Handcuffed

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

My mother was on her way here.  Right now.  She would hurt me like before but most likely, she would do worse damage to me more so than before.  I ran away from home.  I don't want to imagine what she will do to me considering I usually receive a slap across the face for just talking back to her.  No, I went way overboard now.  I sometimes thought that maybe I did a good thing for her.  She hated me so I figured that she would be happy after I left.  But I also know that it must have caused her a lot of problems too.  Like with the bills and attention (though I knew she secretly loved the attention even if it was inconvenient). 

So as of now, I wasn't sure what her reaction would be at seeing me.  My guess was a rough beating.  But I knew that all I had to do was get through that, then I would be gone later tomorrow night.  I could handle one rough beating or whatever it would be until tomorrow.  Because tomorrow night, I was running away again.  Somehow, I needed to.  Living on the streets again would be better than another year in that house with her before I'm 18.

But even though it was just another day then I'm gone, I was still terrified.  Because from now to tomorrow night, a lot could happen.  A lot could happen to me and I didn't know what would.  I was tough; I was a fighter and I fought against her.  But I knew taking a beating would be easier than putting up a fight that could make it worse.  After all, one beating.  I could take it.   

After the girl left and it was just Luke and I again, he gave me a sympathetic look.  I don't know why either but he looked sorry.  Maybe he saw how much I despised the thought of going home.  Or maybe even my slight fear, but I doubt I showed it clear enough on my face.

"Well, I think we are done here anyway," he said, closing the folder.  He then looked up to me and when he did, his expression changed.  His eyebrows stitched together, his eyes meeting mine and he gave me an understanding look.  The officer pursed his lips, appearing as if he wanted to say something still.

At first, I wondered why he had that expression and wanted to say something until I realized what I was doing.  Realized why he was looking at me like that.  From where I was sitting, I looked down at my hands that rested in my lap.  They were shaking.  My whole body was from fear and I could hear my breath was erratic.  Noticing this, I looked back up at him as he observed my frightened state.  I was scared.  I just tried telling myself it wouldn't be that bad.  After all, I took so much of that shit before.  I can handle whatever else she throws at me.  I was just maybe a little rusty after a year of being beaten-free on the streets.   

"What?" I asked, sharply, not liking that he was still here and looking at me like that when I glanced back up at him.

He sighed, tucking the folder under his arm before he raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes still on mine.  "I know what you think," he said.  "You think that your mother will take you home and beat you again like you claimed.  And I'm sure you are not lying; because you honestly believe that will happen.  That's how you are just confused.  You don't understand what is happening around you and don't realize that your mind is playing tricks on you.  I'm sure your mother loves you and doesn't do those things to you.  And I know that you believe she does but it's because to you, that is the truth.  You really believe it.  But try to see that you are just... tricking yourself into thinking sh--"

I laughed and when I did, he stopped speaking.  That's what everyone thinks in the end.  That I'm insane - even he does as he just reveled.  Even though he doesn't think like everyone else does, he still believes that I'm imagining my mother abusing me.  He's not accusing me of lying because he knows that I really do believe she does that to me.  And he's right.  I do believe that - because that is what happens to me.  She beats me.  He was wrong about the part of me imagining it.