Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A Chapter by jumbie's #1 fan

Chapter 2

 

           

            Christine sighed as she sat on her bed. “Ow,” she cried as her foot hit a box under her bed. “That hurt,” she said, rubbing her aching foot. “What did I hit?” She reached under her bed and grabbed the box. It was her photo album box. She flipped through the first one. It was when she was little. She looked close at one of the pictures. Christine was at the park, sitting in the green grass all by herself. A few feet away was Jess, surrounded by little friends, all having a great time. I was alone then too, she realized. That’s how it’s supposed to be. As she looked further into the other albums , all the pictures were the same. Her, alone.

 

            A knock sounded on Christine’s door. The dreaded knock. “I’m dead,” Christine called out.

            The door opened. “If only that was true,” Jess said, walking in.

            “I didn’t say you could come in,” she replied heatedly.

            “I know,” Jess retorted.

            “Well, what do you want? I’m not paying for implants.”

            “Ha, very funny,” Jess said. “Plus, I don’t need those. I’m perfect, remember? A feeling you'll never know. “

            “Whatever. I hate Barbie anyway. Now. Leave.”

            “So,” Jess went on, ignoring Christine’s demand,” you're really emo, huh? Cuts on your arms…”

            “Where’d you hear that?” Christine asked angrily.

            Jess scoffed. “Please, it’s all over campus at your school. So are you really trying to kill yourself? Because I know where dad keeps his gun…”

            “What’s it to you anyway?” Christine asked loudly.

            “Oh nothing, just you know, it’s embarrassing to have your sister as the emo-psychotic-cutter-suicidal-have-to-see-the-school-shrink-weekly freak. It damages my image.”

            “Oh well I’m sorry. Guess you have no choice but to jump off a cliff. Tough break,” Christine replied sarcastically.

            “Isn’t that your job?” Jess shot back. “See ya, loser.” She walked out of the room. 

            God, I can’t stand Jess!  Another knock sounded. “What is it? The day of evil?”

            “Christine, we’re going shopping for the Newport Dance.” Helen said coming in.

            Christine rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Mom, you're not making me go to that stupid dance.”

            “Excuse me. Don’t tell me what I’m not making you do. As far as I’m concerned, you are going. Remember that F on your test? Now you're going to pay for it. We’re leaving. Now.”

            Defeated, Christine got up and followed Helen grudgingly out of her room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

              “What about this one?” Helen asked Christine, holding up a perfectly heinous black and white polka dot one. Looking at Christine’s face, she narrowed her eyes. “You're trying it on. No excuses.” She piled the dress upon two others she had picked out. The door swung open, revealing Christine with a very unhappy look on her face. “Can we please go?” This wasn’t a fun experience.

            “No, we have to find you a dress. Try the plum one.”

            The door shut with more force than it normally would have. Torture. Sheer torture, I tell you, she thought miserably. Once again, minutes later, the door opened. Helen and Jess looked at Christine. “I like that one,” Helen commented on the strapless dress with the black boa.

            “It’s too girly. I feel like a freaking crow!” Christine argued.

            Jess snickered. “You look like one too,” she said laughing.

            “Shut up Jess,” Christine said.

            “Make her try the pink one,” Jess urged Helen. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be the one.”

            How Christine wanted to slap her sister. Christine practically got stuck trying on the dress. She was not accustomed to dresses. She would have been able to handle it if it was black. Not this sheer, pink, flowered mess of girl. Gross. She stepped out. Then holding her hand like a gun, she pretended to shoot herself.

            Rolling her eyes, Helen said,” Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

            Christine stared at her mother. “It’s pink. That’s about as bad as it can get.”

            “I love that one!” Jess exclaimed.

            “Oh please, you do not. You're just saying that because I hate it,” Christine argued back. “Shouldn’t you be finding yourself a dress anyway?”

            Jess sneered. “I’ve already got mine.” She held up a poofy, cream colored, sparkling dress.

            “Eww, puke,” Christine groaned.

            “Eww, puke, your face,” Jess shot back.

            “Girls, really now. We’re in public. No one in Newport needs to know that we are a dysfunctional family. Christine, you’re getting the pink one. I don’t want to hear it,” she quickly added, looking at the daggers in Christine’s eyes.  Helen paid for the two dresses.

            When they were back in the car, Helen began lecturing the girls about arguing. “Now, as you both know, this is a very important party. Everybody who matters goes. I don’t want to hear you guys bickering. Christine, I want you to pretend to be cheerful, polite, and not depressed. I do not want to be embarrassed at this party, or both of you will not leave your rooms for a very long time. Understood?” Both of the girls nodded. “Jess, is Derek coming tonight?”

            “Yes, he is,” she replied beaming.

            Derek was Jess’ oh-so-perfect boyfriend. He was smart, hot, treated Jess like the princess she thinks she is, and an all-around perfect guy. Christine actually happened to like the guy, but thought he was a complete moron for dating Evil Barbie. Derek also sang and played in a band called Rock Anonymous. They were okay. A little too pop-ish for Christine.

            “Christine, are you still dating that one guy?” Helen asked.

            “No, we broke up two months ago,” Christine replied irritably.

            “Well, I can’t have you going without a date. It’s like social suicide. Let’s see, Jess do you know anyone?”

            Jess thought for a moment. “Hmm, let me call Derek and see if he knows anyone.” She pulled out her cell and called him. “Hey babe. I got a question. Do you happen to know anyone that could be my sister’s date to the party? We’ll pay him…ow!” she cried rubbing her arm. Christine’s fist had collided with Jess’ arm. “Your cousin’s there? Ask him. Ooh, he’s Christine’s age? And we don’t have to pay him. Wow, it’s like Christmas has come early---don’t touch me!” Jess squealed moving out of range of Christine's fist.  “Okay, well, I’ll see you tonight. Love you too. Okay, bye.” Jess hung up. “Well, loser, he found you a date.”

            “Imagine that. Good, now we’re all taken care of. I just have to make sure your father will be home tonight. I can’t go by myself,” Helen said laughing.

            “Something tells me Dad will be a little too busy to go,” Christine said a little too loudly.

            “What are you talking about?” Helen asked.

            She thought quickly. “Oh well, you know, Dad’s been so busy lately. With work and all,” she added.

            “Yeah, well. I’ll see if he is available. I mean, how embarrassing would that be if I didn’t have a date? Your father is going and that’s final.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            Christine walked into the counselor’s office, ready for boredom.

           

            “Now, Christine, is it?”

            She nodded. “Yeah.”

            The counselor looked at her clipboard. “I’m Rayonna.

            “You mean, I just call you Rayonna?” Christine asked dubiously.

            “Well, Ray is what I prefer. But yeah, I’m not a teacher, therefore, call me whatever you feel like.”

            “Huh. Okay.” Christine observed Ray. She was probably in her mid thirties and very pretty. She had shiny, black hair, and bright blue eyes. Her smile was warm and made Christine feel comfortable for the first time in her life. Christine’s eyes fell on a necklace that hung around Ray’s neck. A silver cross, engraved with some numbers Christine couldn’t make out.

            “Christine.” She tore her eyes away from the necklace. “How’s home?”

            “What do you mean?” Christine asked.

            “Mom? Dad? Siblings?”

            “Oh,” Christine said. “Well, Dad works all the time, Mom’s a gossip, and my sister’s Barbie.”

            Ray nodded. “Where does your dad work?”

            Christine rolled her eyes. “Please. I don’t even know. I try my best not to talk to my family.” Christine didn’t know why, but it was easy for her to talk about her life to a perfect stranger.

            “I understand. My parents aren’t so great either. How old is your sister?”

            “Jess? She’s nineteen. She got back from Paris, doing some modeling thing. Things have been twice as bad since she got back.”

            “So I take it you don’t get along?”

            Christine gave a hollow laugh. “I’d say that’s an understatement. To put it simply, I hate my family. If they died, I wouldn’t be the least bit sad.”

            “Oh Christine. You don’t really feel that way.”

            “You have no idea what I go through at home. You don’t know me. You're paid to sit here and listen to me.” Christine got up. “This is bull. I’m leaving.” She started walking to the door.

            “Christine, we have another meeting next week.”

            “Fine whatever. See you next week, Ray.” Christine opened the door.

            “Oh and Christine?” Ray stood up. “They don’t pay me. This is voluntary.”

            Christine paused.

            “Have a good weekend Christine.”

            Christine smirked. “Oh, I highly doubt that.” Then she left.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            Christine was finally home. The day at school had been long. There were the whispers. Then David, after school. He was tormenting her as usual. He didn’t hurt her this time. Christine went into her room and locked the door. She got into the shower. Christine opened her shampoo bottle and poured some into her hand. Putting the bottle back, Christine accidentally knocked her shaver out of her shower basket, and it fell on her foot, cutting it. Christine didn’t say “ow” or anything. It surprised her, but didn’t hurt. The water beat down against it, causing some stinging. Christine watched the water wash away the blood that was oozing out of the cut. She picked up her shaver and set it in the basket. She continued washing her hair and finishing her shower.

            As she got out, Christine heard the yelling of her parents. It was like theme music to the pain Christine experienced every day. I wonder if Dad ever cut the affair off, she thought. He’d better do it soon.  Christine stood there in her towel, thinking about everything. She stared at her foot. David hurt her. Her family hurt her. Jess with her horrible words. Helen with her obsession of herself and her reputation. Evan, with his affair. School. Those whispers, haunting her everywhere she went. It was like a dark cloud that stalked her. One full of pain, anguish, and tears. Christine silently cried. She could still hear the yelling. She put on a black tank top and shorts on. Walking over to the bathtub to hang her towel, her eyes fell on the shaver. Christine picked it up and looked at it closely. The safety strip had dissolved. It was time for a new one. She set it on the counter and got a new one from her cabinet. She set it on the tub ledge and threw the other one away.

            Going downstairs, the yelling had faded. Evan was sitting at the table alone. Christine sat next to him. “You cut it off yet?” she asked quietly.

            He looked up. “I’m working on it,” he whispered.

            She narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

            “No, I will. It’s just…hard. She so beautiful…”

            “Eww. Dad, I don’t want to hear about your trysts with what’s-her-face. So, you're going to the Newport Dance tomorrow, right?”

            “Well, I have a date with Lydia. I was going to break it off then.”

            “Dad, this is important to Mom. Even though I don’t really care, you owe this to her. Plus, I don’t want to have to hear about it all night. You need to go.”

            “All right, all right. I’ll cancel on her and go to the Newport Dance.”

            “Break it off. By tomorrow night.”

            “But…”

            “Dad. Tomorrow night is the Newport Dance. Break it off by then.”

            Evan nodded.

            Christine sighed as she went back upstairs. Why does it feel like I have to be the adult around here? No one takes care of me. If only Mom knew that Dad was having an affair. She’d kill him. If they could see my life from my eyes, they wouldn’t last one day with what I have to go through. They sit there and complain about their lives. They have nothing to be upset about. You don’t see me complaining about my life. Vocally, I mean. Plus, I do have a right to complain. My life SUCKS.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

            Christine was in the process of getting ready for the dance. She looked over at her disgustingly pink dress. Gross, she thought. Why pink? Jess, you evil, conniving… “Freak, Mom told me to come help you with your makeup, because you're not wearing all that eyeliner and gray eye shadow. You need to look like a girl. Therefore, I brought emergency makeup.” She held up a bag of pink makeup.

            “Oh God. Puke.” Christine wrinkled her nose.

            “Shut up and let me put this on.” Jess took out her brushes, the pink powdery-ness, and the oozy pink lip gloss.

            “Gross, gross, gross!” Christine squealed. God, I hate pink!”

            “I’m sure it hates you too. Okay you're done. Your date’s gonna love you. Now let’s go.”

            Christine looked at herself in the mirror. I look like a pink foo-foo princess, she thought miserably.  

            “Come on, we’re going now.” Jess pulled her away from the reflection.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            When they got there, Christine observed the area. It was just as she predicted. A bunch of rich people drinking wine, dancing, and eventually will be so drunk, they will be giggling like idiots. She sat down at a table, arms folded and bored out of her mind. Christine looked over at her mother, who was giving her the look. Oh yeah, I’m supposed to not act like a social outcast. Helen motioned her over. Reluctantly, she got up and went over.

            “Oh, this is my daughter Christine. Christine, this is the owner of Newport News, Jason.”

            “Christine, it is very nice to meet you,” Jason said shaking her hand.

            Christine smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you too.” Helen was looking at her. “I absolutely love your magazine. It’s definitely one of my favorites,” she added. A little lie never hurt anybody.

            “Wow, it’s so good to have someone as young as you interested in the news. You have a beautiful daughter, Helen.”

            Helen beamed. “She is, isn’t she? I was just telling her the other day how beautiful she is.”

            Christine stared at her mother. Lies, all lies, she thought. “Oh would you excuse us?” asked Helen. “Honey, I think your date is here.”

            Christine almost rolled her eyes and turned around. She saw Derek and Jess, but no sign of her mystery date. They walked toward them. “Mom, I don’t see any---“ She cut herself off.

            “Hey Christine,” the blonde haired, blue eyed guy said.

            She couldn’t speak.

            “Hello, I’m Christine’s mother, Helen,” Helen introduced herself. 

            “Good evening Helen, I’m David,” he said politely.

            “What are you doing here?” Christine managed to ask.

            “Oh, do you two know each other?” Helen asked, looking at the two.

            David’s eyes flickered over at Christine. “Christine and I go to school together.”

            Helen looked at Christine. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise, Christine? Someone you know and such a fine young man. Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” She shot Christine a smile and left.

            Christine wished she would have stayed.

            “Christine, will you dance with me?” he asked taking her hand. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass your mother,” he added, quietly in her ear.

            She didn’t say anything, but let him pull her out on the dance floor. It was a slow song. His hands slid down her back and settled on her hips. He put her arms around his neck. Christine cringed as he pulled her closer to him. Only two inches apart.

            “So Christine,” he said in her ear, “how have you been lately?”

            “How do you think?” she asked quietly, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

            “Christine, you’d better stop crying,” he warned. “People will begin to get suspicious.”

            “I can’t stop,” she said wincing as he tightened his grasp on her hips.

            “Well, I guess I’ll have to make you happier,” he murmured, pulling her closer yet again. He leaned in closer.

            Christine gave a frightened gasp as his lips crashed down on hers. He wouldn’t let her go. He kept on kissing her. She couldn’t pull away. His kiss was so violent. Her tears fell down harder. She couldn’t take it anymore. Christine kneed him in his, well…uh…let’s just say where the sun doesn’t shine. She pushed him away and ran out.

            She ran through the house and accidentally ran into a guy, spilling his soda all over him. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she said frantically as she tried to clean it up quickly.

            The guy looked at her. “Hey, it’s fine, I didn’t really like this shirt anyway.” He observed her tear-streaked face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

            She kept looking behind her. “I’m fine.”

            “Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly.

            “Yeah—“ She looked back and saw David coming in after her. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” Christine took off running as fast as she could. Which was rather hard because she was in heels and a dress.

            The guy watched her leave and then watched another guy chase after her.

 

            Christine was running so fast that everything was a blur. Her heel snapped and she fell on the cold concrete. “Ow,” she said rubbing her ankle. “Stupid heels,” she muttered. She seemed to have outrun David. For now, at least. “Ohh, I think I twisted my ankle,” she said aloud.

            “That’s the least of your problems,” a voice said, coming out from behind the shadows.

            “David,” she barely could voice her words.

            “Did you think you could get away?” he asked, pulling her up so she could lean on a tree. He turned away from her. “You know, I was being nice, Christine. I think you like provoking me. You seem to like being the victim in this relationship.”

            “What relationship?” she asked, crying. “You raped me. Isn’t that enough?”

            “Shut up!” he roared, striking her across the face. She flew onto the ground.

            “What, you can’t take it?” Christine asked, struggling to recover from the blow. She sat up shakily. “How do you think I feel?” she screamed. “I’m the one who has to live with this! You throwing yourself on me, ripping at my clothes, all the pain you caused me!”

            “I said shut up,” he said quietly, staring fiercely down at her.

            “You're so low and pathetic,” she growled. “A pathetic little boy who gets mad because his toy isn’t working. You're nothing to me, David.”

            He launched himself at her, attacking her. His hands grabbed at her throat and squeezed. She was rolling on the ground, trying to get away from him. Christine tried kicking him, but to no avail. She couldn’t breathe. “David,” she gasped. He tightened harder.

            “Christine, I own you,” he said, fire dancing in his eyes. “Say it,” he ordered, restricting her air supply even more.

            She tried to speak, but couldn’t say it. “You own me,” she wheezed. Then everything went black.

 

           

 

            Christine’s eyes fluttered open. She was looking up at the starry sky. Sitting up, she felt the pain in her ankle. Then the pain on her throat. She touched it. The skin was tender and sore. Christine looked around as she stumbled getting up. She wiped the blood that was trickling down her cheek where David had struck her. Walking home, she could still feel the rage David had when he attacked her. She had got to him. Struck a nerve. He owns me. I admitted that. Right before I blacked out. I said it. This bothered her so much. How someone so vile and worthless could take control of her so easily was beyond her understanding.

            Christine walked all the way to her house. It took her about an hour. She looked at her cell phone. She had missed five calls from her mom. Probably about how embarrassed she was that I went tearing out of the party and injuring my date. Flicking on the light in her house, she realized that she was all alone. They must all still be at the party. A little paranoid, Christine locked the door behind her. Just in case David came to finish me off. There’s no way he’s getting in this house.

            When she got into her room, she took out the ever so faithful first-aid kit and bandaged up her ankle. It was bruised, like almost every other part of her body. There were little cuts and nicks all over her body. Her dress was ripped, probably from rolling on the ground. A good sized cut was across her cheek. Red handprints formed at her throat. The skin was raw to the touch. It stung. Nothing a good amount of makeup couldn’t cover up. She cleaned all of her cuts up. Christine was becoming a pro at cleaning cuts.

            She was angry. At herself, at David, at her family. They didn’t even deserve the title of family. Christine walked into her bathroom and brushed her hair. I promise myself, that my life is mine, not David’s. “David does not own me!” she yelled, throwing her brush at her shower wall. The brush caused her whole basket of shower stuff to fall and dump out all over the tub. “Great,” she muttered as she gathered up her shampoo, conditioner, soap, shower gel, and face wash back into the basket. Her shaver had split. “Man, I just got that out yesterday and now it’s broken.” She picked up the pieces of it and dumped them into her bathroom trash.

            Christine sat on her bathroom counter and thought. She glanced back at the trash. The broken shaver glittered with light. She reached and picked up a razor blade. Looking at it thoughtfully, she decided that she would be the only one who hurts her. Christine turned over her arm, showing her wrist. It had one cut already. That one from David earlier that week. I hurt me, she decided as she pressed the blade against her skin and slid it across her wrist. “One for David.” She slid it again. “One for Mom.” She went faster. “One for Jess, one for Dad.” The blood seeped out of the cuts. They weren’t very deep. Christine didn’t want to kill herself. She was simply expressing her pain. “Another one for David. And another. Another. One more. One for the people at school. If they already think I’m a cutter, why not give them a reason? I might as well go to those meetings for some reason.” Christine heard the door slam downstairs. She quickly opened the drawer and threw the razor blade in it. She pressed a rag against her wrist to stop the bleeding.

            “Christine! Get down here! Now!” she heard Helen yell.

            “Exactly what I need,” Christine said under her breath. “I’m coming!” she yelled back.

            When Christine got downstairs, Helen was standing at the kitchen counter, looking exasperated. “Christine, I asked you one simple favor tonight. Just one. For you to act like a normal human being.” Helen paced around the kitchen while Christine stood in the lit dining room. “You completely humiliated me tonight.” Helen said all this with a very calm, scary voice. “Was that so much to ask?”

            “Mom, you don’t under---“

            “No, I don’t think you understand! I was mortified! People were asking me if that was my wild daughter that injured the young boy and bolted out. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know how I’m going to ever show my face in public again!”

            Christine could not believe her mother. “Oh, of course, this has to be all about you! Do you know how freaking tired I am of hearing of how mortified, embarrassed, and humiliated you are! That’s all I ever hear! I am completely mortified to have a family as screwed up as ours!”

            “What are you talking about? Our family is just fine, except for having you in it!”

            “Oh come off it, Helen! Jess head is stuck so far up her butt, you don’t care about anybody but yourself and how you look to others, Dad doesn’t even love you anymore, and I absolutely hate this family!”

            Helen slapped Christine across her face. “Don’t ever say that your father doesn’t love me. This family is the best thing that has ever happen to you! I don’t know where you get off talking to me like this, you ungrateful, little---“

            “Call me whatever you want! It doesn’t change your black heart! You're so selfish, I’m surprised that Dad hasn’t shot himself to get away from you! I have even thought about it myself!”

            Helen was furious. “I wish you would! You have been nothing but a dirty little burden! You are the scum of this family!”

            Christine had tears of anger in her eyes. Her cheek was throbbing. “I hate you, you malicious witch!” she screamed at Helen.

            “Shut up! You're the biggest mistake I ever made! I wished you were never born!”

            “Well, that makes two of us!” Christine shot back. “I’m leaving!”

            Helen scoffed. “Where are you going to go! You don’t have any friends. No outside family.”

            “I don’t know where I’ll go! Anywhere is better than sharing the same breathing air with you!” Christine stomped up the stairs. She ducked as a crystal plate flew at her. “Missed me!”

 

            Christine slammed the door in her room. She grabbed a backpack and began hurriedly shoving clothes in it. Grabbing everything she needed, Christine noticed the razor blade sitting in the drawer. “One for Mom,” she flinched as she bled once more. “There, that’s everything I need.”

            “You are NOT leaving this house, Christine,” Helen appeared in her doorway.

            “Watch me,” Christine said.

            “You can’t run away,” Helen said. “You are my daughter.”

            “Pity, huh?” Christine pushed past her and went down the stairs.

           

            The front door swung open, revealing a very irritated looking Jess. “Christine, do you know how much you embarrassed me in front---“

            “Shut up, Princess. I don’t care!” Christine shoved past her.

            “Excuse me?” Jess looked at her.

            “Move out of the way, Barbie!”

 

            Finally, Christine was out of the house. “Thank God,” she said breathlessly. God. It’s His fault I’m in this in the first place. If He even exists, that is. Christine had no idea where she was going to go. Helen was right that she didn’t know anyone. Christine had set herself so far apart from everyone. Except for David. He was the only whom she’d ever opened her heart to. There was no way she was going to his house. “I’d rather sleep in a box,” she decided.

            She walked down the sidewalk, not knowing where to go. Christine walked for hours. She walked to the elementary school. Sitting in one of the swings, she looked at her wrist. The cuts were glowing in the shining moonlight. They were swirling before her eyes. Christine was starting to feel dizzy. The cuts churned into a face. Full of evil, laughing at her. The outside was spinning. Christine clutched her stomach as she began to feel sick. She threw up all over the grass. “Ugh, gross,” she said, disgusted. “Jeez, this whole night made me sick, literally.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste. The sound of sirens filled her ears. “Oh, crap, they sent the cops after me.” Christine finished brushing her teeth and hastily shoved everything back into her bag.

            “Miss, please put your hands up.” A police officer appeared behind Christine. She put her hands up, as ordered. A flashlight shone in her eyes. “You Christine Carter?”

            “Yeah, that would be me.” There was no use in lying.

            “We got a call that you ran away from home.”

            “Your point?”

            “We have to take you home to your parents.”

            “Whatever.”

            He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the car.

            “Hold on, I have to grab my bag.” She grabbed it and let the officer drag her to the car.

            “Why did you run away?” the officer asked while he was driving her home.

            “I got into a fight with my mom,” she replied.

            “What about?”

            “About how our family is pathetic.”

            “Your mom seemed genuinely worried about you.”

            Christine snickered. “Well, of course. That’s what she wants you to think.”

            “Well, we’re here,” the officer said. “Do you need me to walk you to your door?”

            She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not four.” She shut the door and walked up the driveway to the house of hell.  Christine opened the door to see her mother and father sitting at the dining room table. 

            “You called the cops on me.”

            Helen stood up. “Yes, of course we did.”

            “I thought you wanted me dead.”

            “What are you talking about?” Evan asked.

            “Oh nothing, honey. Christine and I had an argument and some harsh words were exchanged. We both said stuff we didn’t mean.”

            Christine shook her head. “You know,” she said with a laugh,” I meant everything I said. About you being a witch, I mean.  And I am sure you meant the things you said. Especially that plate that you threw at my head.”

            Evan looked up at Helen. “You said you dropped that on your way down to the kitchen.”

            “Lying some more, huh Mom? Dad, she chucked that plate at my head!”

            Evan stared at Helen. “Please tell me you did not throw that plate at our daughter’s head.”

            Helen shifted uncomfortably. “Well, honey, Christine said some really horrible things to me, and…”

            Evan stood up. He was angry. “ Helen! You do not deliberately try to injure our daughter! What were you thinking?!?”

            Christine stared at her dad. Oh my God. Dad is actually sticking up for me! Am I dreaming?

            “That’s it, Helen! I can’t take this right now! Christine, we’re leaving!”

            She didn’t need to be told twice. “See ya, Mom.” Christine opened the door and left. Evan followed close behind her.

 

            “Dad, where are we going?” Christine asked, excited that her dad was finally seeing things her way.

            He looked at her and put his arm around her. “I think we’ll stay at the Hilton hotel for a few days, until I figure out what to do. Christine, I’m so sorry I never paid attention to your life.”

            Christine had tears in her eyes. “It’s okay Dad. I’m just glad you actually care now.”

            He smiled. “Things are going to be a lot different now.”

            They got into her dad’s Lincoln and drove to the hotel. Evan had gotten a suite. Christine flicked on the lights. “Ooh, it’s beautiful.” Evan looked at her. He had never heard his daughter express so much enthusiasm.  She seemed genuinely happy.

            And she was. Christine had never felt happier in her life.

 

 



© 2008 jumbie's #1 fan


My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register




Reviews

Love it! Love it! Love it!
Just an amazing book!

Posted 9 Years Ago


this story is just so captivating.
i'm completely hooked!
it's 12:21 AM on a school night, i should be in bed. but instead i'm sitting here being addicted to your amazing heart-wrenching story. i can't wait to read more!

Posted 11 Years Ago


I think you should take this even further and turn it into either a book or a movie. Very good job. I was biting my lip in nervousness pretty much the whole way through. I'm very into this story. (in more ways than one) Wow!!

Posted 12 Years Ago


Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5
I agree with Ice Queen and Blue Angel on this as well! It was great! I absoluley loved it!

Posted 12 Years Ago


I totally agree with Ice Queen on this. This chapter was simply unbelievably great. UNBELIEVABLY GREAT! I can relate to many of the situations here. And for Christine only being 16, and all of the hell she's going thru, i wish i could just hold and comfort her, forever. She doesnt deserve this hell she is going thru at all. That david should have his penis removed, and be thrown in the 10th level of hell, for Christ's sake, that evil SOB! U've explained this so amazingly, i swear. U have so much talent and a great and powerful soul, i swear. I congratulate u on these chapters. These are the kinds of stories i love to read. And this is truly one of my favorites :) Excellent work! :)

B.A.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Wow, I'm still unable to stop reading. This story is amazing, it just sucks you in and makes you feel really sad for Christine. A great continuation, excellent job!!!

Heather

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

292 Views
6 Reviews
Rating
Added on June 23, 2008
Last Updated on August 12, 2008


Author

jumbie's #1 fan
jumbie's #1 fan

Norman, OK



About
All my life, writing has been the one thing I've been good at. Of course, that's an opinion, and it depends on your tastes. Throughout everything in my semi-short life, writing is the one thing that c.. more..

Writing
Home Home

A Poem by jumbie's #1 fan



Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..