I closed my locker for the last time this year. Shakily, I said good bye to my friends- oh yeah, right. I don't have any. Instead, I ran to my favorite teacher, Ms. Morgan's, classroom. Through all my faults, she had loved me since 6th grade, when I was this sliced up, bruised, frail little 12 year old. She was sort of like the mother I wished I had. Like a best friend. "Bye, Ms. Morgan," I cried into her shoulder, "see you in fall." She hugged me tight before we had to part. When we did, I burst through the heavy blue doors I had a love-hate relationship with. Benjamin Franklin Middle and High School, while my hell, was also my haven.
I boarded the bus that would take me home- the place I hated the most. Whenever I got home, my mother would beat me- her way of saying "Hi, oh how much I missed you- NOT, you little bitch!" and get ready to sell her body on the streets. She left at about 6 pm, making the hour long drive to the city, and leaving me home to scavange the house for any scraps of food. While I was home feeling mostly depressed and suicidal, she was out fucking any man (or occasional woman) who decided they would like to use my mother as a sex doll.
Oh, and we had a dirty little secret. This secret had a name- Jade. Jade is my little sister- illegal little sister. Meaning as far as we know, the US Government has no idea Jade Loveman even exists. It made sense, I suppose- from the moment of her birth, Jade had basically been my child. Mom stayed away from hospital for fear of her filthy way of life being discovered. So, she called upon the help of some friends in birthing my sister, and paid her no attention afterwards. Jade was like me- just another popped condom the meds couldn't kill.
The bus stopped on the corner of Ginger and Church streets- Ginger was my street. I could feel almost everyone glaring at my sliced up arm, but I had grown used to it. Everyone in my neighborhood was peppy and judgemental- the concequences of being the poor girl in a rich-bitch neighborhood. I had loved it here when Grammy was still alive- when our house (at that point it was only Grammy's house) was still nice, I was only the smallest tad bullied, and I actually *gasp* had friends. I was still abused at home, but I practically lived at Grammy's. It was only when Grammy died at my young age of 9 when things went downhill. I was abused and bullied ten times more, and found a replacement Grammy- self harm. I developed anorexia a year later. I lost my friends- my world went to shit.
Eventually, I made my way to the shithole I called home. I guess you could say it kind of looked like the house on the cover of Collide With the Sky- obviously it had been a very nice house, but it was wrecked now. I opened the front door and, lucky for me, my mom seemed to be getting ready already. I put my bag in the back room, and ran upstairs to my room. Looking inside, I saw Jade passed out on our "bed". It was just some old, unfitting clothes with a sheet and blankets. Mom's profits couldn't afford a matress for us, so I made this. I sat next to Jade and shook her shoulder. I hated to wake her up, but I really wanted to see her. "Hey Melody!" she exclaimed, and tackled me in a sleepy hug. She pronounced my name "Melowdy" and it was so cute."Hey lil girl. Mommy treat you okay today?" She shrugged. "Okay. I didnt eat, though," she frowned. "Lets go fix that," I smiled.
Jade munched down on the stew I prepared. It was a mix of anything I could find- which was basically chicken, "broth", and any carrot I could salvage. She ate it like a five star dinner, though. I had the tiniest bit, to be a good role model. I hated food. "Where are ya, brats?!?" my mom demanded. "Oh no, here she comes," Jade whimpered. She abandoned her stew and dove into my arms. "There you are," my mom hissed. She grabbed Jade out of my arms, and held her up against the wall "You afraid, ya little pussy?" she growled. Jade just looked down, eyes full of tears, and cried, "M-melody, help..." I hated my mom because of this. I didn't care when she beat me half to death, but I hated when she touched the girl that was practically my child. "Get OFF of her!" I screamed, adrenaline pumping through my veins. And for the first time ever, I hit my mother. I was stronger than I thought, getting Jade down easily and pinning my mother to the ground. I hit her repeatedly in the face, while shouting "Jade, get upstairs, baby." I hit my mother until I realized she was passed out. "No regrets," I whispered, "no regrets."
