Lose Yourself

Chapter 4 My Story

Chapter 4

My story

It was one week before school started. I'll be a sophomore. And I won't know anyone at the new school besides Eden, Trevor, Cody, and Izza. I'm pretty much used to not having many friends anyway. When I still lived with my dad, I didn't have very many friends. Didn't like to get to know people, and I didn't like people to know about me.

At least I'll know someone. And besides, I don't want to know anyone. I don't want them to know about me or my life. Friends can turn their back on you before you could blink. They might pretend to be friends so they can find out about your life. Then, go talk about you behind your back to their other bitchy friends. Make up rumors that are so insane you think people would definitely be able to tell it's a rumor, and not believe it. But no, wrong. It seems people will believe almost anything just so they have something to talk about. To compare to their lives and be so glad they aren't "That Girl". And then you become an outcast even more then you already are. Just because you trusted the wrong person.

Told them you're secrets. Your life. Things you except them to keep a secret. But they just want to make themselves more popular and end up making someone else miserable. What's so great about being popular anyway? You'd have billions of friends, but you'd hardly know at least three of those friend personally. Wouldn't you rather have one friend that you could depend on? To help you? Do their best to make you feel like at least one person in the whole world loves you. God knows I've never had a friend like that.

And one day, the rumors start up about you. You've heard rumors before, never really believed them or thought much about them. And definitely never thought they'd be about you. But one day you come to school. Glad to escape that hellhole of a house you're supposed to call home. Then during lunch, you're sitting alone, eating a sandwich, when a girl comes up and asks, "Is it true?"

You're not sure what she's talking about so you ask, "Is what true?"

"That your mom killed herself for having such a disappointment for a daughter and your dad beats you because of it."

At first, it's so crazy you wonder why people would believe that and how stupid the rumor is. Then you notice a few days later the rumor is the only thing that occupies your attention. And the questions start. Is that true? No, it couldn't be. It'd make sense, though. And then the rumor becomes puzzle pieces. You try to put different ideas together to see what fits. Did your Mom really hate you? She died and before she did, she had said she'd always protect you. Be your guarding angel. But that obliviously wasn't true.

Then for some insane and crazy reason, you tell your dad there's a rumor being spread about you. You don't tell him exactly what the rumor was about, so hopefully he won't get mad. Hoping that maybe he'll see through the abuse and cloudy darkness to really see his eight year old daughter. Your praying and hoping and wishing he'd give you a hug and tell you it's okay and he'll talk to your teacher. But that's not what happens. You end up with a slap across the face and your dad saying, "Buck up. You're eight, you can handle it."

I sighed slightly and looked over my high school schedule that had gotten sent in the mail.

Period one: Biology with Mrs. Fergus.

Period two: Theatre with Mrs. Nardone.

Period three: Geometry with Mr. Hyde.

Period four: Language Arts with Mrs. Moya.

Period five: Gym with Mrs. Smith.

Period six: Art with Mrs. Howard.

I sighed again. It'll be okay. At least I have art class. I've always loved art.

There was a knock on my bedroom door.

"Come in," I called, sitting up.

Cody walked in. "Hey."

"Hey." I said. He sat on my bed and unfolded a slip of paper.

"Want to see my schedule?"

"Okay." I handed Cody my schedule and I took his.

"We have second, fifth, and sixth period together." I said.

Cody smiled a little, "You're the only one that has classes with me. Trevor and Erin don't have any class with me, and neither do any of my other friends."

I smiled back. "I have classes with Erin. Not sure about Trevor or Izza, though."

"I don't think you have any classes with Trevor." Cody skimmed over my schedule again.

I shrugged. "I'll still see him after school. Did you have art class last year?"

"No, but I wanted to take it."

"I like art." I smiled and grabbed Rodger from behind my back. I hugged him close to my chest.

Cody smiled, "Rodger again," It might have sounded rude. But he said it kindly and gently. An opening for a conversation. A conversation I didn't want to have, but sooner or later I'd have to tell him.

"Yeah. My mom gave him to me."

"That was nice of her." He was giving me a choice. I could tell him on my own will right now, or back track.

I nodded. "She... She gave him to me a week before she passed away."

Cody covered my hand with his. His eyes filled with sadness. Like he truly understood.

"I'm sorry. It must have been pretty hard on you and your dad," I flinched for some reason when he said "Dad".

I nodded slightly. It was now or never. I took a deep breath. The words all flowing naturally to me, "When I was three, she died... And two years later, my dad had a bad day at work, I guess. That was the first day he hit me. Hitting turned into mental abuse. And, I guess he got off on that. Because when I was ten... he started touching me."

"Oh, Max," Fang shock his head, "I'm so so sorry. That's horrible." He squeezed my hand, tight. "That's... T-that's insane. How could he do that to you?"

"My thoughts exactly." I looked down at Rodger and started rubbing his ears with the hand Fang wasn't holding. I smiled a little, “He would always say 'Sorry, that I was his angel and he didn't know what he would do without me.”

"I hope the bastard is in jail."

I nodded. "Waiting trial. No bail."

Fang was quiet letting this all soak in. When a thought hit, why did I tell him all that? I just said I didn't want people knowing about me! And I just completely opened myself to him! Told him what my dad had done to me! What if he's one of those kids and starts more rumors! Tells people? How cold I be so arrogant? I'm so stupid! Just like my dad told me a hundred times! I'm stupid! Why did I do that? I had only known him for a month, for crying out loud! Who knew if I could trust him or not?

I wrenched my hand from his. "Excuse me," I stood up and closed the bedroom door, then walked into the bathroom. Locking that door behind me.

How could I tell him all that! I just completely and entirely opened myself to him! I hadn't said much, but he knew my story now.

I camped out in the bathroom for about an hour. I wanted to wait until Cody left. I didn't want to talk to him. I walked out of the bathroom and back into my room; I sat down on my bed. I heard a crinkle as if I sat down on paper. I stood up and looked at what at whatever it was. It was a note. I picked it up and opened it. In chicken scratch hand writing, it read, I'm sorry. Cody, that was my first thought. I sighed. He's sorry?

Sorry about what? My abusive dad? Him just feeling sorry that I had a shitty life? That I told him all that and ran from the room, so he probably thought I was upset. That he had made me upset. He's sorry. The words rang in my head. I'm not sure what he was sorry for, exactly, but whatever that was he's sorry for, I forgave him.