Hopeless(89)

I look at my phone being held tightly in her hands. She hits a button and holds up the screen to face me. “And what the hell kind of texts are these, Sky? They’re awful. He says awful, vile things to you.” She drops the phone onto the bed and reaches for my hands, grasping them. “Why would you allow yourself to be with someone who treats you this way? I raised you better than this.”

She’s no longer raising her voice. Now she’s just playing the part of concerned mother.

I squeeze her hands in reassurance. I know I’ll more than likely be in trouble for having the phone, but I need her to know that the texts aren’t at all what she thinks they are. I actually feel a little silly that we’re even having this conversation. When I compare this issue to the new issues I’m facing, it seems a little juvenile.

“Mom, he’s not being serious. He sends me those texts as a joke.”

She lets out a disheartened laugh and shakes her head in disagreement. “There’s something off about him, Sky. I don’t like how he looks at you. I don’t like how he looks at me. And the fact that he bought you a phone without having any respect for my rules just goes to show you what kind of respect he holds for other people. Regardless of whether or not the texts are a joke, I don’t trust him. I don’t think you should trust him, either.”

I stare at her. She’s still talking, but the thoughts inside my head are becoming louder and louder, blocking out whatever words she’s trying to drill into my brain. My palms instantly begin sweating and I can feel my heart pounding in my eardrums. All of her beliefs and choices and rules are flashing in my mind and I’m trying to separate them and put them into their own chapters, but they’re all running together. I pull the first thought out of the pile of questions and just flat out ask her.

“Why can’t I have a phone?” I whisper. I’m not even sure that I ask the question loud enough for her to hear me, but she stops moving her mouth so I’m pretty sure she heard me.

“And internet,” I add. “Why don’t you want me accessing the internet?”

The questions are becoming poison in my head and I feel like I have to get them out. It’s all beginning to piece together and I’m hoping it’s all coincidence. I’m hoping she’s sheltered me my whole life because she loves me and wants to protect me. But deep down, it’s quickly becoming apparent that I’ve been sheltered my whole life because she was hiding me.

“Why did you homeschool me?” I ask, my voice much louder this time.

Her eyes are wide and it’s obvious she has no idea what is spurring these questions right now. She stands up and looks down at me. “You aren’t turning this around on me, Sky. You live under my roof and you’ll follow my rules.” She grabs my phone off the bed and walks toward the door. “You’re grounded. No more cell phones. No more boyfriend. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

She slams my door shut behind her and I immediately fall back onto the bed, feeling even more hopeless than before I walked through my front door.

I can’t be right. It’s just a coincidence, I can’t be right. She wouldn’t do something like this. I squeeze the tears back and refuse to believe it. There has to be some other explanation. Maybe Holder is confused. Maybe Karen is confused.

I know I’m confused.

I take off my dress and throw on a t-shirt, then turn out the light and crawl under the covers. I’m hoping I wake up tomorrow to realize this whole night was just a bad dream. If it’s not, I don’t know how much more I can take before my strength is completely diminished. I stare up at the stars, glowing above my head, and I begin counting them. I push everyone and everything else away and focus, focus, focus on the stars.





Dean walks back to his yard and he turns around and looks at me. I bury my head back into my arm and try to stop crying. I know they probably want to play hide-n-seek again before I have to go back inside, so I need to stop being sad so we can play.

“Hope!”

I look up at Dean and he isn’t looking at me anymore. I thought he called my name, but he’s looking at a car. It’s parked in front of my house and the window is rolled down.

“Come here, Hope,”the lady says. She’s smiling and asking me to come to her window. I feel like I know her, but I can’t remember her name. I stand up so I can go see what she wants. I wipe the dirt off my shorts and walk to the car. She’s still smiling and she looks really nice. When I walk up to the car, she hits the button that unlocks the doors.