Thursday, May 20, 2010

Chapter 1: Stacy's "Hell"

Stacy struggled to get her ten year old mind to understand half of what the teacher was yammering about as she dangled her short legs under her chair. The other students in her class fitted nicely in their desks, but she didn't mind. She loved to swing her legs back and forth. She reached back and pulled her strawberry blond hair off her neck. The tall, lanky teacher, Mrs. Morrist, called her name, "Stacy, do you think that the Sioux Indians had it right, and that we should believe like they do?" Fretting, She glanced around at the empty desk next to her. Her friend David was sick that day, so she couldn't glance at his notes for a clue. "And, please do stop swinging your legs! I shouldn't have to tell you again."



She scowled in her mind, Then, why don't you get me a desk that fits? Idiot! Why did she have to choose me now to understand what was being said? Sure, the Indians had some god like earth, but I don't understand their god, I only understand the one true god.

She spoke as confidently as she could muster, but the only thing that came out was barely intelligent stuttering, "I-I-I b-b-believe that they are wr-wrong. G-G-God is Jesus."

The teacher stared at her for a moment, then spoke, "We aren't here to discuss God, so you'll not mention him again! Do I make myself clear?"

"You mentioned g-g-god. If we c-c-can't talk about g-g-god then don't talk about indians g-g-god!"

"Go to the Principals office. I won't have any student talking back to me! Now march!"

Stacy looked up at her teacher, expecting a pass. None came her way. She turned on her heels, defiantly towards the door, reached out for the handle, stopped abruptly, and headed back to her seat. Deftly, she reached for her backpack under her chair, while she started pulling books out of the slot. She had made up her mind, she was leaving, as she was tired of the abuse and wanted no more of it. She fought back tears dwelling up inside her.

This wasn't the first time she got into trouble just because she couldn't comprehend. However, this was not the kind of abuse that she was sick of. Sure, it was pure hell trying to fit in and not anger the teacher, but was worse was how no matter who did what to her, it was always her fault. She got in trouble for fighting if Prissy gave her a bloody nose. Prissy never got into trouble for this. She thought about recess and how if she were to just stay long enough to fight Prissy for real, would it be worth it? Her thoughts were soon interrupted.

"I thought I sent you to the Principal's Office?" Mrs. Morrist spoke firmly, but with a gruff voice, that sound more like a man's voice, then that of a woman.

"Oh sh-sh-shut up!" Stacy tossed her books into her backpack, slammed her desk down, flicked her teacher, and stormed out. She took her things and slumped towards the Principals office, having made up her mind that the rest of the day could only get better. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have done that to a teacher, but she was confused as to why she was wrong, why what she said was considered "talking back", and didn't understand which indians those were. The word "Sioux" didn't make phonetic sense to her, which caused most of her issues. It would have helped if the teacher would have wrote the word on the board, but she was lazy. All this confusion caused a chemical imbalance in her as she still hadn't learnt how to deal with life when it was unfair. She walked right past the secretary and headed immediately into the Principal's office, interrupting a meeting in progress. The husky Principal, with his broad shoulders and neatly trimmed brown hair, sat smartly behind his mahogony desk. In front of him, on a faux leather chair, sat a tall man in a smart black business suit, with his long lanky fingers, eagerly holding out a text book towards the Principal, in anticipation of a badly needed sale. Stacy glanced at the textbook and rolled her eyes. She knew immediately, that it was a Gresma math book. Her dad had a preview copy. She used to look at it and laugh at how simple it was. The one in the man's hand was the one the company thought was perfect for 4th graders - the exact same one her dad had. She rolled her eyes at that textbook, sticking out her tongue in the process.

Ignoring her reaction to the text book, the Principal merely stated, "Hello, Stacy. I'll have to meet with you after school. Here, I'll give you a pass." Stacy solemnly took the pass not even bothering to say anything, as she knew that by the time she spit out even a simple 'Thank You', he would already be back to his meeting.

At lunch time, she couldn't even eat, her nerves were so bad. Stacy looked up to see if the lunchroom monitor was looking, then hustled to the garbage can, tossed her food, and plopped her tray on the counter top, where no one was there to grab it. They were still serving food. She made a beeline for the playground and hid behind a concrete tube that was meant for crawling through.

Closing her eyes, she attempted to visualize where her body was in relationship too where Prissy's face might be. Being that she was six inches shorter than Prissy, did not help matters any. She made a fist and then punched out at the air. Opening her eyes, she looked, trying to see if her hit was a good hit or not. She rolled her eyes, realizing that she would have no way of knowing what she did with her eyes closed. This time, she kept her eyes open while she punched the air. Everything happened quickly after that.

Prissy came over, raised her fist and struck it towards Stacy. Stacy instinctively, for once, Opened her hand up and pushed her palm into Prissy's nose and pushed upwards with as much force as she could muster. Blood squited everywheres. Shocked, Stacy took a step back. She had only meant to defend herself this time. Prissy reacted with violent force, using her entire body to swing the most powerful fist she could muster. On a bad day, her swing was very powerful and could do some serious damage. This time, however, she was going for blood.

Stacy turned to run away, caught the fist coming towards, out of the corner of her eye, and instinctively reached up high for the wrist. With a forceful and purposeful stomach contraction, she pulled her head towards her knees, and attempted to toss Prissy over her back, wishing to end this nonsense once and for all. She was manic and didn't care if all hell broke loose. If she was going to get into trouble, it was going to be for something she had done and not some stupid lie like all those times before. Her form was not flawless, but because Prissy had used so much force, Stacy easily threw Prissy over her back. Prissy landed with a thud that resounded an echo through the ears that were there, scaring their owners into a frozen existence.

Despite her best efforts, Stacy froze too. Her thoughts raced in a tornadic twirl inside. Whats going on? Is she okay? Why can't I move? What will happen to me now? How can I have done what I've done? My mind never communicates properly with my hands. How long will this last? Is my mind healed?

Students started running out onto the playground. Monitors slowly walked outside, chatting away, oblivious to what had just transpired while Prissy lay motionless on the ground. Stacy had all she can do to stop herself from stomping on Prissy's stomach, like Prissy had done to her so many times before.

Thoughts raced through Stacy's mind, Where would she go? What would become of her? Would she ever see David again?

She turned to run away once more, but turned the wrong way, stepped hard on Prissy, right over the heart, and quickly kept going, not daring to look behind lest she learn of Prissy's fate. Prissy was not breathing. Her comrades stared in disbelief, still frozen in fear.

Stacy ran into the school door, forgetting to open it first. She opened the door, ignoring her now red and hurting nose and continued running down the hallway. She quickly grabbed her school stuff, slammed her desk down, not caring who heard. With her heart in her throat, she darted towards the door and down the hallway in the opposite direction of the playground. A voice was heard calling after her to slow down. Ignoring it, she rounded the corner, and made a beeline for the door, opening it without once slowing down her stride.

* * *

She peered left and then right before darting across busy roads. If a light was red, she would simply run across the other way, not caring which way she went, as long as she was going in the general direction she intended. A cop raced towards her with his lights flashing. She glanced to her right, looking for an alley way. Houses lined the street with their 3 foot high fences, providing a fake attempt at security. She opened up a gate to a house whose owner she knew was out of town. An elderly coupled lived here, and often went South when School began, to beat the rush to avoid the snow. She slowed her walk and pretended to be heading towards the side door. The police officer raced passed her. Stacy quickened her pace, and headed towards the back and out into the alley beyond.

The thought occurred to her that she could not go home, now that she was only a block away. Quickly, she switched directions, and ran in the direction of David's house, and unfortunately, the direction the police car had taken. She had often followed him home, being careful to keep her distance. He always kept his distance from her in school, but would let her copy his notes, positioning it in such a way that made it easy for her to read. She knew he loved her, but was at a loss as to how she knew this. Perhaps it was all a delusion based on her need for love, for acceptance, in a world devoid of such luxuries.

Stacy knocked on the door, praying that David's mother would answer, and that they wouldn't be at the doctor's or something. The door opened before Stacy could even collect her thoughts. It was David's mother.

Mrs. Steinkopf was a tall, thin, beautiful dark brown haired lady. She looked like she could be Italian or perhaps Jewish or of Hispanic decent. "Hello, is school out already? Did the teacher ask you to bring David's homeworkhome?" Stacy's mouth went dry as she tried in vain to stop the tears from filling her eyes. "I'd ask you in, but I don't want you to catch..." She stopped abruptly, realizing, that the little girl who stood before her needed help. "Oh come on in. Catching whatever David has is probably the least of your worries. Come, have a seat on the couch and tell me all about it."

Stacy forced her feet to move in the direction of the couch in the other room, while Mrs. Steinkopf closed the door. Another police siren whirled by, and then an ambulance was heard. Stacy could not fight back the tears any longer. She plopped herself face down into the couch and wailed. David, who had been wondering who was at the door, decided to chuck the rules, and scampered down the hall and into the living room.

"Stacy! What happened?" David rushed to her side. He wanted to hug her so badly, but did not dare. He didn't want his mother to know how he really felt about her. Thoughts of his secret business flooded his mind. It was then that he realized what he had to do. His business was for her. Now was just not the time. He turned to his mother, "I think something really bad happened at school."

Now this was no surprise to Mrs. Steinkopf. She knew that this girl may look younger than she really was, but she was definately of school age and was supposed to have still been at school. She quietly turned on the news, just in case it really was that bad. Turning towards Stacy, she grabbed the facial tissues off the side table, and handed one to David. David nudged Stacy into a sitting position and helped her blow her nose.

Mrs. Steinkopf sat down on the other side of Stacy, and gently cuddled her. "When you are ready, you can tell me all about it."

David wasn't sure they had that much time, so he asked, "Just nod yes or no. Was it the teacher?" Stacy nodded yes and no. This alarmed David. "Mom, its serious."

He quickly got up and grabbed his notebook off the top of his desk, and ran into the living room. He grabbed the pen off of the newspaper sitting on the coffee table, and handed both the notebook and pen to Stacy. She wrote.

Prissy hit me. I did ? but she on floor. Blood. No think.

David took the cryptic notes and read it to his mother, reading instead what he thought Stacy meant, instead of what she actually wrote. "Prissy hit Stacy. Prissy is a bully at school, and has hit Stacy in the nose before, but only Stacy got in trouble for fighting. This time, however, Stacy fought back, and caused Prissy to bleed. Prissy ended up on the floor, bleeding. Stacy is having a hard time thinking and gathering her thoughts."

Mrs. Steinkopf looked at the cryptic notes. "That was amazing. Well, it does help to know a little bit about the characters involved of course."

Stacy grabbed the notebook and wrote, I stepped on her trying to get away. I go wrong way. Not mean too. She go over my back. She hit me but I take wrist and she go over back. Teacher mad because I mention God in answer teacher ask. I sent to principals office. I not eat lunch. Not hungry. I go out side and practice hitting. Prissy comes to me and hits to me but I put hand up and get her nose. blood. She hit me when I turn to run. I grab wrist and she go over back. she on ground, not floor. She not move. I scared. They scared. The other 2 people. I run in wrong way and step on Prissy. Maybe get heart. It not soft like stomach, but not hard like chest. I run, grab books and run here.

She handed the revised story to David. He moved the notebook so he and his mother could read it together. A loud rap was heard upon the door. Mrs. Steinkopf got up to answer it. Stacy immediately hid her face in David's chest. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped her in it.

Hearing a man's voice, he threw the blanket off of her, and hustled her out the back door. He didn't care if he was in his Pajama's or not as he had already made up his mind. They ran out the backdoor, with him shutting it as quietly as he could. They ran into the woods, jumping over fallen logs. Stacy tripped a couple of times, as her legs were too short to keep up with David's longer legs. They soon came to the creek, where a previous storm had made the water higher and more dangerous than what was normal for a creek. He deftly picked her up in his arms and carried her across, being careful to avoid all the wet rocks. He piggy-backed her on his back, so he could balance better as he climbed the small embankment on the other side. Looking up towards the sky, he prayed for rain, to cover their tracks. Heading back into the woods once more, he veered towards the North-West, to his secret hiding place where he kept his most prized possessions from the other life he led.

He looked for the tree with the hole in it that housed a family of Squirrels. The familiar chattering of the squirrels alerted him, as if warning him to not go any further, or you'll miss your turn. He turned to the left, while Stacy held on for dear life, not knowing what to expect, nor where they were heading. He stopped a few hundred feet later and moved some vines off to the side, exposing a small old shed that had long lost its usefulness. He opened the door and went inside. The cramped quarters was barely large enough for 2 people to change clothes in.

David opened up a suitcase and took out tanning lotion that had been altered to color their skin so that they would appear Jewish. They applied it before changing into their new outfits. David put on his Tallit Katan, a traditional outfit worn by male orthodox Jews. Tallit Katans serve to hold tzitzit in the four corners. Tzitzit are strings that has been wrapped and knotted in a special way. The purpose for Jews was for them to look upon from time to time to remind themselves to not break any of the 613 commandments in the Torah. David used it to make him appear more Jewish than he felt. He took out some hair coloring gel, and colored Stacy's hair a Jewish black, as opposed to a Goth look black. He then applied some to his hair, before taking out his Orthodox curls, called Peyos. He attached them to his head with barrettes, being careful to hide the barrettes under hair, before attaching a black hat.

After they were both properly dressed and could face each other again, he helped her apply make-up so that she would appear to be 21 years old, instead of 10. He took out special tape for reshaping eyebrows, and quickly made her eyebrows have a more stylish pointed look, resembling what a celebrity might don. He then reshaped his eyebrows to have an even more pointed look. He took their old clothes, roughly folded them, and then shoved them into a plastic bag of what appeared to contain dirty laundry.

He put piggy-backed her once more, then left the shed for the last time. He moved the vines back into place, and then headed in the direction of the airport.

* * *

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