I remember mom teaching me about money and saving and bills; she always told me to save as much money as possible, so you're never left in a bad spot. She struggled to pay all our bills, so she worked two jobs and was tired a lot, but she said she'd do anything for me. I want to be like my mom, so that means I need to do anything for me too. She’d hate this. I just know it. Maybe I could find my dad? Maybe there is a way to figure out who he is. Although, I don’t even know how I would go about that. I just feel like he can’t also be a horrible person. Right? Everything is so confusing, and I feel like I am never going to truly know who I can trust from now on.
I need to find a way to get money first. Maybe I can find a way to get some from Mother or something, but that’s doubtful. Ugh, this is going to be impossible.
After I finish in the bathroom, I go to look at the clothes Mother brought down. I've spent the last three years only wearing the same worn-down sweatshirt, two shirts, and one pair of jeans, but now I've been given four sweatshirts, all appearing to have been used by Mother and Tabby, two pairs of Mother’s old jeans, a pair of leggings and a pair of old blue Converse shoes. I also now have two oversized plain t-shirts. I'm guessing they belonged to Father. They are way too big, but I think I can work them if I use my one hair tie to tie the end together in the front.
But I only have one, so then I'd have to keep my hair down, which with it having been who knows how many years since getting it cut last, it's now longer than it's ever been, falling to my butt in thick copper waves.
I remember I need to wash my underwear; I only have three pairs, and I'm not given access to the washer and dryer, so I've been hand washing them down here. I get up to wash them so they have time to dry. Once I'm done, I organize all the clothes I now own on the floor at the end of my bed. I don't have any bras because they haven't given me any, which is okay because I have small boobs so it's not like I need any.
Once I get everything set up the best I can since I don't have a closet or dresser, I decide to wash my hair. I only have one bottle of shampoo. It's about half gone and I have no idea when they will give me more, but it's been a while since I washed my hair last, and I want it to look nice for school since this'll be the second time in three years I'm leaving this house! I'm terrified but also a little excited. I used to love school. I hope I still do.
The next morning, I'm up at sunrise. I have no idea what time it is, but I can see the sun rising through the small, barred window down here. I quickly wash myself in the shower and then get dressed for the day the best I can.
With my ankle cuff on, I can't change my pants yet. But when I shower, I pull them down and leave them around the chain so I can shower without getting them wet. I leave clean underwear and a pair of jeans on my bed while I wait for someone to come down and get me. I'm wearing a black plain hoodie today with light blue jeans with holes.
What feels like hours later, the door to the basement opens and Mother comes down the stairs, taking off the cuff and watching me as I change my pants and underwear. Once I'm done, I put on my Converse and look at her.
She smiles, but it's not a warm, welcoming smile. No, it's sinister. “Speak,” she says.
I try to speak, but barely anything comes out, and it hurts really bad. I tested my voice early this morning, I can talk, but it burns, and I just end up coughing. I really hope whatever she gave me doesn't do permanent damage.
She nods, pleased. “Good. I shouldn't need to remind you of what can happen if you disobey any rules today.”
I nod. Mother turns around and goes back upstairs. I follow slowly behind her.
She tosses an old backpack at me and then takes me outside, handing me a piece of paper with what looks like an address on it. “This is our address. Memorize it. The bus will pick you up at the end of the driveway. Off you go. Remember, come straight back here after. Do not miss the bus.”
I nod and take off towards the end of the driveway, which is longer than I remember it being, not that I've been out here much. It doesn't look like any neighbors are close to our house, not that I can see too far since we are surrounded by trees.
By the time I'm at the end, I'm breathing heavily. It's been three years of barely any movement and plenty of beatings. My body is tired. This is going to be harder than I thought it would be, especially if I'm already winded. I don't know where Tabby is or why she isn't with me. Wouldn't she be in school too? I wait by the mailbox that is right by the road for the bus. This road is pretty isolated. No other cars are going by, and it’s mostly woods all around. I can see the start of someone else's driveway across the street and to the right a little, but I don't see any other kids out waiting for the bus.
When the bus finally pulls up the driver opens the door, and I take a deep breath. I can do this. I walk up the steps and find a seat. There are only three other students on right now, so I take a seat towards the middle of the bus and slide in to sit by the window. As we keep moving, I can see more clearly that we are farther out from town and the neighbors are all spread out with lots of woods in between and long driveways. You can barely see some of the houses. The driveways are so long.
What feels like maybe five minutes go by before we are around more houses. It looks like a normal neighborhood, kind of like what I was used to living in with mom. The houses are closer together, and there are groups of kids waiting in random spots throughout for the bus.
The bus makes its way through a few neighborhoods and quickly fills up. Luckily, no one sits by me, which helps me breathe easier. I am a little nervous about being around a lot of people now. I am not sure how to act around others anymore. Especially since I haven't been around kids my age in a few years. The bus soon makes its way into a larger part of the town where there are less houses and more businesses and shops.
When we arrive at the high school, I follow everyone else off the bus and realize I am not sure what to do. I look around at the large parking lot, at the end where the main road is. There are large trees that block it off so you can’t see much past the road. The school itself is two stories tall, and I am standing in front of large double doors that students are walking into. I follow them in and luckily see signs pointing to restrooms on the left and the office on the right.
I follow the sign around the corner to the office. There are large windows looking in with a glass door in the middle. When I head inside, there are chairs along the walls and a large front desk with a hall on either side of it that looks to lead back towards offices.
There is a very beautiful blonde sitting behind the desk bating her fake lashes at the tall man standing in front of her with his back to me. When she sees me, she looks me over and rolls her eyes, seemingly annoyed I'm distracting her from the guy she was trying to talk to.
Honestly, he doesn’t seem that interested. He's pretty tense right now. If I can see that, why can't she? I'm the one who's been locked away for three fucking years.
The lady asks what I need, and I watch as she examines my face. A look of disgust as her eyes land on my scar. I feel my face heat with embarrassment. I already hate my scar as it is. I hate that other people can see it so easily. I open my mouth only to feel that burn at the back of my throat and remember I'm supposed to be mute.
I grab a pen off the counter instead and try to signal with it that I need paper to write. She looks at me like I’m stupid before letting out an exasperated huff, “What do you need? Speak already.”
I roll my eyes. If I could, I would, lady. I zip my lips with my fingers then hold up the pen again. The lady sighs, then hands me a sticky note.
I quickly write my name and that I'm new and not sure what I need to do or where I need to go and hand it to her. She takes it then says hang on and walks away.
The guy she was talking to earlier is now standing at the side of the counter with his hard eyes trained on me. I glance up at him and get caught in his stare. His eyes… they are blue, the brightest blue I've ever seen. They have this gold shimmer to them that makes his irises look like blue fire. Then I realize I'm staring too long and quickly look down. The heat of his gaze bores into the side of my face as I try my hardest not to fidget. It feels like butterflies are in my stomach, and I so badly want to look back up at him.
Just as the office lady comes back to the desk with a man behind her, I hear a chuckle to my right where the guy was and when I glance over, he is walking away with a barely concealed smirk on his face.
The other guy who came with the office lady is the counselor. His name is Mr. Wright, an older gentleman with a clean-shaved face and mostly gray hair with square black glasses on his face. He gives me a warm smile. “Welcome to Jackson High. I have your schedule here and your locker number and combo to get into it. Here is a map of the school. I unfortunately don’t have anyone who can show you around right now. Our office admin, Mrs. Seagle, is out right now, which is why we have a student helping. But if you have any issues, come back here and I will help you.” He hands me the papers and wishes me luck.