Lilly In The Storm

Prologue

       It was toward the beginning of May and I began to feel sweat fall from my forehead in the Milwaukee, second grade classroom, the first summer temperatures this year. Mommy said to never take off my sweater in public. She said people will bully me for the bruises she's left on my arms and the rest of my body, so I never take it off. People bully me enough for being shy, why would I risk giving them something new to pick on me for? My heart skips a beat when I hear the bell indicating the end of the day. I walked out slowly in fear that when I walked out the door toward the car she'd tell me I've done something wrong again, something she could hit or kick me for.

       I sat down on a bench where a kid from my class, Ben, was sitting next to me. Standing next to the bench was his father. They lived down our street, they're good people. Ben has always been my friend despite me getting picked on for my shyness. In reaction to him hanging out with me, the kids who teased me had started teasing him as well. Against all odds, he continued to talk to me and play with me at recess.

       The sweat welled up in my armpits and came down my face. I was wearing a T-shirt underneath so it shouldn't be the end of the world to take my sweater off. It became too much to bear. Cautiously, I remove my sweater and in the relief of taking it off I almost forget why I always wear it to begin with. I looked in the direction of Ben's dad as his jaw drops and his eyes widen. I get anxious while my hands fumble to get the sweater back on, before he finds out the truth. Ben looked up at his father as well, confused as to why his dad was so shocked.

       "Lilly, where did all these bruises come from?" He asks in a very concerned tone, more seriously than he's ever spoke to me. Usually he talks to me in that cutesy voice all adults have when speaking to kids, but not this time.

       "Um-" Before I could answer mommy comes running over to the three of us as she does every day.

       "Hey honey, are you ready to go home?" She asks in an almost motherly voice, not even looking at Ben or his father. Not looking people in the eye makes it easier for her to fake it, she does it when she tells me she loves me.

       "Yeah." I whisper facing toward the ground in fear.

       Ben's father clears his throat. "Excuse me."

       "Yes?" Mom answers with obvious impatience in her voice. She releases my hand to place hers on her hip.

       "Would you like to explain to me why your daughter is covered head to toe with bruises?" He asks. Her eyes narrow in response to his accusations.

       I get more nervous with each word that is exchanged, nobody has ever confronted my mom. She's just so good at hiding her wrong doings that nobody has discovered them. I worry that she'll hurt him for this, I would hate to inflict pain on the only people who cared for me in this lonely life. Then Ben would hate me for sure, I'd be all alone.

       Mom grabs my hand violently. "Actually, she fell down the stairs." She lies through her yellow stained teeth.

       Before Ben's father could answer, Mom is dragging me away by the wrist. He attempts to follow us to the car, but she is just too fast. She orders me to get in the back of the car and she hops in the front. She slams the car door and begins to speed down the street away from the school. In the quick moments as we exited the school parking lot, I could see a frown plastered on the face of Ben's dad. I turn my attention back to Mom's more furious facial features. She breathes heavily as she drives. She is often in a bad mood when she comes to get me from school, this situation has simply amplified her daily anger. My reaction is usually to keep quiet, then she'll have nothing to pin against me or scream at me for.