ivy was attacked. 

Thinking of her mother made Ivy's leg move double time. Stoned out of her mind, her loving mother had begun ranting about the missing television remote. Ivy never watched the t.v. in the living room, but her mother wasn't in a frame of mind to be logical. When the first slap landed, Ivy had rolled away, grabbed her bag, and run for it. She'd heard the smashing ashtray hit the inside of the front door as she'd slammed it shut behind her. The beast had awoken, clawing inside and begging to be let loose.

Ivy ran, her bag across her back, her legs pumping, driving her to safety and freedom. Without thought, she'd reached the bench. That had been hours ago, but Ivy wasn't sure if home was clear for return. So, she sat, and rocked, and tapped...all the while fighting off the beast.

Her biggest fear was that one day she would be unable to get out in time. No, check that. Her biggest fear was that one day she wouldn't want to get out in time. It would serve that crazy bitch right, the beast growled inside Ivy's head. Yes, it would, Ivy found herself smiling in answer before she could check her thoughts. Just let me show you, Ivy, the beast tempted. Together we can be so strong.

Ivy found herself picturing her mother's face if Ivy did indeed take a stand. The shocked expression, the fear, the realization that Ivy was done being treated like dirt. Her right leg was now still, and a calm descended over her, as a picture of her mother's still body, neck bent at an odd angle, quiet at last, filled her brain. Ivy's pupils had turned to slits, her rocking had ceased, and an evil grin began to cover her face.

Rising in response to the beast's coaxing, Ivy picked her bag off the bench and took a step forward. The roar of the thousand pound tiger resounded off her chest, knocking the beast's hold on Ivy, dropping her to her knees.