Novel #1

I drag the back of my hand across my forehead, finding it to be shining and cool against my skin. I can’t help but to think about how much better everything would be if it was fall or spring, or maybe even winter. But not summer. Not when it’s over 100 degrees outside and the chance of me getting skin cancer when I step outside for a few seconds is high.

 My  eyes strain against the words on the assigned summer reading book but I can not focus. Too often, another drop of sweat slips into my eye or drops onto the page of the book. I change my sitting position, now lying on the wooden ground which seems to be the coolest place in the whole house.

The shuffling noises downstairs gets louder and soon, I hear someone climbing up the steps. It creaks loudly, and squeaks when they reach the top.

Becca swings the door open, panting as if she had just finished a 10k marathon outside. The sporadic exercise session she just had from the stairs pools her face in sweat, as well as the heat.

I don’t look at her or acknowledge upon her presence in my room. I block out her heavy pants easily, just like I could for her words.

“When,” she catches her breathe, “is this going to end?” In the corner of my eye, I watch her as she bends over with her hands on her knees before collapsing entirely on the floor.

I turn fully and see that she has already done her makeup which is now sliding off and is under a sheen of sweat.

“What are you doing?” She snaps her head up and I look away, pretending to be very interested in turning my page.

“Why don’t you go do something productive? You haven't done one good thing this summer! Heck, you haven't done anything good your whole life!"

She sits up and I try not to laugh when she struggles with it. Her face is ten shades darker than her neck and her eyes look like as if a three old used her as a canvas for finger painting.

"Go fix this damn heat wave! Get help! Do something!" she shouts.

“No one is outside. We can’t fix it. I can’t fix it.” I say sternly.

Becca lets out a huff of angry air, like a bull. She attempts to stand up but when it’s clear the heat has the best of her, she slides/crawls to me and yanks my book out of my hand. I sit up just as the book goes flying from her hands, and towards the end of the room and out the window. I hear the faint sounds of grass rustling as it hits the ground.

“What the hell? That’s for school!” I shout, getting up. I will not go outside and get it.

“I don’t give a shit about what’s for school or not. You’re failing anyway. Maybe if you were smart enough, you’d be able to fix this whole situation!” She throws her arms up in the air and manages to stand up finally. She breathes heavily on my face.

“Go do something productive you dumb little girl.” She growls before stepping away. She turns slowly, as if ready to hear my comeback, towards the door. “Too bad your father didn’t have brains either.”

Suddenly, my feet are off the ground and I'm pushing against her back, knocking her over with so much force that I have to repeatedly blink before my vision returns. I cringe at the scent of her heavy perfume and smoke clogs up my nose.

“Don’t you dare talk about him that way!” I shout loudly enough for everyone in this whole damn neighborhood to hear. Even my own voice sounds strange to me.

Becca screams under the weight of me and rolls over onto her back, knocking me down against the wood floor that doesn't feel as comfortable as it did before. I may be smaller than her, but I’m wiser, and faster.

As soon as I see her contorted face coming at me, I slap my hand across it. My hand stings and sticks slightly from the sweat. My whole body burns, but not in a good way.

As soon as she recovers, she grabs my shoulders with her wide heavy arms on each side. I try to pull them away but struggle from all of the weight she’s using. My bones sag and crack under the pressure.

 She shoves me back so hard that I don’t stop until I hit the back wall and hear my spine crack against it. Pain shoots up my body as if I'm lit on fire.

 I crumple onto the ground and quickly try to regain my vision. My head pounds as fast as my eyes blink.

Becca’s face is redder than I’ve ever seen it, makeup or no makeup. And I’m surprised she hasn’t passed out yet; for a very obese woman she sure can put of a fight. The look set on her face tells me that she’ll hit me again. She isn't done with me. But I'll never be done with her.

She charges towards me as my numb hands search the ground for anything, something. I stop when a sharp sliver of wood pokes me and the idea comes at me so fast. Using both hands I haul the loose piece of wood up, high above me and lock my arms so that it won’t collapse on me. 

Becca runs at me again, her arms out and fat shaking. 

I  bend my arms over my hand and swing it hard over me, onto Becca’s face. I let go of the heavy piece of wood, my hands aching. Becca's head snaps back with a crack that makes me cringe.

She stumbles backwards and falls on to the ground and the piece of wood does the same besides her, echoing even after she stops breathing.

My breaths come in fast and unsteady, but I push myself up, using the wall for support. My body is shivering although it is hot and my body is consumed in heart. I am suddenly aware of the sweat collection on the nape of my neck and the stickiness under my arm pits. I push my hands back through my hair, ignoring the fact that I can feel them shake on top of my head.