Getting to Know You

Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

                I didn’t climb back into my bedroom window until three in the morning, relieved that I had left it unlocked.  I cringed as I hoisted myself up onto the windowsill, the palms of my hands throbbing.  In my hurry to get to the park, my shoes had slid on the gravel as I rounded the corner.  I had caught myself with my hands and kept running, but now my palms were aching.  I quietly walked to my bathroom, grateful that I had my own, and turned on the light.  I stepped out of my shoes and shrugged out of my flannel, kicking them into a pile under the sink. 

                I washed the dirt out of my hands before I even dared look in the mirror, wincing as I ran my fingers over the small scratches in my irritated skin.  I tied my hair up, looking at my reflection.  I was a mess; my eyes were red and puffy, and I had traces of mascara running down my cheeks.  I ran my fingers over the bruise beneath my collarbone, cringing as I remembered how it got there.  He had thrown the bottle so hard and so fast that I hadn’t even seen it coming… I splashed some cold water onto my face, clearing my head of the memory and washing the mascara from beneath my eyes. 

                I stepped out of my shorts and climbed into bed, too tired to put on any sort of pajamas.  I closed my eyes, grimacing to myself as the small bump on the back of my head hit my pillow.  How could I have been so stupid?  I should never have brought Ashton back to my house.  I wasn’t ever planning on bringing him inside, it just kind of happened.  I had let my guard down and forgotten that I had a reason to worry, that I had to be afraid.  Today, I had gotten too comfortable with feeling free. 

My freedom left as soon as Ashton rounded the corner. 

I walked away from my escape as soon as I left the swing. 

There was always something; running from fear, walking away from my escape, sometimes my escape literally walking away from me just as Ashton had.  I would always be running from something.  I closed my eyes and started to cry, tears falling silently down my face.  Escape is temporary and freedom is fleeting, but I could live with that because even having a taste of it was better than nothing.  Fear, on the other hand, was ever present.  When I left home I was afraid, and I always returned feeling the same.  Even when I wasn’t feeling it at certain moments, it was always there, and that is what was so upsetting.

                I didn’t wake up the next morning until two o’clock, leaving me an hour and a half to get ready before I had to go to Kat’s.  I sent a message to my mom, showered, and dressed, pulling on a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey v-neck.  I grabbed a banana on my way out, noting that I desperately needed to bring groceries home from work.

                I walked to work, heading straight to Kat’s office as soon as I clocked in to get my apron.  I didn’t judge my time well enough and had clocked in a few minutes late.  “Kat, I’m so sorry I’m late.”  I said, out of breath as I opened the office door.  “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” She whispered harshly.  “No, I’ve never heard a word.”  She said into the phone.  She was pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, thinking.  “Don’t you think I would have noticed something like that?”  She raised her voice, opening her eyes and rubbing the palm of her hand on her jeans.  Her eyes widened when she saw me, her hands fumbling with the phone as she slammed it down onto the handset. 

“Oh, honey, you scared me!”  She exhaled, bringing her hands to her chest.  I blushed, walking to my locker and hanging up my purse.  “Sorry…” I mumbled, embarrassed that I had walked in on a clearly private conversation.  She laughed, shaking out her hands.  “No, no, it’s fine.”  She smiled, patting my shoulder.  I winced slightly under her touch but shook it off, smiling back.