(I Just) Died In Your Arms ~ Stanley Uris

019

Julia's POV

Love Will Tear Us Apart was blasting in my room, standing in front of a stand up mirror I recently acquired. I was holding up two dresses, one yellow, one pink, deciding which one I should wear to Cynthia's outing in our clubhouse.

I had already curled my hair so my waves were more prominent, my thick hair spreading over my shoulders like a blanket.

I chose the yellow one, even though I wore it all the time. I needed to look nice for this party, even with Greta's voice constantly echoing in my mind, no matter how much I fought it back.

The dress fit tighter than it did last time, and it was much shorter since I had grown an inch or two over summer, most of that growth being in my lower half. Even though I knew that the ruthlessness of puberty was to blame, a small part of me was telling me to lose some weight.

Out of my minimal amount of shoes, I picked out a familiar pair of silver heels, the type that made me feel like Cinderella, even though they were not made of glass.

I examined myself in the mirror one last time, adjusting the straps of my dress and fluffing up my hair, trying to make myself look presentable for the group of losers I was so fond of. They wouldn't care, but I wanted to look better for them, just so it doesn't look like I have fallen through the cracks.

What does it matter? I'm incomparable to Cynthia and Beverly. Their beauty was to die for, especially when their eyes were so entrancing and pulled you right in, enchanting you with their amorousness. Might as well wear a sweatshirt and jeans.

The door to my room was suddenly kicked down, to reveal my dad standing there, seething with unimaginable anger. I shut off my music, because I knew things were about to get ugly. I didn't know what I did to anger him, but his skin was bright red, his glare sucking all joy I felt for this stupid party.

"What are you doing all prettied up?" He asked, surprisingly calm, even though his fists at his sides and just the look on his face told otherwise. I didn't know how to answer him, staring at him blankly, waiting for what I already knew was about to come.

"Just for fun." I said under my breath, almost inaudible to him. I hung my head, preparing the strength I would need to pull him off me and retreat to the party, feeling safe with Cynthia's presence.

"Just for fun? Sleeping with boys aren't you?" He growled, his heavy footsteps marching on the floor to the beat of a drum, the walls of my room shaking.

"No." I replied simply, my eyes fixated on the one floor board in my room that was sticking up slightly, wishing for him to just turn the other direction, and to leave his only daughter alone.

He lunged towards me, throwing the weight of his body onto me and on top of the loose floor board, shooting pain up my spine.

"How dare you fucking lie to me?!" He screamed inches away from my face, spit splattering on my cheeks. I winced in my pain, closing my eyes for a second to force myself not to cry. "What kind of slut do you think you are? Do you know what sluts get?!"

His hands ran up my skirt and onto the inside of my thighs, nearing too close to my crotch. I started to kick, disturbed by the unlawful intentions of his grabs, which grabbed me everywhere that made me a girl. No matter how much I squirmed, he still touched me everywhere, as if he enjoyed seeing me scream.

Birds. Think of the birds. Think of the birds flying high in the clouds, their wings scooping up the thick puffy clouds, their beaks open and crying out for each other.

His forearm pushed up my throat, the buckle of his belt becoming undone. Just kill me now. Get it over with and kill me. His hands were around his silver belt buckle, and once again, I was seconds away from being molested.