Escape

- Chapter 5 -

“I thought your school ends at three o’clock,” Maggie states from the couch as I enter the house with keys in hand.

My steps halt before the stairs. “It ends at three-fifteen for juniors and seniors, Maggie.”

“Then how come its three-thirty now and you just got home? You think I’m stupid?”

I stare at her back as she watches TV on the couch. My hand start to tremble on the side railing that outline the old stairs. I feel wrong although she’s the one senseless. “It takes about fifteen minutes to walk home.”

“Listen, moron,” she calls threateningly, “you better get your ass home tomorrow by three-fifteen. I don't care if you suddenly grow angel wings or ask God to pick you up and throw you here, but you better be here by that time so I can go out."

Go out? Since when does Maggie go out?

“Where… where are you going?” I hesitantly inquire through major curiousity.

“I gotta' hit the gym. Signed up for it and now I'm going every day at any time.”

“Gym?” I echo in surprise.

“What are you? A parrot?”

“Why does the house need to be watched? If we lock the doors, no one will come in, Maggie. If that's what you're afraid of.”

“Don’t fucking question me, okay? I tell you to come home at three-fifteen, you come home at three-fifteen,” she blurts impatiently and rubs her forehead. “How friggin' annoying could you get?”

“I can’t; I don’t have money for taxi. You don’t want to give me a ride home and I have no choice but to walk home, but when I do walk home, you scream at me,” I reason through clenched teeth. I instantly regret myself when she caught my dirty glare.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me. Like that. Ever. Again. Fool."

I stare at the floor and I should’ve nodded in acknowledgement by now, but I didn’t and I don’t intend to. I don’t know why, but it just doesn’t feel right to nod, because this time, I know I’m not wrong. Well, at least I hope I'm not.

I wish my mom were here right now. She’d know what to do. She won’t let me emotionally cry like this.

“Don’t ignore me!”

Maggie pushes her large body off the couch. I nearly collapse under her glares – I should be used to this, but it’s disappointing to know that I’ll never be used to it. My feet are comepletely glued to the ground. I'm watching her take large steps around the couch to walk through the short distance that takes between us.

“I heard you, Maggie,” I say in defeat to my feelings. I watch her and snap a slight picture of sadness from the drop of water behind one of her eye. But when I blink, it’s gone like it was never there. She arranges her face to be yet, another glare that can kill just anyone. A swarm of confusion take over me and I start to wonder about that strange tear because Maggie never cries; then I wonder if what I saw was just my muddled mind playing with me.

Maggie's next words startle me, ending my thoughts.

“Remember your uncle, Darcy?” she asks, spitting out the mention of him.

I try to hold back a shudder, but seemingly fail. My aunt caught the tense so she places her heavy hand on my shoulder. I know it’s an attempt make me relax, but I don’t feel relaxed at all, at least not under her hold. I go back to her previous words and stiffen just like a brick - my aunt had called me by my name this time. Not a name-call, but my name-name.