Spinning

Spinning

A Story by Carramae
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Jenna tries to escape the pain by spinning. But no matter how much she spins, the world will always realign itself and the problem will still be there. Just another story of a broken teenager.

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Spinning

 

Spinning, spinning, spinning, making circles in the soil with my toes.  The world is a blur of colors, melting into each other like colored sand.  If I stop, I’m afraid I will go back to the familiar, and so I keep spinning, spinning, spinning, making circles with my toes.  My arms chase the air and I feel like I will lift off the ground like that Skydancer I once owned as a child.  His face, previously so clear in my mind--with his smiling eyes and pearly teeth--have become part of the grains of colored sand.  I’m happy, and yet tears collect and take off from the apples of my cheeks.

My stomach jumps and my head feels light.  I collapse on the grass and watch the dancing clouds with outspread arms.  I am dizzy, and squeezing my eyes shut only makes the dizziness worse.  And so I lie there in the grass, panting and watching the circling world.  As my vision struggles to align the sky, his face is coming back from the chaos.  He resurrects in my mind and his pearly whites hide behind his pink lips and his eyes stop smiling. 

“I need to talk to you,” he said to me. 

“Oh?”  I didn’t like the way the words came out and so I quickened my pace.  I listened as his footsteps got further away until the sound of them diminished completely.  The lack of sound disturbed me, and so I looked back.

His eyes stopped me.  I found myself stationed to the ground as he closed the distance between us.  “Jenna.”

I had always loved the way he said my name--the way he pushed the N’s out with the tip of his tongue.  But this time, there was no love in my name.  I knew it tasted foul in his mouth. 

He stopped in front of me with a sullen face.  “I saw you.  I saw you, Jenna.”

I turn on my side and watch as a cricket hops above the jungle of green.  I hold my stomach, which has gone back to its rightful place.  The red light reflecting against the side of my house looks pretty.  It’s spinning just as I was minutes before.  I close my eyes and I find that his face no longer haunts me.  And yet, I yearn to call him back--call him back before he comes.

“Jenna, come over here.” 

I ignored him and pretended to read my book. 

“What you got there?  Is that your English homework?” 

I could hear the chair scratch the floor and I responded with the turn of a page, putting the book closer to my face.  My skin prickled as he massaged my bare neck. 

“Never knew you to be one to study.” 

I hunched over and the old couch seemed like it wanted to swallow me whole.  He sat down beside me and the couch spat me back up.  I felt his arm snake around my shoulder and his eyes watching mine. 

“You must be bored.”

“No,” I finally managed to say.

He kissed me anyway, his body pressing me into the couch. 

No escape.

I find myself spinning again.  Spinning, spinning, spinning, making circles with my toes.  The world is new to me again, memories no longer decipherable in a sea of colors.  I might as well be a sprinkler now.  My eyes squeeze out salty tears that take off into the rain-kissed air.  Although my mind is dizzy with its surroundings, my heart drowns itself in sorrow.  I can’t trick my heart.  But I try, twirling faster and faster until I can no longer keep my balance.  I land on my stomach and my breath plays with the blades of grass.  He must’ve heard my plea.  He comes back, but his expression still foretells disaster. 

  “I said I saw you, Jenna.  Do you hear me?”  He shook my shoulders, but my hands were still stubbornly hiding my face.  “I SAW YOU JENNA!”  I wouldn’t budge, and so he made it his duty to pry my hands off himself.  I struggled with him until finally I flung his hands away, my fists at my side.

“Run away with me!” 

He took a step back.  His mouth formed an “O” as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“You saw what he did to me, didn’t you?  Then why don’t you just take me away!”

He took another step back.  I didn’t expect any more from him.  We had no ties to each other.  No promise ring for a future together.  We’ve only been dating for two months.  We were the typical high school relationship, with an expiration date of three months.  And so I took a deep breath and dried my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. 

“It’s the end for us, isn’t it?”  

                I tear at the grass, clutching the green strands in my fingers and watching them fly away with the breeze, mangled and broken.  Hearing footsteps squish the soft earth, I instinctively shut my eyes--a foolish child tactic that never works.  He always finds me.

                “Jenna.”

                I open my eyes and tilt my head back to see the intruder.  From my angle I can barely see her face behind her red poodle hair.  It is my aunt.

                “Are you ready?” she says.     

                I respond by getting up off the ground.  She takes my hand and leads me to the front yard.  The flashing red light is no longer pleasant and I try to shield myself from it with my hand.  The policemen stop their conversation and look in my direction, giving me empathetic smiles I choose to ignore.  I turn away from the scene, the chaos that is my home--was my home, and look out into the street.  My fourteen year-old cousin is sitting in the backseat immersed in his video games.  In regarding him I unconsciously pause, prompting my aunt to let go of my hand and wrap her arm around my shoulder, quickening her steps to reach the safe haven of her car. 

                “Wait!”

                Turning to my left, I find that he is here, as if having jumped out of my imagination into the real world.  He is standing behind the front door of his car, beckoning me to come to him with his eyes the reflection of my life, dark and grey.  I could feel my heart lift and before my mind can command my legs, I am already running towards him.  A million emotions pass through me as his figure is filling my view.  So overwhelmed I am I can no longer contain them.

                He looked at me with a face full of pity.  His lips were pursed and his eyebrows puckered as if he was looking at a whining puppy.  I hated that look.  I tried so hard never to see that look--especially from him. “Just say it, it’s over!”

                His expression was set in stone.

                “Don’t look at me like that!  I don’t give a f**k whether you break up with me!  I’ll be perfectly fine without you okay, so wipe that stupid expression off your face!”

                This seemed to break his spell and he blinked a couple of times.  He wiped his bangs away with his hand and sighed.  “I’m not your prince.”

                “I know!  That’s why I don’t want you anymore!”

                He didn’t seem to be listening.  “I just can’t sweep you away, you know.  I’m only sixteen.”

                “I know!”  I repeated.  “Are you deaf?  That’s what I’m trying to say to you!”

                I heard him sniff and I wondered whether it was a cold or he was actually trying to hold back tears for me.  “I mean, I wish I could.  But it’s not going to be me that will save you.”

                “I know!”  I was stomping my feet.  “I know, I know, I KNOW!”  My eyes squeezed out hot tears and my image of him was but a blur of colors.  The colors started to encompass my entire vision until I could see nothing but black.  My face was against his chest, his arms wrapped around me in a warm embrace.  I couldn’t hold back any longer.  My tears flowed freely down my cheeks, spotting the cement of the side walk.  He stood there quietly as I shook, unleashing all my sorrows in one bitter sob.

                I slap him hard across the face.  He winces, cradling his red cheek with the palm of his hand.  He questions me with his eyes.

                “How could you!”  I spat out.  “Look what you did to my family!”

                He bites his lip.  “It was the only thing I could do.”

                My angered expression softens.  Dropping my hand I had used for a weapon, I turn around to see my house.  I can feel my chest tighten as I find my mother sitting on our stoop, her glistening face hiding behind her hands.  But her hands cannot mask her whimpers.  I hear them so clear I almost want to cover my ears in an attempt to soothe the pain that tugs at me.  I pry my eyes away from her and they catch the glint of silver handcuffs. 

                My mother knew.  She knew what I went through and yet she did nothing to stop him.  Whether it was her fear of being alone or financial problems, she was always conveniently away when he wanted me.  “Your father is always right,” she would say to me.  He was the king and my mother was not a queen, but a meager mouse hiding in her mouse hole. 

                The handcuffs hide behind the car door.  I see the face of my stepfather, still firm and unrelenting to the fate that was so clear in front of him.  I almost want to go over and spit at his window.  Turning on my heel, I again face the boy who has suddenly grown a pair of wings.  I have so much to say to him but only one phrase passes through my lips.  “Thank you.”

                “Jenna!”  My aunt is calling me.  “Come on, I want to get home before it turns dark!”

                “Okay!”  I shout back.  I look at the face of my savior one last time.  I know he is trying his best to stay positive, to prove to me that he is not affected by all the trouble that I showered upon him, but I can see his smile waver.  We don’t say goodbye to each other.  It is already expressed through our eyes.  With one last attempt to show him a reassuring smile, I return to my aunt and we both get into the car.  It’s finally over.  Physically, that is.  Mentally, I’m not so sure yet.  But as we exit the street I can see that the ground is still under me and the sun still high in the sky.  My world hasn’t fully collapsed and I can still pick up the pieces.           

© 2012 Carramae


Author's Note

Carramae
Just wrote this on a whim, so I apologize if the way I describe things is strange. Thanks for reading!

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Added on January 19, 2012
Last Updated on January 19, 2012
Tags: spinning abuse boyfriend love hi

Author

Carramae
Carramae

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About
I've always loved to write and have been writing stories since the age of ten. Although my true passion lies in art, I do hope to publish a book someday. more..

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