Bit of a push

Chapter 8

This chapter is when ALOT of stuff happens, and I hope y'all like it!! Thanks. And I'm starting a new story right now... It'll be up in about a week. ;-) thanks xoxox 

Mackenzie

I left my training bag back at the gym before returning home. Most kids who got first prize would be bouncing off the wall in glory. Me? I kept the huge trophy in my bag, pretending it didn’t exist. I’d also rubbed off any excess sweat in my third shower at the gym. I took no chances with my parents. If they knew what makes me happy, they’d ground me for it before I could say ‘I won’.

 “Mackenzie?” My mother called from the kitchen. I sighed as I stumbled my way into her. I pulled my long sleeves down, covering the tips of my scars. She was working over a hot stove, the aroma of chicken stu wandering into my nose. 

“I’m making your favourite. How’d it go?” She said in a singsong voice.

I sighed and put my hands into my jean pockets. I hated disappointing my mother, let alone lie to her.

I formed my lips into a flat line. “I didn’t get it.”

Her body tensed before she turned around and placed her hands on her hips.

“Mackenzie, this is unacceptable. You’ve been going to these things for three years and you’ve never gotten a first. Or second. Or even third.”

“What do you want me to do about it? I’m just not that smart! What do you expect me to do?”

“I think you should go upstairs and hit those books. Mackenzie, my expectations of you are high. You’re grades are perfect from what the principal says. You have the best grades in your year level, and you can’t even win a community-based spelling bee. I’m not going to take any chances with you, honey. Go.” Her little speech was like a knife slashing through my chest. Making my insides bleed with the unimaginable pain of my mothers disappointment.

She told me once that she’d always love to have a smart daughter. Not the girl I was when I was younger… when I didn’t have cuts on my wrists… when I was with Dan. 

She went back to her cooking, pretending like I didn’t exist. Again my mother thinking my existence wasn’t necessary for her. She’d prefer, like everybody else, to create me as something I’m not. A smart daughter.

My body froze, unable to attempt the assault my mother just put against me. Strong fingers squeezed my arm. I turned to see Dylan looking down at me in sympathy and sadness. I eyes were beginning to water as I looked up at him. He pulled me up the stairs to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. The urgency in his actions had me concerned.

“How did you go?” He whispered.

I smiled, my heart rising. Someone did know. “I won.”

His body relaxed and his smile widened. “Mackenzie, that’s great!” He said and he hugged me. I laughed and lifted my feet off the floor, just for him to swing me around his body. My laugh didn’t sound like something I had. It felt too real. It felt too happy. Happiness means sprit. And my spirit has been gone since the first day of high school. 

When he put me back down on my feet, his beam on me made me flutter into the heavens.

“I’m so proud of you Mackenzie. Don’t let mum let you give up because you’re an awesome boxer. The best I’ve seen. Remember that.” If I didn’t have Dylan’s assuring words, I wouldn’t have been mentally stable. My thoughts would be developed into something, which is horrifying.