Tired Of Surviving

by Naomi Amanda

  TIRED OF Surviving

  Naomi Amanda

  All rights reserved.

  The scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Tired of Surviving Copyright © 2018 Naomi Amanda

  All rights reserved.

  To Rohan,

  Thank you for your constant support no matter the distance between us but next time, click a picture with me.

  “If you are not a part of the solution, you are a part of the problem.”

  -Eldridge Cleaver

  Prologue

  There are certain moments when you’re hurt so bad you can’t feel the pain anymore until something or someone makes you feel again. Then all those feelings come back.

  Every word.

  Every action.

  Every moment.

  Why should I tell them how I feel? Even if they ask, hear or see it, how can they understand what I go through; what I feel?

  What they see isn’t everything. What they see is not who I am.

  I am not smart or beautiful or perfect. I pretend to be.

  I am my past.

  I am unheard.

  I am unseen.

  I am unwanted.

  I am a human error.

  Chapter 1

  “Hide in here and she won’t find you,” a voice of a child spoke.

  The sound of crying and sniffling filled the room before the little boy clapped his hand over the little girl’s mouth, muting her weeps.

  “Don’t cry,” he told her. “She’ll hear you.”

  They both hid in the darkness of a closet, only a sliver of light from the hinges of the door slipping through. The boy kept the girl’s mouth covered, pressing a finger to his lips with his other hand as the sound of footsteps drew closer.

  The little girl closed her eyes tightly, her tears escaping along with a small hiccup just before the door to the closet flung open. She stared up at the tall figure looming in front of them before a hand grabbed her tiny wrist, yanking her upward.

  The screams that followed were heartbreakingly deafening as the light burned in her eyes and the pain burned through her body.

  “Cheyenne,”

  I felt a bright light burn the insides of my eyelids red. Suddenly I could feel the heat that caused the layer of sweat on my body, making the material of my clothes stick to me. And that made me feel terribly uncomfortable.

  “Cheyenne,”

  My eyes snapped open and I sat upright, throwing the covers off me. The sunlight that streamed through the window blinded me and I squeezed my eyes shut again. I wiped the sweat on my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt.

  “Are you okay?”

  The curtains were drawn closed before I opened my eyes again, making me notice my younger half-brother standing beside my bed, looking worried.

  “Y-yeah.” My throat felt raw as if I had screamed earlier. “What’s wrong?”

  “You were crying in your sleep,” he answered and he looked so much younger with that expression on his face.

  “It was just a nightmare.” I shook my head, forcing a smile. “What’s the time?”

  “Six o’ clock,” he told me. “Are you going to be late?”

  “I think so, Cody.” I quickly slipped out of bed. “Go downstairs so I can get ready.”

  He nodded, leaving my room as I rushed into my bathroom. The sweat had soaked through my clothes and hair so I needed to shower before I could dress up. Then I had to eat breakfast and pick up my best friend from two blocks away.

  It was the first day of my senior year and I was going to be late.

  Showering in record time, I blow-dried my hair, brushed my teeth in less than two minutes and went with light make-up and cherry red lips. Quickly, I pulled on a white top with a red pleated skirt and my white Adidas sneakers.

  Grabbing my book bag and phone, I wished for once that someone would care enough to call me down for breakfast or scream at me for being late. And it made my heart feel heavy.

  Yes, I wanted to be screamed at for something so trivial but those were the tiny ways of showing how you cared about your children or family. Sue me for wanting that.

  Jogging down the stairs, I strolled into the kitchen where my father ate his breakfast quietly behind his newspaper. He was completely oblivious to my presence but I wished my presence would be ignored by someone else.

  “Cheyenne-” Cody perked up before I could grab a muffin and leave the kitchen.

  I felt Susan’s cold eyes turn my way as I tried to swipe a muffin off the kitchen counter. I barely pulled my hand back before she grabbed my wrist, skinning me with her nails.

  “Those aren’t for you.” The words seethed through her teeth.

  Yanking my hand out of her grasp, I saw the angry red marks burning my skin and I rubbed my wrist. Biting back a retort, I turned around, grabbing a slice of toast from the table.

  Cody ate his cereal without a clue about what had happened when he turned his back and my father chose to ignore it. My mind swirled with anger and my heart clenched in pain as I rushed out of the house without saying goodbye.

  I climbed into the red Chevy Chevrolet Corvette and turned the ignition. I backed out of the garage slowly before driving down the street, turning onto the main road and stepping on the gas. The pain in my wrist subsided as the adrenalin pumped through me.

  I hated her. I hated her so much for how she treated me. And I hated my father for letting her. But what I hated the most was that I couldn’t say a thing. I had learned the hard way that screaming and talking back only made it worse.

  I managed to push away the anger about what had happened and ruined my morning by the time I pulled up in front of my best friend – Laura McQueen’s house. I watched as she jumped off her porch swing where she had been waiting for me, rushing down the stairs of her Victorian designed home. Her honey blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail that swished side to side as she walked toward my car.

  I unlocked the door for her and she hopped in. She shut the door quickly before I turned out of the street and toward Northwynne High. Laura didn’t speak as I drove as fast as the speed limit would allow until our school came into view.

  “What took you so long?” she asked, fixing her low-cut top so that it wouldn’t reveal too much of her cleavage.

  “Sorry, I woke up late,” I told her quickly as I made a sharp turn into the school parking lot.

  A large number of students were still standing outside the main building. Laura took the chance to pull out a mirror to touch up her make-up.

  “Did you eat breakfast?” she asked and I nodded.

  I hated lying to her. It made me feel terribly guilty but I knew I couldn’t tell her the truth. She’d worry about me and I’d feel even worse. Not that it mattered because she could see through my lies.

  “You’re the soon-to-be mayor’s daughter but you can’t manage breakfast?”

  “Cruella de vile wouldn’t let me pick up a muffin.” I sighed.

  “Why do you put up with her?” she asked, opening the car door. “She’s so horrible and you just take her crap.”

  We got out of the car and gave each other once overs like we always did before we entered school. Just to make sure that none of us ever had a fashion disaster. Not that Laura could have one.

  Laura was incredibly beautiful with honey blonde hair and shining bl
ue eyes. And her thin body with the perfect curves gave her a modelesque look – like a real life Barbie. Her perfection was visible even if she wore something as simple as she was now, which was a low cut pink top with black skinny jeans and pumps.

  My looks were completely different with long chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes. My curves were nothing compared to Laura’s but enough to have a good figure, too. Having high cheek bones and what Laura’s mother called ‘a face that drew people to me’ seemed to make up my simple looks.

  “Let’s not talk about this now,” I told her quickly, brushing it off.

  I never spoke about what actually went on at home. Sometimes something small would slip out in front of Laura but I’d quickly change the subject or say I didn’t want to talk about it. And she had gotten used it.

  We made our way through the crowd of students and I plastered on the fake smile I had mastered over the years. We waved, smiled and greeted everyone who did the same to us.

  Saying that we were popular was kind of an understatement. I didn’t want to sound superficial or full of myself but we were kind of the queen bees of the school – part of the IT group. And as cliché as it was, we were cheerleaders.

  We were liked by everyone and we didn’t even have to be rude or bully anyone because everyone always followed what we said or did. I knew better than anyone about what it felt like to be bullied and I would never do it to another human being. But I was the head of the Northwynne High’s varsity cheerleading team and everyone at school knew me. They all wanted to be friends with me or wanted to be me.

  Except me. I wanted to be someone else; anyone else.

  Chapter 2

  Laura and I made our way to our new lockers after third period. I had dumped my books in it earlier in the day and I had to take them out.

  Lucky for us, we had the same lunch hour. But it hadn’t actually been luck. Laura and I had chosen our classes keeping in mind that we wanted to eat lunch together.

  I opened my locker and a small folded up piece of paper dropped to the floor at my feet. I bent down quickly to scoop it up before anyone could notice it but who was I kidding? Laura was too quick for that.

  “What’s that?” she asked, reapplying her lip gloss. “Is that a love letter? Who the hell slips love letters into people’s lockers in this century?” She giggled as she tightened her tied up hair.

  I shoved the other books in my locker, exchanging them for my creative writing text book and shut it closed. I leaned against it and peeked into Laura’s locker which she had already managed to decorate with puffy stickers and pictures of her and her friends. I, on the other hand, never bothered to decorate the inside of mine.

  “Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked and I shook my head.

  I wasn’t interested in any proclamations of love for me. I mean, no one knew the real me or how my life actually was and I didn’t intend on letting them find out.

  I knew how relationships worked. I had dated many guys and most of them had ended badly for me. And I wasn’t talking about the breakup. I was talking about Susan – the step monster – who made it a point to hurt me every single day. She’d call me a slut or a whore, threatening to off me if I ever let them know anything about what went on behind our closed doors.

  “At least check if there’s a name,” she prodded as she closed her locker so we could head to the cafeteria for recess.

  “What good would that be?” I asked her. “It’s not like I’m going to date him and introduce him to the family.”

  She frowned at me before looping her arm through mine and half-dragged me to the lunch line. The girl at the front of the line let us cut through to get our food. We both picked up trays to get our food. I took a ham sandwich, salad, banana and a glass of milk and paid for it while Laura contemplated on her lunch choices, holding up the whole line. But no one complained.

  When she was done, we headed toward our usual table. The rest of the cheerleaders and jocks were already there.

  “Chey! Laura!” Marika Torrez – the last member of our close-knit trio – hollered before we reached our table. “Where have you chicas been all summer?”

  “Hamptons,” Laura answered simply as if everyone in our small town had summer homes in the Hamptons. Not that many people in town weren’t rich enough to own one.

  “Right.” Dayle – Laura’s new boyfriend – chuckled and she shot him a withering look. “Come here, babe.”

  Laura happily complied, plopping down in the seat next to him. I watched as she ran a hand through his blonde hair, gazing into his eyes affectionately before pressing her lips to his. I looked away quickly, taking my seat on the opposite end of the table with Marika.

  Laura and Dayle had gotten together over summer break, after she had returned from the Hamptons. That left me in a tough position of either being stuck at home with Susan’s ugliness or being their third wheel. I had chosen the former, leaving the house only when Marika had called me out.

  “Where’s Javier?” I asked Marika, referring to her boyfriend.

  When I followed her gaze, I turned to find him watching us, a tray of food in his hands. I noticed a look of betrayal cross his face for a split second. He shook his head ever so lightly, turned around and headed to another table. Javier had been the only guy at our table who wasn’t a football player and also Marika’s longest relationship.

  “What was that?” I turned to look at her but she had her head ducked.

  She stared at her hands in her lap, Her long, straight, dark auburn brown hair covered her face like a curtain.

  “Did you guys break up?”

  “It’s no big deal.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  She sounded way too sad for it not to be a big deal, if her demeanor wasn’t a dead giveaway.

  I slipped my hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. She looked up at me, her chocolate brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “Talk about it when you feel like,” I told her. “I’ll be there to listen.”

  She nodded but didn’t attempt to explain it so I let it go, motioning for her to eat her lunch as I dug into mine. I was starving. One stupid mistake of waking up late and I had to skip breakfast and I knew I needed the energy to get through the day.

  “I think we’re starting the cheer try outs today,” Marika said, loud enough for Laura to hear her, too. “I heard Ms. Hansen talk about it in P.E. So, I guess we have to stay after school.”

  “Great,” I said with my mouth full of bread and ham.

  I felt a strange happiness fill my chest. It was a good enough reason not to go back home after school. Susan had a way of giving me hell if I didn’t tell them where I was going. And a harder way of showing me what happened when I went somewhere she didn’t approve of.

  Cheerleading tryouts was a wonderful excuse to not go home. It was something she couldn’t hurt me for since I was cheerleading captain. I had to be there for the tryouts which meant I had a weeks’ worth of excuses.

  After our classes were over, Laura, Marika and I headed to the girls’ locker room to change into our P.E. shorts and t-shirts for the cheerleading tryouts.

  We were the only three seniors in the squad so we got to judge who made the cut and who didn’t. The other members of the squad didn’t necessarily have to be there. The ones who wanted to be were already on the field, probably hoping that their friends would make the squad.

  “I slept with Dayle,” Laura said casually as I pulled my top off.

  I turned to gawk at her as she shimmied out of her jeans, revealing her lacey underwear before she pulled on her blue shorts.

  “Seriously?” I asked, more out of curiosity than shock.

  Laura had slept with more guys than I could count but I was the only one who knew about it. She had managed to keep all the guys she had slept with quiet about it so there wouldn’t be rumors about her. But she had always confided in me about them.

  It had to be only the second time that Marika had heard about it which meant
she was serious about Dayle. The first time she had told both me and Marika about sleeping with a guy was when she had gotten into a serious relationship with a senior guy. We had been in our sophomore year at that time and when he graduated, they broke up, leaving us to pick up the pieces. Since then, Laura had slept with several guys in our school and only told me about it.

  “Wow,” Marika said, a little less enthusiastic as she pulled on her blue and white sports t-shirt over her head. “How was it?”

  “Amazing,” Laura gushed. “He’s so good in bed.”

  I shook my head since I was probably the last virgin standing in the whole school. Not because I didn’t want to have sex but because it was impossible with the way Susan breathed down my neck every second of my life. I stepped out of my skirt and folded it neatly, putting my clothes in my locker.

  “What’s that?” Laura asked, her eyes narrowing into slits as she stared at my exposed back.

  I turned around quickly, pulling on my t-shirt and shorts. I felt my heart throb in my throat, threatening to jump out as I met Laura’s accusing eyes. I knew what she was referring to and I wasn’t about to explain it. She was asking about the bruises on my back; the ones that were an after effect of Susan’s whipping. She always used different things to hurt me with. These were marks of a leather belt.

  “How did you get hurt?” Marika asked me. “There’s a bruise on your back.”

  “I fell off my bed a few days ago.” I laughed nervously. “No biggie.”

  Marika’s face lightened with understanding as she believed me and turned around to put her clothes away. Laura was harder to convince. She raised an eyebrow at me, willing me to tell her the truth.

  “Seriously, Laur,” I assured. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. I fell off my bed and got scraped by the bedside table.”

  “Fine.” She turned around with a disapproving shake of the head.