Young Writers Society

I sat crisscrossed on my bed. The soft yellow sheets sat under my legs and complimented the bright mint paint on my walls. Rock music played in my ears putting me at peace for it, temporarily set me apart from the world and its problems. Among them were my parents multiple arguments. The word multiple has become an understatement… periodic works best.

Once again the two were drunk. Their voices, loud enough to overshadow the pulse of the drums and the reverberation of the electric guitar. Every now and then the breaking of a beer bottle would substitute for the lead singers strong and impulsive voice. It was one that I was envious of.

I put my newly manicured index finger on the volume button and increased it. The music blasted in my ears. Intensely and repeatedly it hit my eardrums. The feeling was painful, but relaxing and the sounds of my parents drowned out.

I crawled under my blankets and rested my head on my pillow. I closed my eyes and let myself slip into a near subconscious state.

I opened my eyes once more to reveal hazy scenery. It's atmosphere was light and carefree. I couldn’t force myself to enjoy it though; lately I’ve had my guard constantly up never leaving myself vulnerable to anyone. Not since Vincent arrived you never know what he would do.

I observed the landscape. I felt hot sand between my toes and I could smell salt in the air. In the distance I heard a collision. It sounded like water on rocks. I could even taste the salty mist in the air. Was I at the beach?

I began to walk this landscape that was far from barren. Where was I? How did I get here? Were among the many questions I asked myself. Soon laughter bounced around in my head leaving me refreshed. How long has it been since I’ve heard the innocence found in laughter. Then I remembered, just the other day I was laughing at Tara’s joke about Mrs. Abbott and her wrinkly face. Even better, how long has it been since I recognized the innocence called laughter and didn’t see it as a way to spite me?

I looked for the source of such happiness and was led to a young girl. Her hair was neatly braided and fell down to her back. Her large brown eyes were gleaming and caught by the illuminating rays of the sun. I studied her closer; she had a small stature and a small birthmark on her right arm that is almost covered up by the frilly red bathing suit she was wearing.

This little girl covered in sand and smiling brightly resembled my younger sister Primrose, or Prim for short. I took two steps forward, cautiously. I had a fear that someone or something would jump up and disrupt this newfound peace. I had arrived in close enough proximity to touch her shoulder.

I had gathered up enough nerve to do so and she turned and smiled at me.

“Hi, Vannah,” she giggled.

“Hey, Prim,” I said crouching down next to her getting used to this new scenario.

“Look at my sandcastle,” she said directing my attention to her creation.

It was small and lopsided. Not the most attractive sandcastle that I’ve ever laid eyes on, but because she made it the castle was beautiful.

Slowly I began to adjust to this place. I could feel happiness hugging me tightly rather than sadness strangling me. The atmosphere wasn’t restricting, it instead provided you room to breathe and grow. I wanted to stay here on this beach beside Prim and her sandcastle. Then I realized why this little beach was so perfect. There was no drunken mom or drunken stepfather.

“Prim, sweetie are you here all alone?” I asked.

She looked up at me a bit confused. Her brow furrowed and the words came out cautiously, “No, mommy and daddy went to go buy us ice-cream. Remember?”

I laughed nervously, “Yeah, of course. I was only kidding.”

“All right,” she said and went back to perfecting her little creation. She was so concentrated. She added seashells, seaweed, and rocks to the castle.

I looked around for signs of my mother and Vincent, ready to come ruin the peace. I saw two shadows in the distance blocked by the mist and the sun. The two figures approached and they appeared to be a woman and a man. Instantly, my arm wrapped around Prim and I tensed preparing myself to yell, “Run.”

Instead, I was greeted by a pleasant surprise, my mother and father were advancing toward us. Rather than Vincent it was the man who took a hand in my creation that emerged with a waffle cone piled high with Mint Chocolate Chip Ice-cream, whip cream, and rainbow sprinkles.

Prim cheered at the sight of them and ran up the beach into my mother’s beckoning arms. My mother smiled and picked up Prim, handing her a sugar cone with chocolate ice cream on it.

I sat on the beach alone and stunned. I felt like I was watching a scene out of a movie. It looked so perfect, to the point where I was afraid that if I joined I would mess it up.

My father looked at me narrowing his green eyes. “Savannah, don’t tell me that at fourteen you’re too good for us.”

I smiled at the comment and got up. Without any second thoughts I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him.

“No, never daddy,” I said looking at him happily.

He smiled at me, “Good, that’s my girl,”

I missed being “his girl” despite how corny the term was I knew that when he said it he meant me and only me.

I was handed the ice cream cone and began to eat it. Everything was so vivid, even the frigid feeling you get when you bite the ice cream felt real.

I looked off into the distance as I ate my sister and overheard the conversation going on between Prim, my mom, and my dad.

There was a disturbance, a black creature advancing toward us quickly . I tried to ignore it hoping that it was the trick of the light , but I couldn’t. Soon it was alarmingly close and I saw that it sucked up everything in its path as it neared, pulling up everything from the sand to the clouds and sky.

“Run!” I yelled.

My family looked at me perplexed.

Why couldn’t they see it? I jolted my father violently and my father looked at me, “Vannah, what has gotten into you?!” my father demanded.

It was too late, the darkness swallowed, everyone, everything whole. Leaving me, only me by myself in the dark.

I screamed, “Prim! Mom! Dad!”

I felt tears in my eyes. They glistened as they fell and I closed my eyes.

“I was so close,” I thought, “so very close.”

When I opened my eyes I was in my bedroom again.

I got up and leaned on my mahogany headboard, “A dream of course,” I said as I picked up my headphones that had fallen out of my ears.

I sighed at the realization, that shouldn’t be this new. Not at this point at least, but today it felt so vivid, so real that it scared me and made me believe something that would never be tangible. Something that would never happen.

As I pondered over this fact, hanging my head low in defeat a shriek pierced the air making me shiver at its shrillness.

I could hear small footsteps quickly approaching. You could hear the haste and fear with every step. The gaining of speed, momentum, triggered by fear.

They stopped only at my doorway. They had belonged to Prim. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes red and puffy. she ran towards me and leaped into my arms.

Hot tears fell onto my shoulder and her small hands gripped them tightly. Prim was terrified of what? The reasoning was unbeknownst to me.

I wasn’t stupid, I wasn’t naive I could assume well enough so had my little sister so scared.

“Vincent?” I asked her, running my fingers through her long brown hair.

Her cries had diminished to whimpers and scattered breaths. She nodded.

Any minute now, I knew what would happen. Vincent would come through the door angry and annoyed. I looked at her. Tears had left streaked paths along her cheeks.

“C’mon under the bed,” I told her trying my best to keep my composure and play the big sister role.

She hesitated, as if the words that I had just spoke weren’t registering.

I repeated myself firmly, “Prim, under the bed,”

That’s all it had taken for her to understand. Slowly she pushed herself off my bed and climbed under the frilly yellow sheets, thick enough to conceal her. I was positive that she wouldn’t be seen, not with first glance at least.

I heard the door open with force. The hinge let out a shriek, but was overshadowed by the burly scream of a drunken man.

Running from this man everyday,constantly finding new hiding places for Prim. It's all become my own wretched routine.

“Primrose! Get down here!” he screamed.

I heard her whimper and immediately shushed her. Thankfully, her noises ceased and I grabbed my headphones, sticking them in my ears, but not playing any music.

It was crucial that I remain alert for both my and Prim’s sake. I heard a muffled door slam and the house almost shaken by the force groaned.

There was silence. I knew that Prim and I shared the same thoughts, "Is he done?"

There lie the difference between Primrose and I. I grasped the fact that with these people there was never going to be a done.

My assumptions were proven correct as soon as Vincent began stomping up the stairs. His size 11 feet and 200 lb fat ass trudged up the steps like a bull at a rodeo.

Any minute now, please stay quiet Prim.

Immediately I averted my eyes from the doorway to my iPod. My hope was that he would be drunk enough not to search for her.

3...2...1

"Savannah, where is that runt you call a sister?" He demanded.

I looked at Vincent un-phased. After all he's done to me, I had nothing to fear. Regardless, it seemed that I would end up dead.

"Why would I know?" I asked, "Do I look like her keeper?"

I commended myself for my wittiness, but I would be the only one who got it. Prim hadn't heard of that movie and Vincent... the only T.V. he watches is illegal.

"You being smart?" He yelled as he stalked towards me.

"Smarter than usual?" I questioned.

Before I knew it his hairy hands had me by my collar. Our faces were at the same level. His breath reeked of alcohol.

"You better watch yourself," he warned before releasing me and throwing me back on my bed.

How sweet, he threw me on the bed and not the floor like usual. I should feel honored.

I got up again, thankfully the impact hadn't hurt as much as I had feared. I just hoped that Prim was all right under there.

I got up from the bed as Vincent went through my draws and closet looking for Prim.

I decided to humor myself with him. His ripped jeans and white beer stained shirt screamed "idiot".

"She's small, but not that small Vincent," I said as he went through my shirt drawer.

"Shut up!" He ordered his voice loud and imposing.

“Or what?” I challenged.

He stopped more infuriated than shocked. He stopped the search through my shirt draw and turned to me. His green eyes were drained and glassy, his skin sickly and pale. If that’s what alcohol did to you, why would anyone want to drink it?

Blinded by rage, he grabbed me by my throat. Due to his… large size he was able to grab hold of my throat from his current position.

I felt my feet lose grip on my wooden floor and my eyes met my persecutors. Height wise we were 9 inches apart from one another.

A whole 9 inches. To fall from such a height would hurt like a b*tch.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” he demanded, the smell of alcohol permeated my nostrils and was so strong it made me gag. I had grown to hate the smell of alcohol. Whether it was a light cooler or strong rhum, the smell aggravated my senses.

“No. I know I’m smart,” I said coming shy of spitting on him.

He laughed, “Well smarty pants get out of this one.” His hand tightened restricting my intake of air.

Slowly the world dimmed. Vibrant reds, greens, and teals that accented the space lost its color like the lights in the school hallway during a thunderstorm. I began to feel feelings of fear.

What were you thinking? I demanded myself Who were you talking to?

The dimmed colors turned black. My usually tight grip on the world and its dangers became jumbled. Confusion and fear struck me. Oddly enough, I pictured death bringing on a new found sense of satisfaction, not something else to hide from. Sure, the experience wasn’t all that new, but there was something with Prim’s involvement that changed the scenario. My ability to keep cool and take as much out of a breath as I could, almost didn't exist and what replaced it was anxiety. Something not greatly appreciated.

Prim came to mind, she and Vincent were the only things that were making sense right now. Prim, fending for herself? Even with me here she isn’t strong enough for that.

“Still smart?” Vincent taunted.

At first his words registered as coherent syllables. Then I could sort them out to form a sentence.

“Prim,” I uttered with my last few remaining breaths.

My hands found their way to my stepfather’s large hairy knuckles that restricted my throat and attempted to pry them from my neck.

My attempts proved futile.

If I’m going to die, God. Then please keep Primrose safe and save her. She prays every day and finds time to put faith in you, so spare her if I can’t be there to protect her.

Have you ever seen a grown ass man’s fill with satisfaction, stemmed from someone else's pain? It’s an interesting sight. Yellowing teeth breaking into a crooked smile, it was enough to keep you up at night for days.

A distraction… no a miracle. I thought. I needed a miracle.

I would’ve appreciated the gesture earlier… like maybe when ‘ol fat ass here first gripped my neck, but hey, can’t rush the man upstairs.

My mother’s voice--which sounded like nails on a chalkboard--that had the ability to intoxicate a load of guys rang through the house. It reached my ears and aggravated them, my low tolerance for such unpleasant sounds didn’t help.my overly sensitive ears didn’t help.

“Sweetie, lets get going. You don’t want to miss the good stuff. Right?” she hinted in a playful yet aggravated tone.

“Coming babe,” Vincent called, obviously shutting her up.

He sighed, as if this constituted as work for him. Poor thing, lifting a 108 pound girl into the air who measures at 5’3. How exhausting.

I was dropped mercilessly onto my wooden floor that didn’t provide as much of a comfortable landing as carpet may have.

Our eyes met, my sister and I. For the first time I let her see uncertainty in her big sister’s eyes and she cowered back. Quickly, I recovered myself with a slight wink. She relaxed a little which calmed me down.

"Next time," Vincent warned, "you try to act grown. I'll kill you and Primrose too. Got it?" He demanded.

I nodded, "Yes,"

"Yes, who?" He asked.

"Yes," I scoffed, "Daddy,"

He smiled wickedly, "Good girl,"

I watched him walk out of my room awkwardly because my doorframe wasn't met for Mr. Chub chubs here. I sat on my floor waiting for them to leave.

Badum Badum

There he goes walking down the steps, of course the Badum Badum distances at the steps it continued with every walk.

Them my mother began to walk to him in her hooker heels.

Clank Clunk Clank Clunk

"Ready to go?" She asked her husband.

"Yea babe," he said.

At one point in time I wanted my husband or boyfriend to call me babe, not anymore.

They both walked out the door.

Badum Clank Badum clunk

"A percussion ensemble." I thought.

The door opened and whined, hinting that it needed it be greased.

The world was still dark and I waited excitedly for them to leave. The door slammed once again making the house groan in response.

It took 2 minutes, but the Vincent's bright red Cadillac (probably stolen) started up and pulled out the driveway.

My eyelids got heavier as he raced down the street. Prim peeked out from under the bed.

"Vannah?" She said warily in her light hearted voice.

On her tiny hands and knees she crawled to my side, seeing my eyes closing and my heavy breaths.

Prim lay down putting her head on my stomach and found my hand. Her hand wrapped around mine and she smiled, "I love you Vannah,"

"I love you too Prim," I said before blacking out.