Scholastic Writing!

A Short, Short Fiction story
People Who Cared

Mother threw me against the wall, her mother’s drunken stench intensifying as she grew closer to my face, only a half inch away from touching noses. Mother’s hands clutched around my wrists, jamming them high against the wall behind me. I dare not move a muscle or even speak a word. My mother’s grasp would tighten as she spoke to her only daughter, threatening me once again.
My life could change but only I could do it. My best friend Leah and my closest teacher and wonderful friend Ms. Rettger have always been there for me through the toughest times. It took two years before Ms. Rettger gained my trust enough to see behind my confusing smile. Leah couldn’t always physically be there with me but she always, always, pulled me out of the storm and always gave me words of inspiration to keep going. Both of them knew what happened to me at home and both of them did all they could with the little power they had. They wanted my life to change for the better, but ultimately only I could do that, if I dared.
I had wanted to go to court against my mother for years but I could never bring myself to do it. What if the courts supported my mother? Life was bad now, but it would be impossible if I told the truth but still remained with my alcoholic mother. My two friends told me what I would have to do and they assured me a better life awaited than what I had now. What mother has done to me had taken its toll. I have been scarred mentally and physically. I am afraid.
Slam! The front door closes. The house is spotless. The dishes are done and put away. The counters are sanitized and spices are organized. All the furniture has been polished and the floors vacuumed. Everything is clean. I spent the entire afternoon cleaning up after mother’s drunken mess from the evening before.
“Get your ass out here!” she yells. My desk chair swivels as I leave the computer chair and place my unfinished book back on its shelf. I now stand before her, careful to keep my distance. “Right here!” She points directly in front of her. I move to the location she specifies without showing any emotion although I am reluctant to approach her and uncertain about what she might do this time. I think of Leah’s past guidance to stay calm. I have nothing to hide whatever she wants…. This too shall pass… Leah told me no matter what, to keep my mouth shut unless my mother asks any questions, then answer with a calm tone, no matter how scared or angry I am.
I see mother has been drinking again. Her eyes are bloodshot and she is growing very aggressive. There is also a six-pack of beer on the kitchen table. I look at my feet, gaining inner strength, bracing myself for anything and everything to come. I try to excuse my mother’s actions because of her drinking. She has drank all her life, my dad once said, before he walked out, leaving me to her doubtful mercy. I wonder where he is now and if he ever things of me.
In the living room, she tells me it’s my fault for everything that has happened. I am the reason she drinks. She tells me I do nothing around the house and nothing for her. I am a slut too she says. None of this relates in reality. I’m so confused…
Leah understood what I was going through; only she and Ms. Rettger really knew what happened behind the closed doors. Leah has been through the same if not worse circumstances. She too has been scarred. Because she was older than her two sisters she had a great responsibility, protecting her sisters. Her mom would endlessly insult her. She’d tell Leah that she was nothing to the world and nothing to her. Leah once told me that eventually she managed to escape but $30,000 left to her by her grandparents had been taken away from her to buy drugs and alcohol, as had fourteen years of her life. Leah loved me too much to let that happen to me. She didn’t want me to have to live on my own at the age of 14 like she had, needing an income to get herself through school. She knew what it was like to have no one to turn to in her adolescent years. She knew what it was like to go home and feel like no one cared that she had just aced a class that all they cared about was that the house and younger kids were taken care of. She knew what it was like to be unloved and hurt, Leah understood.

A month later I was scheduled to go to court to testify against my mother. Ms. Rettger had had enough. She knew I didn’t have the heart to do it myself and she couldn’t bear to see me come into school and cry to her anymore. She had to do something before I left that school; it was my last year with her. She told me she was going to do all she could and didn’t care if she got fired- she loved me. She had already been warned once to stay out of a student’s home issues but she couldn’t take it anymore.
Ms. Rettger wanted me to testify against mother. She promised that my mother could not hurt me, she would not allow it and neither would the legal system.
I was called to the bench and as I approached the witness chair every eye was on me. As I walked forward, I could feel my mother’s fury. She had told me once never to tell anyone about what she does or she would kill me. She can’t get me. She never can and she never will. I sit in the old brown chair behind the wooden desk. I search deep inside me in hope of some strength. Ms. Rettger and I meet eyes. In her eyes she seems to be telling me, “I love you. You can do this. I have faith in you. You can do this. It will soon be over.”
When I sat down after my story was told I had tears in my eyes. I did it! The worst is over!
A thirty-minute break later, the judge has made his decision for my fate. Leah and Ms. Rettger are on either side of me holding my hand. Ms. Rettger was the one who got me here. She spent every spare minute making phone calls to many people, social services, counselors, and other officials. I was able to get out of the house and stay with Leah until all way over. Mother was at the table beside me glaring at all three of us. I could feel her hate burning my skin.
“The decision had been made,” the judge says. “Other family members have been looked into and I have found that your grandmother will be in your best interest. As of today, Vicky A. Kilmer will be her legal guardian. Case closed!”
I am living with my grandmother now, and everything is much better. At first I was worried that maybe grandmother would just be an older version of my mother, but she isn’t. She is my mother’s mother, but it isn’t her fault that my mother is they way she is. Could it be the alcohol that has made my mother someone to both fear and pity? Could I ever end up like her? Is it in the blood? I resolve never to drink or even taste alcohol, ever! The hell I have lived through ends with me; I will not pass that legacy on to my children.



Poems:
Catnip

Around and around,
Up and down
Off the desk!
You little pest!
Around my feet,
Then around my seat
Watch out for baby Troy!
Chasin’ that catnip toy

Plop! He falls to the floor
Cat I can’t take this anymore
Out you go, with that toy of yours!
I need to finish all my chores.


David(based on the autobiographies the lost boy and My name is dave)

I’m not an “It”
I’m not “The boy”
I’m not your slave
And I’m not your toy
My name is David
I have a life,
I’m not threatened by the kitchen knife.
You’d strike me once
You’d strike me twice
Not one tear filled my eyes
Strike me three times, strike me four
I was as stiff as a concrete board.

You burnt me and beat me,
You’d insult me and not feed me.

I have won and you have not
I told the story of a boy who fought
I’m more than an “it”, more than “The Boy”,
More than your slave and more than your toy.

You can’t be me anymore
Because I escaped from your world.
You don’t control me
Like you once did
I’m not longer your little boy.

I’m grown up now
And I have a life
I even have a little kid and a beautiful wife
My Name is David.

My Hero
My friend and educator
She’s my counselor too
She’s done so much for me
What more could she do?
Her words of wisdom
Help me stay strong
When she talks to me
All my problems float away
Everywhere around me, no one else seems to care
But she, my hero, always and forever will linger near
She kept me alive and she kept me strong.
If it wasn’t for her
I’d probably be gone.
So thank you my dear teacher
For everything you’ve done for me
You are my hero
And forever you will be!