Liv
3000 songs ago
Years have passed since that fateful day, yet I do not possess the ability to to erase those unfortunate events from my mind. As much as I would have liked to dwell on the past, life wouldn't let me.
Even mum had decided to 'forget' the events that made her become the way she became. A way I prayed she would never become again. A monster. The day after disaster struck, mum strolled down the creaking stairs as if nothing had ever happened and everything was completely normal. How I wish I could forget but to my dismay, I'm not so lucky.
As hard as I tried, those events were always the cause for my nightmares and sleepless nights spent staring out of the window ; regardless of what the doctors and therapists said. It scarred me. Permanently.
But, as they say, life went on. To everyone else, I was just a troubled girl that desperately sought attention but whilst other children were getting tucked into bed at night after having been read a bedtime story, I was performing frivolous rituals as a way of making the nights remain harmless to my mind. If only they knew. As soon as people saw me, they judged me. They couldn't help it. Let's just say, with charcoal grey eyes (inherited from my mother), forever dishevelled, curly black hair and the thickest rimmed spectacles a man could possibly have, I was far from ordinary. If anything, I probably would have judged me too.
The thing is, the small town of Azberg was indeed very small, and so, everyone always knew what everyone else was doing. My parents were already thought of as outcasts due to having me before marriage. The people of the village were also ridiculously religious and nearly everything you could think of was considered to be a sin and 'an act against god' so father John had said on a visit at the school.
Mum never went to church. She said, if they already thought of us as dirt, why let them degrade us even more? Idiots! That's what nanna used to call them. Then again, she wasn't a very religious gal either. Nanna was a very relaxed woman, who just didn't care about the crowd. Whilst everyone else wore the nicest, most expensive clothes, nanna was fine with something from the charity shop down the road. That's what I admired about her most, my nanna. She was different.
She would always tell me that I was special. I'd tell her to stop having a laugh and take a good look at me. She'd just laugh! That was my nanna, never one to judge. Eventually, she picked up and left. I don't blame her to be honest. She found a fork in the road and took it. If only i could have been that lucky.
That gave the town a good old time at the church gossiping about what happened. That was another good thing about nanna. She never gossiped about anyone which was also another reason why she was considered to be an outcast. When all the other women would slander off the latest residence in the villages, nanna would just sit their quietly minding her own business. When she was asked for her opinion on the matter, she simply nodded and smiled.They especially didn't like that. Her main motto in life was to 'live and let live' and whenever she'd say it, it would automatically put a big, bright smile on my face.
After nanna left, I felt like I had lost another piece of me. I was in pain constantly and there was no cure in the world that could fix me. After nanna left, I did the most sensible thing anyone in my situation could do. Become engrossed and obsessed with something. People grieve for their loved ones in different ways and my strategy was fully involving myself in school. At first, it was the best thing in the world. Soon after though, the bullying started.
Martin Fisher, another reason for the cause of my nightmares. At first, it was pretty harmless. A bit of name calling, a bit of other verbal abuse but then it got worse. Fisher would wait for me with his 'crew' so he like to call it, before and after school. Any chance he got to make my life a living hell, he certainly took it. I tried to tell mum, so many times, but she just kept on shrugging me off.
To my utter dismay, everyone loved Martin. He was your typical, sly trouble maker. In front of the parents, he would act as innocent as an angel, all sweet and polite. "Can I help you with this? Here, let me help you with those madam!" but as soon as he was alone, he was the reincarnation of the devil. His 'friends' were exactly the same. The only reason they sided with him was because they were terrified of being in my place. What a bunch of losers. Tommy, the newest member of the Azberg crew used to be my best friend. He was like a brother. We grew up together.
We used to play together every single day and we were always there for each other. Whatever happened, he always had my back and I his, but then things started to change. Fisher took an interest in him and soon, tommy, now known as 'T-dawg', became second in command of the crew.
After Tommy, or 'T-dawg', I never had any real friends. Not really. I talked to a few people. Sarah, the librarian, Stu, the comic book store guy but I wouldn't exactly call them friends. Mum didn't care.
At the time, she had gotten a new boyfriend. Steve. He was alright to be honest, much better than the others. He bought me gifts sometimes. A chain, a teddy bear, a nice new pen and diary but the way he looked at me, the way his hands lingered on mine for longer than they needed to, it wasn't right. Once, when mum was completely wasted, Steve bought her back and after having tucked her in, came to my room.
As I heard the footsteps approach my door, I shut my eyes and tried to steady my breathing to normal so he wouldn't know that I was awake. He came and just stood there for a few moments. Having been in a rush to get in bed undetected, I had forgot to put my duvet over me and so, had my short, stumpy legs exposed because of my really short shorts. The short top I was wearing didn't do me any justice either. I heard more footsteps and just as I thought he was going to go away, he came closer. He sat on the end of the bed. At this moment, my heart was in my hand. Mum was out of her mind and would never help me. I was on my own. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my ankle and it was slowly, swiftly, moving up my leg. I wanted to be sick but then he would have known I was awake. He let go. I thought he was going to leave but then, he stood up and came closer.
I thought the worst was over but then I could feel breathing on my face. Although my eyes were closed, I could feel a hand coming into contact with my bare neck. I shot up and screamed. I screamed so hard my throat became sore instantly. I tried to run but Steve was too quick. He scooped me up in one swift motion and gripped onto me tightly. I tried to scream again but he quickly clamped my mouth shut with his large, orangatun hands.
I bit on them, both a salty and sweaty taste invading my mouth. He suddenly pulled on my hair so to shut me up but it only made me scream even more. The pain was simply excruciating. Before I could do anything else a cold sensation filled my head. I shifted it at an angle slightly, only to realise that I had been hit in the head with a baseball bat. Where had he even gotten that from? As I drifted into an unconscious state, I remember hearing the words " No one will believe you so don't even think about telling anyone what happened"! The blood stained my carpet.
I awoke the next morning and found it highly unusual that I was laying on the floor but as I looked at my now blood stained clothes, the events of the night before came back. I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I rushed into the bathroom and stopped immediately. There was no hot water but I didn't care. Scrubbing myself so hard that my skin became red, I recalled all the things Steve had said. I was a dirty little mistake. That was what he had said. "Mistakes have mistakes and keep the line flowing, otherwise there would be no mistakes in this world and life would be perfect. Which it is not, so we need whores like you to do your job".
I rushed into the living room to see if Steve was still here but by the looks of things, he was gone. Just at that moment, mum came rushing in. " You dirty, little slut!" she screamed. I had no idea what she was talking about but then, it hit me. Steve. He had gotten here first and by the looks of things, had twisted mum against me. My own mum. In her hand, she held a letter. It read:
Dear Stacey,
I am soo sorry babe. You were pretty drunk last night so I thort it
was best to leave you home. I tucked you into bed and was gonna
leave but then, Liv came and attacked me. She tried to kiss me, telling me that you were bad but I didn't listen to her. I quickly pushed her away and ran. Im sorry but I can't do this. Bye. Love ya.
Steve XOXO
I gasped, covering my mouth with the palm of my hand. The letter dropped, lifelessly to the ground and I followed. I collapsed beside the sofa and looked at mum. Tears filled with the remains of her mascara from last night ran down her pale cheeks as she sobbed heavily. As I was about to speak, she left, only to return a few seconds later with a bottle of alcohol in her hand. She seemed to be in her own world and so, I took the opportunity to get away. I ran up the creaking stairs, and entered my room.
As I looked at the newly blood stained carpet, the memories started flooding back in. I grabbed my grubby rucksack and started filling the inside with the most important things I owned. There wasn't much though. A change of clothes, a comb, a blanket, my phone. I checked on mum to see if she was still sat where I had left her.
On seeing her passed out onto the floor, cradling an empty bottle of vodka, I left, hoping to never return again. As I approached, the old, oak door, it towered above me as if it were a guard of hell, never letting anyone leave once they had gotten in. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of freshly laid tarmac wafted up my nose as the sound of the speedy traffic invaded my ears. I shut the door and started walking at a brisk pace, never looking back.
