Thursday, December 22, 2011


Lucy is back, and the marks left behind by her abusive stepfather are getting noticed.

Lucy:  Stupid Natalie, told Ms. Green that if I was going to wear sunglasses in school, then so was she, and then she put on these gi-normous glam glasses with rhinestones studded around big, darkened, owl eyes.  Ms. Green had no choice but to make us both take off our sunglasses, even though mine were small, just big enough to cover the black eye Keith gave me which I think Ms. Green might’ve guessed about because I’m always hiding something, or I’m really clumsy, neither of which excuses she buys.
So then, I have to go to the nurse, who of course calls my house and of course Mom is at work, but sweet, kind, generous (not) Keith, my very favorite stepdad, of course he’s home.  And he doesn’t act mean, he doesn’t say, “Leave the little bitch in school, what’s her black eye got to do with me?
He doesn’t say that. 
He says something sugary-sweet, like so sweet it rots inside you (me), he says he’s worried about me, and he’s coming to get me and to take me to the doctor, and he’s such a liar, and I don’t want to go, I can’t go!
But I have to.
He’s my “father”.
He has rights.
Like, the right to kick my ass!
The right to kill me if he wants.
I’m sure it will be all my fault.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Cherry (not her real name)

Cherry (not my real name): 
Secrets (rough draft)
I wear big earrings so people don’t think I’m a boy.  I throw up all the time, just because I’m anxious, I guess.  I’m not stuck-up, I’m just scared.  People scare me.  I don’t talk a lot, but it’s not because I don’t like you. I don’t really love my boyfriend, but I do have sex with him.  The boy I love is in college now, and I wrote him a letter saying I was so sorry he broke up with his girlfriend, but I’m not.  I pretend to like Kaylee Johnson, but I don’t, because she was his girlfriend.  I have never stuffed my bra with tissues or socks, but I wanted to.  I didn’t do it because I was hoping someone would touch me there, would want to touch me, and what if he only touched a sock imitation and not the real me?  Sometimes – no always – it feels like my boyfriend isn’t touching the real me.
To be continued…