by Wood, A. L.
“I’m not sure, it could be a driver.”
“In between goals is a thing called life, that has to be lived and enjoyed.” - Sid Caesar
Chapter Three
“I’ll go pick them up from the airport.”
“Are you sure, Jason? I could always call a cab or something to go get them.”
“Yeah, it’s not an issue. I was going to head out anyway and stop at the store. We have guests coming and our cabinets and refrigerator are completely empty. They can just stop with me at the store on our way back, get some food that they like.” I planned on running out anyway, not like one extra stop will make a difference.
“Alright. Just a little caution though with Raven, she doesn’t enjoy flying, so I assume she might be miserable after the flight.” Abby warns me.
“She’ll get over it.” I say right before I grab my car keys and exit the house into the garage.
The weather is gorgeous, and I already checked the forecast, they’re lucky that they’ll be here for a week of mild temperatures and no rain. We don’t live far from Los Angeles International Airport, so I swing by there first, knowing that they should have already landed. When I pull up to the curb of the airport pickup, I see Selena and Raven standing outside with luggage in hand. They both look annoyed. All I can do is hope that this week isn’t full of the attitude on their faces.
I roll my window down and yell out. “Trunks popped, put your luggage in and climb in.”
Raven takes the lead, placing her bags in the trunk with Selena behind her. Selena opts to sit in the back and Raven sits in the front beside me.
“Took you long enough, didn’t it? I thought there was supposed to be a car picking us up, not you.” Raven says with clear disdain.
“I’m the car. You landed twenty minutes ago. I knew you’d have to wait for your luggage and find your way out of that maze. I was doing myself a favor. I would have been sitting there forever, and rules are rules you can’t linger in the pickup lane.”
“Yup.” she says while looking straight ahead.
“Enjoy your flight?” I say to Selena, stealing a glance at her in the rearview mirror.
“About as much as I enjoy objects in my ass, which is not at all, if you were curious.” she replies dryly.
“Umm...okay.” What else can I say in reply? Not my fault that she doesn’t enjoy ass play, nor is it my fault she had a horrible flight. I did book them on first class, so if anything it should have been comfortable.
“You should fly back home with Raven for me. She makes a minivan full of newborn babies favorable, any day over being in her company on an airplane.”
Raven turns her entire upper half around to face Selena.
“Selena, you knew how I felt about flying. You could have said no when Abagail called, or that we would drive. Instead you said yes, and then didn’t leave me much of a choice in the matter seeing as how the tickets were already purchased. So right now I’m blaming you for my mood. Maybe in a few hours, when I can hear correctly, I won’t be as pissed off as I am now.”
Selena doesn’t reply, and if I were in her shoes I would just leave it where it’s at. Ravens acting like a petulant child, overreacting really about something so ridiculous.
“We have to stop at the store before heading back to the house, by the way. There’s no food, so if you’d like to eat this week I wouldn’t comment negatively.” I say.
No response, nothing but silence from them. It’s so quiet that I can hear the tires rotating on the paved road and the low purr of the engine of my car. Awkward really, so I decide to turn the radio on at a decent volume, enough so that if they attempt to argue I won’t hear it.
Nothing worse than downers, this is a two week break from our schedule. A schedule that picks up with more shows than we had at the beginning of this thing. Breaking Benjamin blares out of the speakers, Breathe, an amazing song that even I as a rock artist can respect. I notice Ravens lips moving along to the words, she must be a fan. Maybe they’re on tour. I could hook them up with some tickets. They are Abby’s best friends after all, and one of our mottos is that if it’s one of our significant other’s family or friends, they become ours. We wouldn’t let just anyone into our circle, because who knows who you can trust lately. We’ve all had some odd run-in with a groupie, crazed about the prospect of being with us, or befriending us.
That’s not something any of us are down with.
I pull into the grocery store parking lot and ask if they’d like to join me inside so they can pick out food that they like too. Raven and Selena both decide to join me, Selena choosing to push the cart.
I hate pushing the shopping cart.
We get the shopping done pretty quickly, maybe an hour and four hundred dollars later. I know, that’s a lot of money, but there are six of us staying for a week. When Selena and Raven leave we’ll be doing some adventures of our own, no playing hostess.
When I pass through our security system, allowing for the gate to open is like watching a high school reunion, Abagail runs out, causing Selena and Raven to jump out of the car and ambush her with hugs. You would have thought that they hadn’t seen each other in years, not weeks.
This reunion of sorts also causes me to be left with every single grocery bag. So I text Gage and Zepp to get their asses out here to help me.
“What is this supposed to be?” Raven asks me, distaste marring her face.
“It’s chicken parm, what else could it be?” I ask back, defensively.
“It doesn’t look at all like chicken or parm. It looks like slop on a plate, something that you would feed an animal perhaps.”
“Well, if you think you can cook better than me, by all means make your own fucking meals.” I lose my temper.
“Jason, calm it. That was uncalled for.” Gage scolds me.
“Really, Gage? If Raven wants to insult the food I make, then why should she have to eat it? She has two functioning hands, she can make herself something to eat.” I gather my plate in one hand, and my glass and fork in the other and stalk off to my bedroom. At least there I’ll be able to eat in fuckin’ peace.
Earlier, I thought that there was a possibility that this week could be a fiasco of attitude, but then I thought give her a chance. Low and behold I give her a fuckin’ chance and she reminds me that yet again the woman doesn’t know what happiness is. Walking around full of anger and directing it at everyone in radius of herself. Selena on the other hand is laid back and obnoxious, I like it. She has no shame about herself.
I stay in my room for the rest of the night, passing out early because although this is a vacation of sorts, the guys want to give Abagail and her friends an adventure.
“The best way to predict the future is to create it.” - Abraham Lincoln
Chapter Four
“Well dinner went smoothly, the food was splendid and Jason seems like a charmer. He was so polite. Also that guy, he’s an amazing chef.”
“Cut your shit, Raven. I know that usually it’s me you use to take your anger out on, and that’s fine, I understand that. You need someone to let the aggression out on, and I’ve been fine being that person. Up until now. I’m not going to sit back and allow you to treat anyone else like shit. You knew what you were doing by saying that. You were looking for an argument, and you decided that person was going to be Jason. This is his home that you and I and Selena are staying in as guests. They didn’t have to offer to let us to stay here. You could have been in a hotel.”
I cut her off. “A hotel has much better hospitality than what Jason offered.”
“This is the attitude I’m talking about. You walk around like everyone owes you something. I understand the life you’ve lead, Raven, I really do. I know it wasn’t the best, but no one owes you anything. I don’t have to be nice to you, especially after the way you’ve treated me since I graduated school. I do it because I love you and because you’re one of my best friends, you’re part of my family. I excuse all of your bullshit because
of the past. It ends now. I’m not doing it anymore. Its time you’ve moved passed the anger you’re always holding on to, you need to get over it and find happiness for yourself.”
“Get over it? Like I wouldn’t move past my issues if I could? You think I want to linger in thought over all the shit they did to me? Do you? Because I don’t. I would love to find happiness Abagail, but it’s just not for me. You and your blonde hair and pretty shoes, your high and mighty job. Your rock star boyfriend, you have it all figured out, don’t you? Now that you’re on the top, us little people aren’t good enough for you anymore, are we?”
“Raven, you’re taking what I said the wrong way. I know it’s not easy to move past, but you have to seek help or something. Scaring away everyone who loves you isn’t healthy. If you keep acting like this, everyone that does love you is going to leave. I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t sit around anymore and watch you self-harm. Maybe some of it is my fault for allowing you to treat me this way, for standing on the side lines while you’ve treated others like this. I see what it’s doing to you inside, so I can’t stay behind the line anymore. I’m next to you and I’ll be here to help you, but you need to make changes, starting within.”
“I can’t talk about this with you, please leave.”
“Raven...”
“I’m going to bed. I’m done talking about this with you.”
“I’m always here for you. I just want you to be healthy. I love you.”
She leaves.
Of all people in the entire world that I’ve ever become close to or befriended, Selena and Abagail are the only ones who know. Who’ve seen what I had to go through. They were there for most of it. Sometimes my mom would tone it down a notch because of the company, or witnesses I should say. Other times she gave no shits over who would be seeing her beating me.
I wasn’t a child who called abuse over a spanking, or getting put in the corner for long periods of time. No, I was a child screaming abuse because of the belt whooping I was given, day in day out. Most times I preferred a belt, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as a spatula did to the face, and it hurt even less than the choking. I’m not claiming that I was an innocent child every day. I was a fucking kid though, nonetheless and no child deserves to be harmed like that.
She never stopped with just the physical though, she was verbal too. Always tearing me down, telling me how I was worthless and a waste of space. That she should have aborted me because then she wouldn’t have to be responsible for me. As I got older, I made friends, Selena and Abagail. I would always find an excuse to get out of the house, so I wasn’t around my mother all the time. I would beg them to spend the night at their houses. They didn’t know why, at first, I kept it hidden. She never left marks where it could be visible to outsiders, and if by chance she got so angry that she did, well then I wouldn’t be going to school until it had healed. But then again, I was punished for that too, because my body wasn’t healing fast enough and she couldn’t afford to feed me.
My father worked a lot, so he wasn’t home most of the time she was hurting me, but that wasn’t an excuse. I know he saw the marks, I know he had to of overheard at least one time while I lived in that house. He remained ignorant. He pretended to be oblivious to what she did to me, all because he loved her. I’m glad they never had another child. I couldn’t imagine anyone else having to go through what I did. I couldn’t protect myself, so I don’t believe I would have been able to protect another.
I remember the first time my mother hit me in front of Selena and Abby. It was Christmas Eve, I was ten. We didn’t celebrate Christmas in my house for real. We had a fake tree that was to represent that we did celebrate. But we didn’t. My mother even went so far as to wrap cardboard boxes with wrapping paper and place them under the tree, she held on to the same boxes every year. I never received a gift. But that year, my tenth year alive, my tenth year of living with parents who didn’t care for me, who felt that I was a burden.
That year, I received my first Christmas present.
At first I felt embarrassed. I didn’t know how to unwrap a gift. Do I just tear the paper off or do I find the seams where tape holds the paper down and slowly tear that away, saving the paper if possible so it could be reused?
We had been sitting in the living room, next to each other on my mother’s worn out couch. She was seated in a recliner, which had long ago seen its better days. I hadn’t gotten Abby or Selena a gift, I felt terrible. They told me it didn’t matter. I promised myself that one day I would make it up to them. I almost cried when Abby placed the first box on my lap. They didn’t understand what it meant to me.
My mother looked on, bleakly. I could tell that she was furious and when they left I would likely get a beating for accepting those gifts. What ten year old child didn’t want a Christmas? When all of my friends and their families celebrated, they even celebrated birthdays, something we never did. How could I have told them I didn’t want their gifts? They were my friends. In that moment I decided I would take a beating, just to be able to unwrap the gifts. Just to experience what the paper crumpled beneath my fingers felt like.
I reached my fingers shakily to the left flap and slowly tore a large piece off. I let the waste fall to the floor. I would pick it up later. Piece by piece I let the ripped slips of wrapping paper fall to the floor, until there was but a long white box on my lap.
“What is it?” I asked out loud.
“Open the box up, Rave.” Abagail had said, using the nickname she had given me.
She helped me find the seam of where the lid and the bottom of the box met. I slowly opened it to reveal the most beautiful sweater I had ever seen. I pulled it out of its confines while moving the box to the floor in front of me. It was white and very soft, what I would imagine cashmere to feel like. Surely they couldn’t have had their parents buy me something so expensive. Nonetheless it’s special, and the value on a price tag doesn’t compare to the value I’ve already placed on it.
“Okay, time to open my gift up.” Selena reminds me.
I leave the sweater in my lap as she hands me her box. It’s a little smaller than Abagail’s gift, not that it matters at all what’s inside. I open it the same way, slowly, piece by piece. It’s a box as well. I lift the lid, part the tissue paper, and find a hat and gloves, made out of the same material as the sweater Abagail had gotten me. They’re the same midnight black hue, with the same softness.
I take them out of the box and put them on while standing up to give Abby and Selena a hug as thanks. I wish I could have earned some money, or that my mother would’ve let me buy them a gift. I didn’t ask because I knew she would say no. As I pull Selena in for a hug, my mom gives me the look of warning that as soon as they leave I’m in for it.
All because I accepted the gifts.
But they didn’t leave right away as she had hoped for, which sent her on a rampage. It took all of fifteen minutes for her to demand my presence in the kitchen away from eyes. I went hesitantly, wishing that they would leave while I was in there with her, so they didn’t have to hear the names she called me as she hit me.
They didn’t though.
My foot met the cold tile in the kitchen the same time that my mother pulled me by the arm as momentum to slam me into the stove. She yanked open the drawer next to the stove as I was trying to steel myself for what was to come. Brown and splintered, a wooden spoon that had seen its better days, that had seen many days against my flesh. She wielded it as a weapon, though, never kitchen cutlery. Each smack against my back left stinging welts in its wake, she was careful to never hit the same spot twice. She wanted me hurting everywhere, feeling her anger on my entire being. A reminder that I had done something to upset her, yet again.
I held my lips shut while biting my tongue, careful not to scream out. My eyelids slammed shut trying to hold my tears in, because nothing made her madder than me crying. I shouldn’t be crying, ever. Her rules, another one of her fucking rules. As each smack landed
upon my back, it became harder and harder to keep those tears in. I tried though, I really did.
I knew she had seen them on my face when she stopped hitting me. She only ever gave me a reprieve for a few moments when she saw tears. When she started up again, though, it was worse, one hundred times worse. The break wasn’t long and it ended with my pants being torn down. She started hitting me with the spoon on my backside.
That’s when Abagail and Selena walked in. Even now I wish that they hadn’t walked into that kitchen. That they hadn’t come over. I wish I could erase what they saw, never having seen their faces.
I wish they had just left.
They looked to me with pity, and my mother with horror. All four of us became frozen in that small dingy kitchen. Me with my pants down my stomach smashed into the stove, my eyes now open and tears freely falling down. My mother still as a statue with one hand holding that old wooden spoon still in the air, as if she were prepared to hurt them to if need be. Abagail and Selena looked to her then me. Abagail broke the silence first.
“You’re not going to hurt her again,” she yelled at my mom, “we’re telling.” With that, Abagail and Selena ran out of the kitchen and out of my house.
They came back though, fast, with police and their parents.
That night I was placed into child protective care.
I wasn’t there long, though, because Selena’s parents were awarded full custody of me until I turned eighteen. Abagail and Selena had saved me from them.
Sadly, no one could save me from myself.
I lived with Selena and her family until I hit eighteen, I graduated high school and got myself a full time job as a receptionist at a local doctor’s office. It’s how I’ve been able to afford my own way all these years. It’s also the reason why I was able to take a very short noticed vacation, because I haven’t used any of the days I’ve saved up.