Julia Crow

ONE

Despite the hot weather and the shining sun, she wore a sleeved shirt. With a long black jacket over. She let her hair fall around her face, straight, black and it hung at the small of her back. She observed herself in the mirror, forcing herself to look. She always hated looking, which she saw looking back at her was disgusting. Pathetic. She let out a soft sigh and carefully opened her door. The old wooden door creaked, as it always did every morning. Whether or not it woke him up was always a hit or miss. She stood frozen at her doorway, her breath trembling, and her heart beating like the wings of a small bird.

Please she thought to herself. Still there was silence. She knew though, silence never meant safety. Silence means he is awake, waiting for her to cross his path. Though only seconds passed it seemed like a lifetime as she waited for something. Nothing came, and she knew she had to go. A small whimper left her lips as she stepped forward. The door was just in front of her. Cross the living room, open the door and you are safe. She told herself this over and over until she took another step.

As she entered the living room, she saw it. He was standing there, like a wraith. A small smile curled on his lips, she cried out in despair causing him to smile even broader. She tried to sprint for the door but he caught her, slamming her into the wall and pinning her in place.

"Oh, Julia.

Where are you going in such a hurry?"

He hissed in her ear, breathing deeply on her neck.

"School, I have to go to school." She said weakly, closing her eyes and tensing her body. She felt the hand sliding up her leg.

"Please."

"You were really going to leave without telling me a good morning.

Come on now. You know better." His hand creeped up her shirt as he continued to breath heavily on her neck.

"Look at me and tell me good morning, Julia— no, no." He said grabbing her jaw and wrenching her face upward so her eyes were inline with his. She tried to pass off looking at his chin. He, however, forced her to meet his eyes. As she looked into them, she felt a chill down her spine as if someone had poured ice down it.

"Good morning, Dad." She said, knowing full well that he was not going to let her go easy. He smiled broadly, showing all of his teeth. She felt his hand steadily creep up to her neck and clamp firmly. She gasped for breath.

"Good morning, Julia." He whispered, menace dripping from his voice.

The first bell of the day rang just as Julia limped to her seat. As her abdomen twisted in pain, she grimaced and pulled a textbook out and opened it to the page reflected on the board behind the teacher. Then slid her headphones in hiding them under her hair. Ignoring the teacher's lecture entirely she read the chapter they were studying on her own, allowing herself to completely be absorbed in the dry text on The Great Depression of the 1930s, trying as hard as she could to not think about the horror she endured this morning, or the searing pain between her legs, or the fact her breath came out raspy. She stayed in this state for the entire class period until in her peripheral vision she saw her classmates packing their things away for the next class. She slowly packed her own books away, making sure she was the last one out of the room, except for the teacher who never took any notice of her anyway. It was a strange silent agreement she had with most of her teachers, she read on her own, did her homework, took her tests and always worked alone for group projects. Though it did not stop her teachers from watching her leave, great pity and sadness in their face as they tried to understand her complete solitude.

Julia walked briskly to each class never looking up, never slowing down. Her music canceled all sound out so that no noise from the outside world could tempt her into interacting with anyone. This is how she had always been, the same routine everyday. After her first half of the day was done, she read her books alone outside of the cafeteria, never eating in front of people. Her classmates used to sit beside her and attempt to strike conversation, but were met with only an emotionless gaze from her yellow eyes. Eventually, no one tried to join her anymore. Nobody invited her to parties anymore, and no one even bothered to bully her anymore. She used to receive daily bullying for her black attire, her lack of make up, her quietness. Only she never acknowledged them, even when they hit her. She was completely numb. The truth was, she felt it. Felt the pain, but there was nothing that the bullies could ever do to her that would hurt more physically or emotionally, then what she went home to every single night.