Black and Blue

Peyton

I was so excited to graduate high school.  I was valedictorian, which Stanford liked.  I had no ties left to this shitty little school, I could go out of state and become a new person.  I had my dorm room picked out and had already talked to my roommate, Jenna.  She was going to be a freshman also and was as excited to meet me as I was to meet her.  I left for Stanford a week before classes started.  My mom managed to clear a path from her sea of cheap vodka bottles to the door to wave goodbye to me.  She had to lean against the door frame for support. 

                The ride to Stanford was very long.  Ten hours by yourself in a tiny little car full of every possession to your name gets tiring.  I didn’t want to stop and stay at a hotel, so I suffered through and drove until I arrived at my dorm.  Jenna was waiting outside and helped me bring my things into the room.  In our room there were two beds on opposite sides of the room.  She told me she wanted the left side, but didn’t mind switching with me.  I let her keep the left side.

                On the Friday before classes started, Jenna and I went to the bookstore on campus to get our textbooks.  We also stopped at advisement to get our schedules.  I was that much closer to starting the rest of my life.  These classes were going to get me that much closer to my dream career and that much farther away from my drunk of a mother.  Well, so I thought anyway.  College was harder than I expected.  A lot harder.  I was so used to not having to study in high school that I never learned how to properly study my materials or even take notes.  The professors were not kind and did not slow down for just one student like teachers did in high school.  I was smart in a small town school ranked the worst in education but so, so dumb and foolish in college.  I attended tutoring and joined study groups.  I paid my classmates what I could to help me with assignments.  It was no use, I was flunking all my classes.

                I went home after my first semester and never went back.  I was a college drop out.  I could hear my resume being declined already.  I reluctantly moved back in with my mother and eventually found a job at the gas station a few miles away.  It was actually an easy bike ride from my house.  I, unfortunately, saw lots of familiar faces from school who silently judged me for dropping out of college.  I could just as easily judge them for never going to college or never moving out of our small, shitty town.  I could judge them for getting pregnant out of wedlock at eighteen years old.  But I didn’t.  I might’ve disliked these people but at least they were doing what they expected to do out of high school.  I can’t say the same. 

                One night, after a long shift at the gas station, I arrived home to see my mother sprawled out on the floor surrounded by empty beer cans and a man I didn’t recognize passed out on the couch.  I tip toed around them to try and get to my room, but I startled the man by accidentally kicking a can.  “Shut the fuck up,” He groaned as he tossed a can at me.  I rolled my eyes and continued walking to my room.  I closed my door louder than needed just to hear the man grumble and throw a can at my door.  I hated living at home.  I hated my mother and her drunken choices.  I hated that she put alcohol and strange men before me.  I had just fallen asleep when I heard my door being slammed open.  I jumped up out of bed to see the man from before stumbling towards me.  “That couch is uncomfortable, share yer bed.” He demanded in a slur of words.  I yelled at him to get out of my room, but he didn’t listen.  He tripped over my backpack and fell into me, throwing us both onto my bed.  “Yer pretty, did ya know that?” the man asked me as he wiped his spilled beer off his gross t-shirt.  “Prettier than yer mom anyhow.” He laughed as he tried to cup my face and leaned into me.  I pushed his face away and demanded he get off of me.  That, apparently, was a mistake to do.  The man became angry and pinned me down against the bed with all the strength he could muster.  “No one rejects me, girly.” He slurred with a shit grin on his face.  He leaned in to try and kiss me again, and I rejected him once more.  He was pissed at this point, and slapped me hard.  “I said, no one rejects me, bitch!” he shouted as he threw me off the bed.  “Just as useless as your fuckin’ mother.” He bundled himself up under my covers and fell asleep.  I threw all of my belongings that would fit in my duffle bag, walked out the front door and never looked back.

                Life after high school has fucking sucked.  I thought life would be so much easier.  I thought I’d do well in college, maybe even graduate early.  I wanted to prove my classmates wrong.  I wanted to prove my mother wrong.  I wanted to show everyone I was strong, that I was independent.  I didn’t want anyone to help me.  I didn’t want their charity.  Yet, here I was, dialing the only number I knew by heart in the nearest payphone.  The phone rang ten times before they answered, my heart was racing.  I hadn’t talked to them in years, this was going to be devastatingly awkward. 

                “Hello?” A groggy, sleepy voice answered.  I hesitated.

“Uh, hello?  You do know it’s two in the morning, right?” The voice said, irritated.

“Hey uh…It’s me.” I said softly into the phone.  He wasn’t going to know who this was.  There’s no way ‘It’s me’ would be enough for him to know. 

“Holy shit, Pey?” The voice suddenly sounded more awake and focused.  “Shit, man.  What’s been going on?”  It’s like he forgot it was even two in the morning.  It’s like he forgot I woke him up from a dead sleep.  It was like how we used to talk.

“Look, Jake, I’m just gonna cut to the chase.  Long story short, I’m back home and my mom’s newest boyfriend attacked me and I just really need somewhere to go.  I can’t stay here anymore.”  I rushed the words out of my mouth before I could take them back.  Jake didn’t reply for a long time.

“I know we don’t talk anymore Jake and I know we didn’t really end things great but I’m sorry.  I…I need you.” I was on the verge of crying.  The line was quiet and I was convinced he had hung up on me.  Soon, I heard rustling.  “Meet me at the gas station by your house, I’ll be by to pick you up soon.” Jake said before hanging up the phone.  I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off at me or if he was sincere about seeing me again, but at that moment I didn’t care.

                I just wanted to be away from home.