I was a Mistake

Playground Trouble

Momma and Carl beat me badly after Mrs. Winters came to ask if I could spend nights and vacation with their family. It wasn't because of Mrs. Winters, although she didn't exactly help. They hated my excited smile after they agreed to let me stay the night. They focused on my bottom mostly, beating me with a belt and yelling over the video games my brother played right next to us. He didn't even flinch each time they swatted me and I held my breath to keep the noises in, just told them to quiet down so he could hear the music.

I went to bed with my bottom numb and tingly, but when I woke up, I felt each movement like a punch. I struggled to walk up the stairs and into the car that waited for me. I didn't let on that I was in pain and hoped that Noah, the boy who knew me inside and out, didn't see right through my act. I acted the way I always did and aside from the looks Noah kept sending me, nobody noticed.

I don't know why I didn't want the Winters to have proof Momma and Carl beat me. I guess I didn't want to show them how weak I was. I was embarrassed that my family wasn't as loving as the Winters. The boys were like my brothers, aside from Noah, whom I secretly had a crush on. They made my life feel normal and treated me like their family.

Ezekiel sat in the front seat going on about how excited he was for his date that night. Ezekiel was my oldest brother-like figure and was very protective of me. He made sure that all of the boys treated me right and when they didn't, he taught them a lesson using various acts of brotherly torture. I was comfortable around him, always eager to make him laugh or smile. He had the best laugh. He would be graduating at the end of the year and we'd all miss him, but I think I would miss him the most. He was what brothers were supposed to be like.

Isaiah sat beside me in the SUV and I could see the subtle changes in him that seemed to have happened overnight. He was in eighth grade and school seemed to have altered him. He had changed his style, going for a more grown up, bad-boy feel, and he styled his hair in such a way, I barely recognized him. His face had become more angled and his forehead was dotted with pimples. But Isaiah's appearance wasn't the trait that worried the Winters. His attitude has changed him into almost an entirely different person. He picked on Noah and I relentlessly, pushing us around and calling us names. He brought friends, mostly girls, to the house that were rude and disrespectful. He even yelled at his parents on a daily basis.

Isaiah was protective of me too, especially when the twins talked about me in class, but I wasn't as close to him as I was the rest of the family. I wanted to be, but Isaiah seemed to always keep me at arm's length. He even treated his mother as if she was a stranger.

Joseph was going through his "awkward stage" as Mrs. Winters liked to call it. His brothers teased him all the time about his glasses and big belly and he had become very self-conscious of his looks. I wanted to tell him he looked fine and not to listen to their words, but I was still very incapable of talking. I had, however, learned not to fear to touch the Winters as much and would pat his back, as reassuring as my trepidation would let me be.

Noah, of course, was as loud, charming, handsome, and cheerful as ever. As such, everyone wanted to be his friend and nobody wanted me to be included. My classmates, girls and boys alike, competed for his attention and his southern-grown manners required that he be kind and share his time with them. However, they learned quickly that any jabs in my direction turned Noah into an entirely different person.

I knew from the start that none of my classmates liked me. I took too much of Noah's attention and they felt like I didn't deserve it. I agreed with them, I was useless and unwanted, my own family could never let me forget. But Noah wouldn't tolerate any rude comments and had been disciplined plenty of times from fighting on my behalf.

My pain had escalated throughout the day, my bottom aching at every slight movement. Momma and Carl were ruthless and had become brave with their abuse, thinking I'd never be able to tattle on them. I knew that I could not play at recess, so I walked directly to the bench on the playground. Noah followed like a dutiful best friend.