|Does Anybody Hear Her?
Author: Broken-Angel-1994 PM
How did I-the invisible girl- end up half naked in the back of a truck kissing a hot, popular guy I hardly know. How did it possibly come to this? I was glad I was angry. If I wasn't angry, I might actually tell him to stop.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 3 - Words: 8,559 - Reviews: 35 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 21 - Updated: 06-11-10 - Published: 11-21-09 - id: 2743677
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Does anybody hear her?
Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she's going down today?
"Why don't you just leave?!" Martha screamed in my face. Tears flowed down my flushed cheeks and I covered my mouth, trying to smother the sob that was rising in my tight throat so that my dad couldn't hear. He didn't care if we fought, but if he heard me crying like this he'd come in. I didn't want him to come in. This was between me and my sister.
Even though she was shorter than me, she seemed to tower over me as I cowered into my bedroom wall. The terrified shakes vibrating through my body made my knees want to give out. I had to hold onto my bedside table for support. My freshly painted fake nails gripped the edge so hard that my knuckles turned white.
The angry tears in my eyes blurred my vision. My older sister's screams didn't make sense anymore. All I could hear was the blood pounding over and over, running hot behind my ears. A cold sweat started to dew up on my forehead and my body began to heat up. Was I blushing? No, I wasn't blushing. I was mad. Madder then I had been in a long, long time. In all honesty, it frightened me.
Finally, I stopped her. "Shut the hell up!" The scream was so loud that it hurt my aching throat.
She stepped back a little. Her eyes turned into giant blue saucers and her lips fell opened a tiny bit. Then, she stepped towards me again. Her face twisted in rage. "You think you're so big and bad now that someone actually likes you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Well guess what? Nobody likes you! In fact, they hate you! Everyone hates you! You can't do anything right!"
My domination was short lived. I fell back against the cold wall again, still crying. My head thrashed blindly in wordless objection as I squeezed my eyes shut. More hot tears gushed down my cheeks like a dam that had finally broken.
"You can't do anything right!" she continued without mercy. I looked down and tried to cover my ears with my trembling hands. But I could still hear her. I could hear her sneering, "You shouldn't even be part of this family! It's your fault that we had to move to this crappy place! You're the one who made Mom loose her job!" By now, Martha looked like she was about to cry too, but no tears came out. "It's your fault she left us!" she shrieked. "I hate you!"
Just like that, I straightened up. My hand suddenly had a mind of its own. It lifted, went back, and then swung forward. There was a loud, painful slapping sound, followed instantly by Martha's shriek of pain. "That's not true!" I spat as adrenaline coursed through my veins, stinging, burning, and fueling my anger. I stared at my big sister with angry fire in my eyes.
"Don't call me a bitch! You're the bitch!"
Somehow, I wasn't in my body anymore. My mind disconnected from my body; this was it. I had snapped. Snapped like a little twig.
My body went all numb; it reminded me of when Martha put me in a choke hold and made me tap out. Tingles ran from my head to my toes; the feeling was very close to when your foot has fallen asleep. I no longer had control over my body.
It felt like I was floating above the scene, sitting on the ceiling like Spider Man. Not really here.... dreaming.
It wasn't me down there, with my face stained with tears, my brown eyes blood shot. That wasn't my hair, which was spent hours curling, in my face, sticking to my forehead with sweat. Those weren't my hands, reaching up to grab Martha around her throat. That wasn't me, pulling her to the carpet floor and sitting on her stomach to her to hold her down. That wasn't me, with my hands gripping her throat tighter and tighter until she couldn't even breathe. Those sounds were not coming from my throat. Those cut wrenching; blood curdling shrieks did not belong to me. Who was that monster?
That wasn't me.
It couldn't be.
But somehow... it was.