Grade 8 Star Writers Winner
Kate Roger '17
Lucy and I raced upstairs. We made it a game to evade reality. I took the stairs three at a time, then jumped inside my room and closed my door as softly as possibly, so as not to bother him. Lucy did the same. I went into my closet and heard Lucy go into hers. Putting my head in my hands, I lay my stomach on the ground, eye level with the Hole. Lucy and I made the Hole when I was seven and she was ten, two years ago. The wooden panels of the wall separating our closets were weak, and we easily created a face-sized hole by pulling on the peeling wood. I covered it up with my winter boots, and she covered it with her laundry basket. Mommy and George never found it. They were not likely to, either, what with the lack of cleaning and the negligent parenting. Not that Lucy and I minded. We took care of ourselves.
Peering through the hole into Lucy’s blue-grey eyes, I whispered to her, “When do you think he’ll stop?” She responded, “He only had three this time, so it should be safe in an hour or so. What should we do till then?” I contemplated this. While we hid, we usually talked about school, or played with our Barbies through the Hole. Sometimes we played cards, but that was more difficult. I crawled over to my bed and grabbed my new glow-in-the-dark Barbie from under the bed. Lucy and I played with our dolls until the hour was up.
Quietly, we tiptoed out of our rooms, looking at each other for comfort. My room was the closest to Mommy and George’s. Our hallway was shaped like an L. George and Mommy’s room was across from mine, and Lucy’s was adjacent to me. She got the better room because she was older. I quietly edged up to their room, and looked around the doorway. I could see Mommy in her bathroom, calmly wiping blood from her cheek, her face impassive. She sensed me standing there, as only mothers can do. “It’s okay, Molls, George went out to run some errands,” she told me in a soothing voice. I ducked my head out the door and beckoned for Lucy to come in. George “running errands” meant George buying his mind-poison. He must have run out, as it had been a rough week for everyone.
Lucy and I walked over to Mommy and hugged her. We did not say anything. We were past the point of asking if she was okay. Mommy was always okay. “What do you say you girls go on over to Jack’s house for the day?” Mommy asked, “Me and Daddy need to work some things out.” Feeling awful, Lucy and I nodded and went downstairs to get our shoes. Guilt washed through my body at leaving her alone with him, but Lucy and I had to perform in the play tomorrow, and makeup can not cover every bruise. We ran across the street to Jack Nester’s house, our long-time best friend. We rang the doorbell, and his mother, Jean, let us in. I saw Lucy turn back, and I did the same. From across the street we could see our mom at the front door, waving to Jean. Jean’s easy smile turned into a sad grimace.
Jack bounded down the stairs, excited to see us, although we came over almost every day. At age ten, he was as rambunctious as any other young boy. Jack, Lucy, and I watched Star Wars on the big movie theater screen in his basement. We had almost watched all of the movies. Then, we ate dinner, Lucy and I finishing our whole plates, as we always did. We washed our dishes, to Jean’s protest, and then went home.
Lying in my bed that night, I only fell asleep once I heard George creep back into the house around one a.m. The next day I went to school, and through the motions of the play robotically. I did not expect Mommy or George to show up, and I was not surprised when neither did. After walking the few blocks home with Lucy, I sat down to do my homework. A couple hours later, George came home. I had yet to see Mommy. Lucy and I were sitting at the kitchen table, doing our respective math worksheets. George strolled in an sneered when he saw us.
“Well aren’t you two just pretty as a picture. Doing your homework like two perfect little girls,” He said in a menacing voice. I could not believe that he was already drunk. He must have been driving that way as well. I hoped that he had not driven Mommy anywhere. George sat down at the table, watching us like the predators I had seen in my science class. “Molly, bring my briefcase up to my room,” he ordered me. I sighed, and went to pick it up. I could see that this was a test. He followed me up, and I knew instinctively that Lucy was right behind him. I got to his bedroom door, and then looked at him expectantly. He gestured towards the closet, and told me, “You should know where my things go. I know sneak around my room, you little snoop. Don’t think I can’t see you,” he chuckled in a twisted manner.
His laugh was my cue to run. If I tried to hide, he would find me. I ran through his room and down the back staircase, out the door towards Jack’s house. I did not want him coming after Jack’s family, so I ran through their yard. I went out the back onto the sidewalk next to the busy road that led to school. I jogged all the way to my deserted elementary school, only stopping when I reached the swing set. I sat down heavily on a swing, my breathing ragged, my head down.
It was only then when I noticed that Lucy was not behind me. Without thinking about it, I sprang up and ran back the way I had come. When I reached Jack’s yard, I could see George’s car speeding away. I sighed in relief. He was gone. I slowed my pace and walked up to the house. I saw no sign of Lucy. I hopped the stairs, three at a time, up to my room, glancing at her empty room on the way there. I went into my closet to peel off my sweaty clothes. Mid-change, I stopped. There was a distinct scratching sound coming from the other side of the wall.
I quickly put my face up close to the Hole, and gasped in horror when I saw Lucy. She was moaning quietly, her face bleeding heavily, her arm unrecognizable. It was twisted at a distorted angle, and I felt a wave of nausea upon sight. “Lucy, what happened?” I asked, dreading the answer. She replied with a stoic face, “George,” her words dripping with venom. My mind racing, I told her to stay put, then once again ran across the street. I frantically knocked on the door until Jean opened it, her face already creased with worry. Tripping over my words, I said, “Lucy, it’s Lucy. He got her. Jean, please. She needs help. I--- I don’t know what to do.” With a determined look on her face, Jean stormed across the street, with me trailing behind.
The trial was on Tuesday. After Jean found Lucy, she called an ambulance. We were brought to the hospital, where they treated Lucy. The medical bills went straight to George’s account. I had no problem telling them the credit card numbers I had memorized. He had to pay for his actions, literally. Lucy had a bright pink cast, and most of her bruises had faded. Mommy came right when she her the news. She was bawling in the greatest display of emotion I had seen from her. Lucy stayed overnight, and the next day a man that I had expected for many years showed up, his badge my shining salvation.
He asked us all questions, which Lucy and I answered honestly. Mommy tried, but her instinct to protect George was difficult to overcome. Jean pitched in as well. George did not visit once. I questioned if he even knew where we all were. I had not seen Mommy call him. Finally she had given up on her lifelong project to fix him. Some people just were not fixable.
We won the trial. George had no case, no way to defend his actions. He was put away for child abuse, assault, drunk driving, among many other things. It was a life sentence. I felt no guilt for my elation at this. Lucy, Mommy, and I were finally safe. It took years to be able to slam my door shut, to be able to walk flat-footed around the house. Eventually, however, the fear of George faded away. We moved to Colorado from Delaware, where Mommy got a teaching job. Lucy and I missed Jack and Jean, but a fresh start was the only way for our family to get our lives moving again.
On the first day at my new school, we talked about jobs and what we wanted to be when we grew up. When it was my turn, I told them, “I want to be a police officer. I want to watch out for bad people, and I want to keep them away from the people that they hurt.”