As lee walked home from school that day, she thought about the promise she made her teacher. What would docs do about her parents neglecting her, and her father’s physical outbursts? She’d like to see them deal with her father. Get real, she thought to herself. Nobody can deal with Mr. Ferguson, Mr. Ferguson deals with them. And what if Lee did call? What if her parents found out and accused her of being disloyal? Lee would be lucky to see another day. The worst possible reaction of her parents would be to not care at all.
Over the years, lee had convinced herself that her parents really did care; they just didn’t know how to show it. The thing is though, as hard as she tried, she didn’t believe her parents loved her at all. They were selfish, cold hearted people who should never have had a child. Why didn’t they have manuals for parenting? Why didn’t they have licences for parenting so people like lee’s mum and dad couldn’t have children?
The house was close by and lee’s mind paced like a ticking clock. Should she call docs? Or should she just live with it? If she called docs, did that make her weak and disloyal? And if she didn’t, did that make her stupid?
A small, grey pebble was on the path in front of her. She kicked it as she weighed out the pros and cons of making the phone call of a life time. Eventually, Lee came to a logical solution. If she kicked the rock and it landed on the scratched side, she’d call docs, and if it landed on the smooth side she’d grin and bear isolation for the rest of her life. She stood still in front of the small pebble, and inhaled. This was it. Deep inside, lee desperately wanted the pebble to land on its scratched side, because the scratched side would lead to emancipation; freedom. Her future was held by an old, grey pebble. Her blood rushed rapidly through her veins. And she kicked it.
The pebble rolled, ricocheting off a nearby gutter, then a parked car’s tyre. It began to slow, coming to a complete stop. Lee let out a gasp of relief to see the pebble had landed on the scratched side. She ran and picked up the decider of her destiny. Together, they walked home, knowing they’d be safe soon; emancipated.
Lee rushed into the house and dialled the number Mrs. Landers had written on her hand. The dial tone repetitively rung, oozing through her ears like the sound of music. Nobody answered the phone. There was a voice recording, saying that they’d call back.
Lee’s heart beat as fast as the dial tone, the anticipation slowly killing her. She waited for the phone to ring. Her mother had just left. It had hit 5 and she religiously went out to associate with her alike low life friends to celebrate their underachieving lives and the joys of having little to no responsibilities. Her father was on the worn couch and had been unconscious for the past two hours. As per usual, he was repressing his emotions with a bottle of numbing alcohol.
She waited patiently, hoping community services would call and rescue her from this lifeless, emotionless house, this shell.
Suddenly, the door flung open. It was lee’s mother. What was she doing back so early? It was only 10 o’clock.
“Hello there little lady” she shouted, her speech slurred.
Lee quickly escaped for her room. She was sick of seeing her mother in such a state, but of course her mother followed.
“Get back here, you little brat! Why are you running away from me huh?” she shouted.
Now her mother was riled up, primarily due to her intoxication. She stumbled through lee’s room, clumsily stomping.
“You ungrateful little kid!” she chanted.
Lee didn’t scream, she didn’t cry, nor was she sad. After having numerous words thrown at her like knives by the people who should love her, she grew cold and immune to words that eventually became meaningless; words associated with being unwanted, unloved, unlovable, uncared about, unworthy.
Lee was a stone, a cold and solid stone that was unable to be broken or repaired.
Her mother bent down to Lee’s level. The smell of gin was consumed by lee’s small nostrils. Although she had grown accustomed to the bitter smell, her stomach churned every time.
“I never asked for you, I never asked for any of this that has happened”. Her mother hissed.
After screaming at lee, her mother turned around to exit the room, stumbling and grabbing onto wall frames. It was confirmed on numerous occasions that lee was no more than a burden to her mother, that she was not worthy of being loved or provided with affection. She resented her parents for that, for not providing her with the basic human need; Love.
At that point, lee knew the pebble had made the right decision. She wanted to thank that very person who had parked that very car in that very spot, she wanted to thank that very gutter, because without them, she would be living a life whereby she’d continue to be unloved, unwanted.
The phone rang. If lee’s heart thumped any harder, it would have broken through her delicate rib cage. She inhaled. A honey like voice was on the other end. “Hi Lee, this is Department of Community services”. This was it.
