Pained

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Pained Page 7

by Vera Hollins


  Seriously, how could my mother live this kind of life? She was in her late thirties, good looking, and single, and she was spending her nights at dark, suspicious places where anything could happen to her. It was no surprise she had a long history of abusive relationships.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this. I had to. I would just go inside and pick her up. Hopefully, she would be too drunk to cause a scene. Maybe she wouldn’t be aggressive at all, and we would be out of there in no time. Yes. I had to be optimistic.

  I stepped out of my car and cursed under my breath when the cold air hit my face. I pulled the collar of my jacket higher, feeling chills on my neck as I strode briskly to the bar. After a moment of reassurance, I opened the door and stepped into the dim room, greeted by the rock music playing in the background and incessant chatter of voices all around me.

  Retro pictures decorated the brown brick walls, which matched the dark brown furniture and hardwood floor, completing the bar’s traditional look. The place was big. It was divided into a few secluded areas, which were all currently occupied by guests, most of them in their twenties or thirties.

  My cheeks burned, and my skin prickled all over. I told myself to focus on the bar, which was directly across from the entrance, but I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. I clenched my jaw, looking over the booths closest to the bar. But then my eyes skimmed over a familiar face, and my heart flipped in my chest when I met his intense stare.

  Hayden.

  A sweet ache spread through me, and the temperature in the room grew a few degrees higher. He wore a frown; his bruised face showed a mixture of surprise and anger as we looked at each other.

  It was hard to believe he was here, of all places. He was sitting with Blake, Masen, two older guys, and two older girls who were on the guys’ laps, all of them packed together in that small booth drinking beer. How were they allowed to drink here? Did they use fake IDs or bribe the bartender?

  I shifted on my feet, realizing I’d been standing in one place for too long. My eyes met the bartender’s, before his gaze went to my mother, who was sleeping hunched over the bar. My anger rose to the surface at the sight of my wasted mother. I crossed the room swiftly, donning a hard blush that only grew hotter when I stopped next to her bar stool. She didn’t even move.

  Michael smiled at me. “Hi. Sarah, right?”

  “Yes. Thank you for calling me.”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for calling you all the way here this late, but as you can see, she’s not quite well.”

  “How much did she have to drink?”

  “Let’s just say a lot. She mixed a few drinks, and I cut her off. She didn’t want to call anyone to pick her up. Her phone was next to her, so I called you as soon as she fell asleep.” He shrugged. “We’re closing soon, so...” He trailed off uncomfortably.

  I nodded, my lips pursed. I wanted to disappear into thin air. She always did this to me. She always embarrassed me and forced me to face things no teenager was supposed to face. Would it kill her to live her life like a decent person? Would it kill her to not drag me down my whole life?

  “Hey, mom.” I nudged her shoulder and grimaced when I saw she was drooling. “Mom.” I nudged her again, and she stirred, blinking a couple of times before she focused on me.

  She frowned and sat up in an uncoordinated move. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, slurring her words.

  “I called her, Patricia,” Michael said softly. “You need to go home. We’re closing soon, and you can’t drive drunk.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she brushed him off.

  “No, you’re not, mom. Come on, let’s go.” I took her upper arm and tried to pull her up, but she snatched her arm away from me and pushed back.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  My breath hitched. A few conversations ceased as customers turned to look at us, and I hated that she put us in the spotlight. Pressure built in my head and chest under their stares, and I tried my hardest to look at only my mother.

  “Mom, please. Don’t do this now. I’ll take you home.”

  She pushed me again, more forcefully, and my hip hit the counter. “Stop forcing me to do something I don’t want to do! You always do that. Mom this, mom that. I can take care of myself!”

  I couldn’t do anything but stare at her in shock and embarrassment. Her inebriated eyes were filled with aversion, and pain shot through my heart. Pressure in my head intensified; a loud noise filled my ears.

  “Please, don’t do this here. Lower your voice—”

  “Oh, for crying out loud! Stop being such a pussy! You’re always so scared of such stupid things. Grow up!”

  It felt stifling. All of this—arguing in front of all these people, the constant drama, the uncertainty that was tomorrow... This would never end. She would always disappoint me.

  Arguing with her was no use, yet I couldn’t prevent myself from saying, “Grow up? You think I haven’t grown up enough already? I’m seventeen, but I feel way older than that, mom! I don’t have a normal teenage life. I work hard and struggle to keep up with school, job, bills—”

  “You struggle with job and bills?” She laughed like I’d said the most absurd thing ever. “I’m the one who’s struggling here with her good-for-nothing daughter! I’m stuck with a dumb girl like you, and I have to work hard to support your stupid ass!”

  Her words were like a slap to my face, only they stung a hundred times more. Hot prickles spread across the back of my head, my vision blurring around the edges as I grasped onto the reality behind her words.

  “I work two jobs, completely unable to have the life I want, while you enjoy your peaceful life with stupid dreams of going to college. You want to pretend you’re somebody? You’re nobody.”

  The mocking voices came to life in my head. You’re nobody. You’re trash. Why don’t you die already? You’re stupid. You’re ugly. You’re a creep. Nobody would care if you died. Your own mother doesn’t want you. Why do you even exist? You will fail. You won’t do anything useful in your life. Your dreams are stupid. Go and die.

  Die.

  Die.

  Hot tears spilled from my eyes, and I slowly drowned in that old despair, unaware of my surroundings. My whole head was prickling now. My heart was beating so fast I feared it would burst.

  “Stop.” I wanted to scream at her, but it came out as a hoarse whisper.

  “Don’t say those things, Patricia,” Michael tried to reason with her. Somehow, his voice sounded far away. “You’re drunk, and that’s not what you mean—”

  “I mean every single thing. I’m drunk, but it only makes it easier for me to say all of this.” She moved her glare from him to me. “I’ve always despised you, Sarah. I hate that I have a daughter.”

  I was breathing too fast. Rage, fear, and despair twirled in me. I could’ve died recently... Maybe it would’ve been better if I had. She didn’t care.

  “Stop,” I whispered again. My vision blurred.

  “It was the worst mistake of my life I regret every second,” she continued, mercilessly striking me with the words that left deep scars. I knew this... Deep down, I knew this, but hearing it now made it seem final. Now I had to accept it. I couldn’t run from the truth.

  “Stop...” My body swayed, and I gripped the counter.

  “I wanted to abort, but I found out about the pregnancy too late. You’re a burden, and I want you to get out of my sight. Just disappear!”

  “I said stop!” I shoved her shoulders, losing myself in fury and desperation. She caught herself before she fell from the stool, her eyes flaring in uncontained rage.

  “You’ll never put your hands on me again, ungrateful bitch!” She jumped from her seat and slapped me so hard it cracked loudly. I fell to the ground, landing directly on my back injury, and pain exploded through my back as if my old wound was split open.

  A curtain of darkness fell over my eyes. The buzz in my head grew louder as confusion danced across the
edges of my mind. The sounds around me sharpened, and I opened my eyes to find Hayden hovering over my mother. He got into her face and told her something. Judging by her expression, it wasn’t anything good.

  “Hey, sweetie. Let me help you get up,” an older, sleazy-looking guy said and stopped above me, offering me his hand. Sweetie? He suggestively licked his lips. “Here.”

  Hayden moved fast, shoving him back before he could reach for me. “Touch her and you’re dead.”

  I blinked as I took him in, my mind foggy. He seemed unreal, and I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. No, he’s here, and he’s helping me.

  “Hey, man. I was just going to help her. It’s not a big deal,” the guy said as he backed away, his hands raised in the air in a defensive gesture. He glanced at me. “Right, sweetie?”

  “Sweetie?” Hayden’s body tensed with rage, and he stepped toward him, raising his fist.

  Michael jumped between them in the last possible moment. “Not here,” he warned Hayden. “If you want to fight, go outside.”

  I raised myself to my wobbly feet and glanced at my mother, who was unfazed by the commotion. She took the empty glass she’d used and tried to take a sip from it, until she realized it was empty. She set it down with a clank and turned her attention to the bottles lining the shelves. She’d just told me the most horrible words a parent could say to their child, but she didn’t show even a drop of remorse.

  I drew my gaze back to Hayden, feeling dizzy. “Hayden, it’s okay. You don’t have to do this,” I mumbled. Why did you help me?

  I tried to approach him, but I swayed as black dots filled my vision, and I fell into his embrace. My cheek pressed against his chest. A familiar pine tree scent mixed with the smell of cigarettes met my nostrils, accelerating my pulse.

  “You’ll be okay,” Hayden whispered, sending shivers down my neck. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  What? I tried to look at him, but he held my head tightly against his chest, his warm hand palming my cheek. I couldn’t move, listening to the increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his shirt.

  I couldn’t believe he was holding me like this. I couldn’t grasp the fact that he was hugging me after all this time and everything that had happened between us. It was unnerving how natural it felt. My breathing and pulse were erratic, but now it had nothing to do with panic or anger.

  An unwanted image of Mateo crossed my mind, bringing a heavy weight to my stomach. I was losing myself in Hayden’s embrace while I was with Mateo. That wasn’t right.

  I tried to push him away. “Please let me go.”

  He ignored me and looked at Masen, who had stopped with Blake next to us. “Mace, take her mother home.” My stomach flipped.

  Blake raised his eyebrow, looking curiously between Hayden and me, but he remained silent.

  “And you?” Masen asked him.

  “I’ll take Sarah’s car and drive her back.”

  My eyes widened. I pushed against his shoulders, managing to separate myself from him this time. “What? No! I can drive myself.”

  Hayden’s face was blank as he looked at me. “No, you can’t. You almost fainted, and you’re not okay.”

  “I’m not some damsel in distress, Hayden. I can take care of myself.”

  A flash of ire passed through his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck if you can take care of yourself or not. If you want to pass out while driving, be my guest.” His harsh words silenced me completely, and I couldn’t think of an answer as I stared back at him. “What? You’ve got nothing smart to say? I didn’t fucking think so.”

  He took his jacket from Masen and waved shortly at his friends in the booth, who had been watching the scene with amusement. He put his jacket on and grabbed my upper arm, pulling me to the exit. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Masen dragging my mother out, ignoring her protests.

  I was bowled over by the route this evening had taken. Everything happened so fast. All the while, my mother’s words resided in the corners of my mind.

  She’d told me I was just a mistake...

  We stopped next to my car, and Hayden held out his hand, palm open. “The keys.”

  I frowned at him. “You were drinking. You can’t possibly drive—”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve driven like this?”

  This wasn’t reassuring or acceptable at all. “I’m not going to let you drive when you’re not sober!”

  “This isn’t open for a discussion, Sarah. Do you want me to force you to give me those keys and get in the car?”

  I glanced at Masen and my mother. He pushed my mother into her car on the other side of the small parking lot, unfazed by her insults and hostility. He exchanged a few words with Blake, then Blake headed to the alley next to the bar, presumably going to his car.

  Another excuse came to my mind. “You can’t drive me because you came here with your car.” This sounded lame and stupid even to me.

  Hayden rolled his eyes, growing more impatient. “Like that would change anything. Besides, Blake drove Masen and me here. Now, the keys.”

  I took my keys out of my pocket reluctantly and gave them to him, flinching when our hands touched. He wrapped his fingers around my hand before I could pull it away, and our gazes locked. I wasn’t able to do anything as I looked at him, relishing in the contact that fed a sizzling sensation deep in me.

  I couldn’t decipher the emotions in his eyes or his intent. He’d told me to stay away from him. He was ignoring me all this time... I’d believed he’d moved on.

  After what had just happened with my mother, I was vulnerable and confused, with no clue as to how to act or what to do.

  I broke the contact between us when I reached for the passenger door and got inside, already missing his touch. I buckled myself up. Hayden rounded the car and got in, squishing himself into my driver’s seat. He slid it backward so he could have enough space for his long legs. I watched him with a throbbing in my chest.

  Hayden is in my car. And I’m feeling a whole bunch of emotions right now.

  He didn’t say a word as he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot.

  He’s so close to me now. Too close.

  “Do you have any tissues?” he suddenly asked me.

  “No. Why?”

  “You have blood on your lip,” he said the exact words he said more than two months ago, the last time my mother slapped me and made me bleed.

  As soon as he said it, I grew aware of the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I wiped off some dried blood with my finger and looked at it. My throat closed up. Numbness spread through me as the memories of my mother’s aggression toward me played on repeat.

  I wiped away the blood with the back of my hand and fisted my hands on my lap, looking through the passenger-side window but not actually seeing anything. All I could see was my mother’s face twisted in disgust.

  “I’ve always despised you, Sarah.”

  All those times she didn’t care about me or my feelings.

  “I hate that I have a daughter.”

  All those times she insulted or hit me.

  “It was the worst mistake of my life I regret every second.”

  All those times she did wrong things, destroying our lives little by little.

  “I wanted to abort, but I found out about the pregnancy too late.”

  All those times she treated me like I was the dirt beneath her shoes.

  “You’re a burden, and I want you to get out of my sight.”

  All those times she left me on my own.

  “Just disappear!”

  I’d almost died, but she’d still acted like a stranger. We didn’t even talk about it. I didn’t have a mother whom I could tell how hurt and afraid I was. I was terrified of Josh. I feared something like that would happen again. I was horrified by the amount of physical pain one person could experience. I was afraid of so many things, and I needed love.

  I needed a mother I never had.

  I never woul
d.

  Abort. Abort. Abort.

  Her words finally settled in.

  She’d never wanted me. I was a mistake.

  I didn’t even realize I’d started crying until the tears reached my neck, and I shuddered, brought back to the present. I looked at the road ahead and noticed Hayden was driving in the opposite direction of our neighborhood. We were going to the Connecticut River.

  I looked at him with wide eyes. “Why are we going this way?”

  “I want to show you something.”

  I frowned and wiped off my tears. “What?”

  “Wait and see.”

  “The last time you said that you left me alone in the forest.”

  His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “Stop reminding me. Let it go already.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “You will.”

  He passed through a patch of leafless trees, following an unpaved road that ended at the riverbank.

  “What did you say to my mother?” I asked him when we reached the river.

  He shut off the engine. He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the river, and as the silence lingered, I came to think he wouldn’t tell me. But then he said, “I told her to think twice before she laid a hand on you again, or she’d regret it.” I stared at his profile, flabbergasted. He took off his seat belt. “Come outside.”

  Without waiting for my answer, he got out of the car and walked over to the river, stopping close to the water. I didn’t move right away. My pulse pounded in my ears as I thought about what he’d just told me, and longing stronger than reason pervaded every inch of me. I unbuckled my seat belt and went outside.

  The cold air clashed with the warmth I felt inside, and a freezing sensation hit my cheeks and nose in an instant. It was much windier and colder next to the river.

  I rubbed my cold hands together, trying to warm them, and approached him slowly. My body buzzed at his nearness, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he helped me tonight. And now we were here, all alone.

  “So why are we here?” I asked him, stopping a couple of feet away from him.

 

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