Cassie Huwit

Tears roll off my face. I went straight home and called Alice; she showed twenty minutes later with a bottle of vodka. I don't know why I'm crying, I just am.

Sam makes me feel powerless, so weak and flustered that I can't use my head and I hate it. Alice let me lie on her lap while my tears rolled down my face, I was stuck in my head; replaying the days events.

I can't handle how hot and cold Sam is with me. When it's hot, he is so kind and soft towards me then he is cold and aloof, it's harsh remarks or the cold shoulder. It reminds me too much of him.

"Are you ready to talk about him yet?" Am I? Alice doesn't know much about my childhood or my parents; just that I get scared easy, often flinching at the smallest stuff. Inhaling the oxygen around me, taking my time to stop my sobs. I sit up but I don't face Alice. One last breath before heading back into the shadowy depths of my memories.

To a child who knows no better than it's environment, yelling, punching and pain is all too normal. My mother did nothing to stop what was happening but didn't hesitant to become the victim of a crime that didn't target her.

My late father was a average man, build and type; he wasn't strong enough to hold up a car but enough to hurt a kid. The way my life went was quiet but loud at the same time, a breath taken in and out, barely making a sound. A crack was heard more than my cries but nothing was done, no change was made. My father took his anger out on me and my mother encouraged him; teachers took my bruises as clumsiness.

A sparrow in a tree can fly high and search low; it has freedom to roam as noisy or silent as it wishes. A sparrow can be beautiful whether it is scarred or not; mentally, physically. The markings of the bird make it more unique, more catching to the eye. The bird flaunts its ability to move away from the fat cats, laughing as it flies.

To capture the beauty of the creature is to take its freedom, its meaning of life.

It wasn't until I saw other girls with their parents, laughing and playing. Being told to be careful when you run, 'I love you', and held when you cry because you hurt your knee falling off your bike. No, no, I heard run because when I catch you; you'll wish you ran faster, 'I hate you', and "Shut up. You whine about nothing."

Parents kiss your sores better, not create them. Parents are happy you're alive, not full of regret.

My tear nearly choke me.

"Oh Cassie." Alice had pity in her eyes along with tears of her own.    I hate pity.      Alice just held me, whispering that she never knew, that she's sorry.

"Did Sam hit you?!" I look at her, brows furrowed, God it does sound like that, doesn't it. "No, my father was horrible to me and I was used to it, the pain, the hurtful words but what hurt the most, scared me the most, was when he hugged me or asked if I was ok." You could see the dots connecting in front of Alice's eyes.

"Hot and cold." I nodded, Alice poured two more drinks, one for her and the other for me; we sat in comfortable silence. Alice is the only person I've ever told my story too.

Alice and I fell asleep curled up next to each other on the couch. I guess talking about it brought it all back full speed because I was shaken awake by Alice.

"Cassie, it's a nightmare, c'mon you're scaring me, wake up Cassie." My eyes widened and shut as the overhead light was too much to bare.

2.51am.

"God I'm so sorry Ally." Alice isn't the overly physically affectionate type so I was stunned when she hugged me - tight. She told me I can go to my bed, give her more room on the couch so I slugged my way and crawled on top of my cold, crisp bed. Eyes shut and the day faded into the past.

When I woke up, I contemplated calling in sick at work or saying my hand hurt to much. I really didn't want to see Sam, not after yesterday, not ever.

Alice offered to call in sick too so she could keep me company but I told her that I can't fake sick on the first week, and besides the more money, the better, right?

Alice went out and got us large coffees before heading out again for work. I pulled out the Palmer's cargo pants, that I had forgot to wash, off of the chair in my living room; I was glad it wasn't the soaked pair.

When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I looked drained of all life, hair raised, eyes dark, and skin incredibly dull. I could get the part for zombie #4 behind Simon Pegg.

I didn't care what path I took to work this morning, it all ended in the inevitable view of Sam's scowl. I don't bother looking behind me the second I step foot inside Palmer's as I just know I'll see him but I will say the tap on my shoulder shocked me, could he be trying to apologise for yesterday?

"Hey it's just gonna be you and the boys today." Vanessa?

"Oh... where's Sam?" His name on my tongue felt bittersweet.

"Huh? Oh, about that, Sam handed me his resignation yesterday." I couldn't help but feel sad. "You can leave early today, about 1pm. One of our delivery drivers was found dead this morning - they suspect a heart attack, so one less truck coming in today."

Weird.

Vanessa headed back into her office, just in time to pick up the ringing phone on the desk.

The day has been going way to slow. Trucks come and go, boxes are cut into and discarded, and the forklift beeps over and over again.

It all feels never-ending.

The boys tried to make me smile by putting boxes on their heads and spinning around till one of them fell over. It was hard not to laugh. "I'll never fall, I got luck on my side, Mikey." Not even two seconds after saying that Luke tripped and the box flew off, landing directly in front of Vanessa.

"Seriously boys?" She sounds like a tired mother of four.

"Clean your mess up and get back to work. All of you." She made eye contact with me for that last part. The boys really can make the day go faster, it's 12.32pm now.

I helped Luke and Mikey clean up the stack of empty boxes, placing them in the huge bin just outside the exist. By no time, it was 1pm. I went to my locker and collected my belongings when Vanessa tapped my shoulder again. She held an envelope in her hands, she rotated in her fingers by the edge of the crisp, yellow rectangle.

"Here's your pay for the week." She occupied a soft smile before turning around again. I shouted a joyful 'thank you' and roamed out the doors.

The air is slightly chilling. I should have brought a jacket. I opened the enclosed paper in one swift rip, reading through all the mumbo jumbo stuff till I see it. $1368.35. Eight and half hours for seven days is more than enough to pay rent and get groceries.

I jump and spin, gaining odd stares from people walking by, but I don't care.

Rather than walking home, I walked twenty minutes further to a Target close to my apartment. Palmer's is too expensive and my 10% staff discount isn't enough to cut costs.

I walk aisle to aisle looking for the cheapest stuff to last me until next week, I get apples and oranges - they don't rot as fast as other fruits. Value bread and butter, shampoo, conditioner, body wash - the usual necessities. Some snacks to last a couple days like pretzels and crackers, cheese, milk, and can't forget ice cream.

After all that I still have enough to put into my savings account incase I get caught out and really need money. Today couldn't have ended better.

I walked to a park bench and watched the birds dive, children squealing, and their parents chase them around the playground. There was a sale on chocolate bars and I couldn't resist getting one. The wrapper shined in the sunlight, hitting me right in the eye, I ate it quick because even though it is cold the sun is still melting all it touches.

It's started to get dark so I tossed the wrapper in the nearest blue bin and headed back home. The sun disappeared quicker than I thought it would, leaving me vulnerable in the middle of a dim street. People passed me by settling me nervous slightly, single men and woman, and the occasional couple giggling and holding hands. I had to quicken my pace when everyone abandoned me.

The sound of footsteps behind me, had me clutching my fists against my chest in fear, I quickly glanced back to find a big man in a dark hoodie speeding up. I started a quick jog that quickly turned into a sprint, I was beginning to get short of breath but I was too close to my apartment to stop now.

I grasped the rail of the stairs and threw myself up the steps, dashing towards my beaten door when I noticed it ajar. God please be you Alice.

The door creaked and moaned when I pushed it open further, the lock had clearly been smashed off the frame. I stepped over the shards of wood from the door and the frame, my coffee table had been flipped on it's side, the couch pushed back, and glass from last nights vodka bottle cover the wooden floors.

I don't know if I should be more scared, anger, confused, or all of the above. I don't even know if I should clean it up and get a new lock or call Alice, no I can't bother Alice at work, maybe I should call the cops or ask a neighbor for help, I haven't spoken to them before. Would they get mad? - annoyed at me?

I was too lost in my head, too caught up in thinking of my next steps that I didn't hear him come up behind me.

I just breathed in the sweet smell and allowed my body to close my eyes for me.

"I'm sorry Cassie."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE.

I will try to post 5 new chapters every time they are finished, this could be every week or every few days, I don't know as it can take a while to find time to edit :)

I've also just noticed that there are sentences or words that should have strikes, like lines through them but for some reason watty doesn't have that so all words and sentences with underlines please just pretend they are strikes.   Sorry :(