Short Stories II

Adeline's Lifeline

Adeline sneered against the windshield, squinting against the sun's overwhelming rays. His pickup truck was wobbling slowly down the dirt path leading to the mobible-ranch, pivoting to a stop once the house came into view. She was a deep thinker that girl, noticing just the way last night's rain spots ran against the collected dirt from years of driving these roads.
    Noticing the watchful eye of her old dog, Standifer, Adeline took her time stepping out of the vehicle, being sure to playfully glare in his direction. It was a staring competition until someone broke contact, and most of the time, he won.
    "C'mon girl," He said, teetering on his weak hips as he wobbled inside. Steam billowed against the kitchen, meaning that her mama was busy making some afternoon hot tea for herself. That was close to the only thing she ate nowadays.
    Today felt like a more peaceful day for Adeline. Typically harrowing in Portugal's barn with a pamphlet of a paperback book in hand to pass the time, she rarely had time around people. Spending time alone with the family's horse and isolated in her brain was much safer than any other alternative she had. So there she went straight to, until he gave her a wave towards the house.
    Adeline's pale skin blemishes under the sun's hot rays and her step-father's wishes, instructing her through the front door with him. She wasn't often inside the house unless he wanted to be pleasured.
    "C'mere girl." He patted the seat next to him, but Adeline didn't sit down. She hesitated before stepping closer to where he sat, feeling her hands tingle in nerve. All he did was watch her, with his steady eyes blankly staring into her face. When he looked at Adeline, he looked at every part of her very carefully, as though to plan an algorithm to her body. He did this every once in a while, his cold stare resting on her rounded shoulders and soft skin. He wanted more than what the eye could see.
    Adeline glanced in her mother's direction subtly, almost asking her with her eyes to save her. Maybe this time her mother would split the two and announce the act disgusting and wrong. Maybe she wouldn't hand her over to him this time. Maybe.
    Her skinny frame hung in the corner of the kitchen, with her frail body latched to the wall with a steamy mug in hand. Her crude eyes motioned, 'Let him touch you.' 'Just do it. There's nothing wrong with this...'
    It was disheartening. The slim strands of blonde hair curling at her collar bone sparkled a brilliant shimmer, trailing down her body like spiraling hay from the barn. He didn't often notice this, but his hands wandered to the fine hair as he brushed her in the direction of the hallway of the mobile home. The hall was short and led to two diverging rooms across from one another, with a rickety bathroom with rusted toilet and laundry mats. He often took Adeline into her parent's bedroom. Once the door was locked, she'd be locked away as long as he needed her. Sometimes hours passed with the sunsetting through the flimsy window curtains, the light becoming dimmer and dimmer as time came closer to the darkest night.
    It was night time when she really suffered. Once he was done using her body, he was off to crash into the family room in front of the little box tv. He often fell asleep there, with Adeline left to herself in the dark. This was when she had to process what had just happened following the molestations. She'd be left with soaps from the bathroom's cupboard to activate her gag reflex, and the leftovers from dinner to sweep from the countertops in one gulp.
    With her prying fingers craving food, she didn't stop herself from swallowing an entire box of off-brand crackers. She didn't stop there, swiping for the last poptarts and unshelled peanuts in a short frame of time. Waves of nausea plastered her mind when she finally brushed the peppery crumbs from her chin at the end of her binge.
Her utter worthlessness was beginning to re-manifest, as she stood in her small peach colored shirt from fifth grade, as though a wave of harsh fabric were rippling against her heart and lungs, tying her chest and forehead into a tight knot of pity.
She felt not only the prickle of a lost sense of worth, but the pivotal moment of realizing what she was; a girl who was nothing but Daddy's pleasure and Mommy's instrument for him to stay. She wasn't human anymore.
    Adeline felt her chin quiver with sadness. A tear let loose down her soft applecheeks, dripping to the grimy floorboards. For an instance, for just a moment, she had felt at peace with herself. In the moment, her feeling of manic excitement could confiscate for the treacherous emotions held back inside of Adeline's mind. But it didn't take long for it all to come back to her. The door locking into place with her mother's cold eyes staring into her seldom heart, and his aggressive hold on her thighs and arms as he made himself at home inside of Adeline. The feeling of loneliness began settling in her stomach along with the food, and Adeline wanted it out.
    Staggering to the quaking bathroom, she held back her tears in fear of waking up her mother. Tension blemished her cheekbones and stiffened her neck as she opened the yellowing and rusted toilet seat. Reaching into the sink cabinet for soap, she shoved the bar down her throat as far as it could go. She cried and cried, feeling the world slip away as she threw up her problems and emotions into the stark toilet bowl. It wasn't pretty, but it was all that she knew.
    Adeline Finch fell back against the peeling walls, folding her legs against her chest and staring into space. Feeling her skull tilt towards the ceiling, her lips shook in heavy despair. Her knuckles were becoming swollen and red as she wiped away the saliva curtling from her lips, feeling the stark emptiness of her body. Her lungs cried for air and nourishment, but were instead met with burning acid reflux and an inability to quiet her sobbing. She was exhausted. Her body was exhausted. Her mind was exhausted. So she fell asleep right then and there, with the toilet filled with vomit and her face covered in sticky tears, snot and saliva.
She rested in her misery like a canoe riding a bubbling volcanic ridge.