Running

Chapter One

Saturday, May 31, 2014

"Kenna Elizabeth!" I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could get them and held my breath. The voice that summoned me was my father's. His tone was not one to be appreciated. But then, it never was.

I procrastinated as long as I could. I stood up and looked at the wrinkled spot in my bed where I had just been sitting. I straightened the turquoise comforter. I ran my hands over the top of it, smoothing it out. Standing up straight again, I grinned at the realization that it looked so perfect. I wasn't grinning because I was proud. I grinned because I knew that underneath the comforter, my sheets were all twisted up at the bottom of my bed. I realized that the current state of my bed was a metaphor of my life. On the outside it appeared perfect and controlled. It did a beautiful job of hiding what it really looked like on the inside, a tangled up mess. One not easily fixed. In fact, it would take stripping it bare to fix it. Maybe that is what I needed to do...

"Kenna Elizabeth O'Hare! Get your butt down here now!" his thundering voice rolled through the house. I was sure I felt it through the floorboards. I sighed. I couldn't procrastinate anymore. I would get a beating for sure, if I wasn't in for one as it was. I started to head out, but caught my reflection in the mirror on my closet doors. I paused, remembering that I was wearing a tank top and sport shorts.

I stared at myself. I was not skinny, but far from fat. Just a little fluffier around the edges. My chest was larger than the few friends I had. I thought my auburn hair looked pretty as it fell over my bare shoulder, framing my freckled face. Other girls were ashamed of their freckles, but I kind of liked them.

My parents would never approve of what I was wearing. I yanked a sweatshirt over my head then pulled an ankle length skirt over my shorts. I threw my hair up into a parent-approved bun and walked out into the hall, being sure to shut my bedroom door behind me.

As I trudged down the hall I looked at the pictures framed on the wall. Hypocritical family photos. Lying to visitors, saying we were a happy family. But what they saw was the furthest from the truth. The truth no one but us knew.

I sighed as I entered the so-called family room. My father, mother and brother were all there. Father was scowling at me. I looked at the floor. He cleared his throat, requesting me to look at him. I did.

"Kenna, why did you not come when I called for you?" He asked.

"I-I..." I couldn't answer him. I was scared. I knew what was coming.

"You will come when I call you. The first time I call you. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes sir. I understand."

"Good. Now..." he raised his left hand over his right shoulder. I flinched. My brother giggled. I shut my eyes and sucked in air. My body tensed. I felt his knuckles hit my cheek, through to my teeth. His flesh against my flesh stung. As I opened my eyes and carefully let the air I had been holding be released from my lungs I realized my brother was laughing now. He was sick. Father grinned. He'd been hitting me for all fifteen years of my life. He didn't love me. Nobody did.

My brother had stopped laughing, but he sat there grinning like the seventeen year old idiot he was. He was almost as bad as my father. I hoped he would never have children. He was abused as much as I, but he didn't seem to care. He even took part in abusing me. I was barely twelve when he told Father he wanted to sleep with his girlfriend. Father taught him. In one night I was raped by them both.

Chris never came back to me, but Father did. Often. He snuck me birth control pills to ensure I would never get pregnant. I wished I would though. I wasn't allowed to be out past 7 PM and I was homeschooled (to hide the bruises), so there wasn't any chance for me to be with another guy. I wanted to tell someone. Mother would never believe me. She didn't know about it, but she abused me in other ways, so I don't think she would care. I didn't know who I could talk to, so I just kept quiet and put up with it.

"What did you need me for?" I asked Father.

He looked at Mother, "Nothing, never mind. Just don't forget we have church in the morning."

Ha. Church. I hated church. I didn't want to hear lies about a God who supposedly cares about me. He obviously doesn't. And why would I want to be a Christian? My parents are Christians. They abuse me. Christians are nothing more than abusive hypocrites putting on a facade.

"May I be excused, then?" I asked.

Father nodded.

"May I take a bath, sir?"

Again, he nodded. This time, though, his eyes lit up. Disgusting. I would need to be sure I locked the door...

"Make sure you wash behind your ears, Sweets." Mother said, smirking.

I turned around so she couldn't see me roll my eyes. "Yes, ma'am." I said politely. I walked to the bathroom I shared with Chris, which was filthy with gross boy pee. It didn't get clean unless I cleaned it. The bathtub was the cleanest part of it, as he never took a shower.

I shut and locked the bathroom door, jiggling the knob to be sure, and slipped out of my clothes. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it and stuck my toes in. Hot. Very hot. Perfect. I slowly slipped into the water. The heat burned my skin, turning it bright red instantly. It hurt so bad that it felt good. It was an escape. I sat there and soaked until the water began to feel cold. I didn't bother actually getting clean.

I drained the water and climbed out. I picked up a threadbare towel off the floor and began to dry the water off of my bare skin. I grabbed my robe off the door and wrapped it around myself. I unlocked the door and peeked down the hallway. Clear. I stepped out and headed to my room at the end of the hall.

I was only a few steps from my room when I heard footsteps down the hall. Father. I quickened my pace, slipping into my room, locking my bedroom door behind me. He started banging on my door and yelling at me. I ignored him as I put clean underwear and an oversized sweatshirt on. I climbed into bed as he continued making a ruckus. I twisted the sheets around my feet and shoved a pillow over my ears. It wasn't long before I fell asleep. Another day survived.