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Count On Me(30)

By:Melyssa Winchester


I want my mom.

There’s what sounds like yelling in the hall, but I can’t make out the voices. All I know is that whoever is on the other side of the door is angry. So angry that I don’t ever want them to get the door open because if they do, I’ll be right back where I started before. Scared, alone and making a fool of myself.

Why did I agree to this when she asked me about it? I could have easily told her that I didn’t want to go to school, that I was safer at home and she would have found a way around it. Why did I have to do the right thing and say yes, so that she could finally have a break from me? All I want is to go home and never come back. I never should have said yes to this. Home school might be lonely, but at least I wouldn’t be a crumpled mess on the floor.

The door opens and I crouch into myself, not wanting the people that are bound to walk in to see me this way. It’s not as if I can hide all of it, but I really don’t want to look anyone in the eye. I’m such a mess. A gross, disgusting mess and all I want is to be left alone in it, the way Amy and her friends wanted me to be when they left me here.

“Jesus Christ, Isabelle!”

Before I can even register the voice, I feel myself being lifted up from the floor. Keeping my eyes shut tight, I wait for what comes next. The voice sounds concerned, but with the way everything goes here and how much stuff goes unnoticed, I’m not sure of what I’m hearing.

“I’m here now. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

I know the voice now, the more it speaks and it’s the last voice I want to hear. It’s the voice that no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get out of my head even though he doesn’t belong there. He hasn’t earned it. He’s a jerk, or as he says, an asshole. He’s definitely the last person I want seeing me like this.

His arms wrap completely around me, my body being pulled into his and I fight against it. I don’t want to be held by him. All I want is my mom. I want to go home, crawl into my bed and never come out again.

“Thanks, Jim. If you bring the bucket, I’ll clean this up for ya.”

“You sure you don’t want me to get someone?” the voice I can only assume is Jim answers. I know Jim. He’s the custodian for the school. He’s actually been at more than one accident scene with me. Jim is nice. Jim isn’t Kayden.

“No man, I got this. Just bring me the stuff and I’ll handle it.”

There’s a gust of air as the bathroom door shuts and I feel his body shift beside mine. It’s only when he breaks away from me and makes his way toward the door again that I realize he’s leaving and the sob escapes my throat.

“I’m just locking the door, Belle. I’m not leaving.”

It’s as if he knows that even though I don’t want him here, I also don’t want him to leave. I can’t even open my eyes. I’m just standing here, barely keeping myself balanced, shivering, shaking and waiting for him to come back. I’m not even sure I can move on my own anymore.

This is the worst it’s ever been.

Before I know it, his hands are on me, except this time, they’re placed on my shoulders and it’s when I feel his hand under my chin that I realize what he’s trying to do and I shake my head. No. I can’t look at him. If I open my eyes and look into his, I’m going to crack even more and I won’t do it.

“Belle, please look at me. I swear you’re safe. I’m alone, there’s no one here but me.”

I keep shaking my head and I hear him sigh. I know I’m not making this easy on him, but I didn’t exactly ask for him to open the door now did I? What did he expect me to do?

“Okay fine. You don’t have to look at me, but I’m gonna ask you some yes or no questions okay? All you gotta do is nod or shake your head. Can you do that for me?” he asks, his voice so low, it’s almost relaxing. Not at all the way I’m used to hearing it. There isn’t a hint of anger or frustration at all.

I nod my head slowly, accepting what he needs from me, but still keeping my eyes firmly shut.

“Did they burn you?”

Again I nod my head and this time I feel his body tense. He didn’t attempt to slam anything the way he did in his car, but it’s obvious he’s not happy with what I’m telling him. The minute I nod though, I realize that telling him, I’ve done what they told me not to and now they’re going to come back again.

I start shaking my head no repeatedly and suddenly the hands that were on my shoulders are on my head preventing me from the continuous motion.

“Did they tell you not to tell anyone?”