Why Me? (11 page)

“I’m so sorry about what your mom is doing to you. If you need a place to stay for a while, you can stay here. No pressure to do anything.”

My heart soared. I had found my way out! I had found my knight in shining armor to rescue me from the evil queen. My eyes filled up with tears, and I buried my face in Matt’s shoulder.

“Thank you so much,” I said softly. “You have no idea …”

“Don’t think twice about it. Let’s get back to everyone else,” Matt said. He pulled away, grabbed my hand, and headed back to Billie Jo and the others.

After my talk with Matt, I finally relaxed and ended up having the best night of my life. My new friends and I spent the night playing card games, drinking a little bit, watching movies, and lying under the stars talking for what seemed like hours.

As I lay on the ground with my hands behind my head, gazing up at the stars, I thought of my mother. I thought about how angry she must be right now and how I had truly defied Mom for the first time in my life. I thought of
Dale
Richard
and wondered if he was worried about me or if he was just ignoring the situation while Mom ranted and raved all night. Then I thought of
Rachel
Emily
and the hell she must be going through right now with Mom. When I thought of my sister, I became sad. “If I’m not there anymore, Mom will just start beating her up,” I thought to myself.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. “Should I go home? Should I just suck it up and face the music?” I wondered. Who knew what lay in store for me the next day? I planned to go to school tomorrow, hitching a ride with Billie Jo. Would Mom be there? Would she be waiting for me at the door? I started to imagine seeing my mother at school and what she would do or say. Would Mom drag me home by the hair? Would anyone at school step up and save me?

“Hey, beautiful!”

I snapped out of my trance and looked up. Matt was kneeling next to me with a smile on his face. “You OK?” he asked.

Any thought I had of going home that night left my mind. Just hearing someone call me beautiful made me happy beyond belief. “I’m fine,” I said as I got to my feet.

I followed Matt and Billie Jo across the yard into the house. “It’s late,” yawned Billie Jo. “You ready to crash?”

I looked nervously at Matt. As if he were reading my mind, he said, “Why don’t you two take the spare bedroom? Everyone else is crashing in the living room.”

I gave Matt a hug and followed Billie Jo into the bedroom. After we had washed up and changed into some T-shirts to sleep in, we lay in bed together and stared at the ceiling.

“You nervous about your Mom?” Billie asked.

“Yeah. I don’t know what to expect tomorrow,” I replied.

“We have your back. We won’t let her get you!” Billie Jo said.

This declaration from Billie Jo made me feel better, although I found it a bit absurd and unrealistic. No one had ever been able to stop Mom! But I felt better knowing that people understood me and believed the stories I told about my mom. The knot in my stomach loosened a bit, and I was able to close my eyes and go to sleep.

“Sarah! Sarah!” I blinked and opened my eyes to see Billie Jo in my face. “We have to go to school! Here, just wear this shirt and your jeans.” Billie Jo was talking a mile a minute as I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. As I looked around the room, it occurred to me that I really hadn’t gone home last night. I had run away, successfully! There were no problems, no police, no Mom. Maybe this really was it. I cheerfully bounced out of bed and ran a brush through my hair.

“Sarah, we have to leave in like five minutes to make it on time!” Billie Jo was running a curling iron through her hair and applying mascara at the same time.

“Jesus, let me get dressed!” I said. The next five minutes were a blur of clothes, makeup, and hairbrushes as Billie Jo and I frantically tried to make it out the door on time.

Just as we made it to the front door, it occurred to me that I hadn’t thanked Matt for the place to crash and for being so nice to me. “I have to say good-bye to Matt!” I told Billie Jo.

“We don’t have time, come on! I’ll bring you back tonight!” Billie Jo said impatiently.

Billie Jo and I ran out to her truck and hopped in. Just as we were pulling out of the driveway, we heard a loud whistle. Matt had run out of the house and was sprinting toward the truck.

“No good-bye?” he yelled.

He got to the truck and walked up to my window. I rolled it down, and Matt leaned in and kissed me on the lips. “Come back tonight,” he said. Without another word, he sprinted back up the driveway into the house.

Billie Jo looked over at me and grinned. “He really likes you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone before,” she said.

“I can’t get over it!” I exclaimed. “What’s he really like? Tell me stories.”

So for the entire drive to school, Billie Jo chattered on and on about how she had met Matt, what kind of girls he had dated before, and any other information she found pertinent. I spent most of the ride doubled over in laughter as Billie Jo shared stories about Matt. By the time Billie Jo pulled into the school parking lot and shut off her engine, I had forgotten all about my mom or any repercussions I would face that day. I happily hopped out of the truck and then heard Billie Jo say,

“Whoa, the cops are here.”

My heart fell and my legs started shaking. Billie Jo turned to me with a look of fear on her face. “Shit, what the hell is going on?”

I knew that the police were there for me. I knew my mom was going to do whatever she had to in order to control me and squash my new rebellious attitude. The thought of running away crossed my mind, but I knew my mother would expect me to do something like that. “I won’t show her I’m weak!” I resolved.

“Find me after school,” I said to Billie Jo. I slammed the passenger door on Billie’s truck and marched through the parking lot into the front door of the school.
             
Just as I had expected, standing there waiting for me were Mom, a Bureau County sheriff, and the school principal. Mom was standing at the top of the steps with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. I looked her right in the eyes, almost defiantly, and held her gaze.
             
“Sarah, where were you last night?” asked my principal.

Without breaking my gaze from my mother’s eyes, I answered, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I knew I sounded disrespectful, but at that point I didn’t care. My mother had conned two people who should have been protecting me, my principal and a sheriff, into believing that I was a truant, a runaway, and that I should be punished. What did it matter what I said to these people now?

“What do you want done, Mrs. Burleton?” the sheriff asked Mom.

“I want her arrested. Teach her a lesson!” retorted Mom. She broke her gaze from mine to look directly at the sheriff.

The sheriff cocked his head and gave Mom a confused look. He said, “Why don’t we just leave her here for the day, and you make sure she comes home after school?”

Mom shook her head defiantly. “NO! Absolutely not! She is a threat to me and my family. She is smoking, on drugs, and running away now. I want her OUT!”

I looked at Mom and shook my head. Now she was accusing her own daughter of being a drug addict and begging the police to arrest her. I wanted to rush up the stairs and hit Mom as hard as I could, to make her hurt like she always made me hurt. But I smartly chose to stand quietly as the sheriff walked toward me. “Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered in a low voice.

A crowd of students had gathered behind Mom at the top of the stairs. I glanced up at their shocked faces and at Mom standing in front of them with her arms crossed and a look on her face that plainly said, “I won!” Then I couldn’t bear to look anymore. I hung my head and allowed the sheriff to lead me out of the school to his patrol car.

After the sheriff had loaded me into the back of the patrol car and pulled away, he turned around and said, “Get a good look, because this will probably be the last time you see this place.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

“You’re probably headed to a foster home,” he answered and then turned back around.

I sat back in my seat and leaned my head on the headrest. “Whatever happens, happens. Whatever it takes, I’ll be OK if I don’t have to live at home anymore,” I thought to myself. At this point, anything—even a foster home—would be better than living with that woman.

Not another word was spoken between the sheriff and me for the rest of the ride. We pulled up to the county jail, and the sheriff got me out of the back of his squad car and led me in. “Just sit in this holding cell until we figure out what to do with you,” he ordered, taking off my handcuffs.

I was put into a holding cell that was used as a drunk tank on weekends. The walls were brown, the sink was rusted, and the cot looked as if it had years of urine stains on it. But even in this horrible environment, I was encouraged. It wasn’t home; it wasn’t Mom. At least here I wouldn’t be beaten.

I sat on that urine-stained cot for what seemed like eight hours before the sheriff came back and opened the door. “Your father is here to collect you. Hope you stay out of trouble,” he said as he stepped aside to let me out of the holding cell.

I smiled at him and shook his hand as I walked past. At the end of the hallway, I saw
Dale
Richard
waiting for me. “At least Mom isn’t here,” I said to myself.

Dale
Richard
didn’t say a word as I approached; he just turned on his heel and headed toward the front door. I followed with trepidation, and the closer I got to
Dale
Richard
’s car, the more nervous I became. I didn’t know what to expect, what was going to happen to me. I felt like a caged lion looking for a way out.

Dale
Richard
got in and started the engine. I got into the passenger seat, pulled my legs up into my chest, and stared out the window to avoid any contact with
Dale
Richard
. My pulse was racing and I kept peeking at him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for a random punch or a tirade of insults to come at me.

“I’m in big trouble with your mother for getting you,”
Dale
Richard
finally said.

“Why did you get me?” I asked.

“I don’t want you in jail. It’s not right,” he said matter-of-factly.

For a moment, I felt sorry for
Dale
Richard
. I felt sorry that he had also been a victim of Mom’s for so many years. I wondered what kind of hell he had been put through, and how he would feel if he knew about all of Mom’s indiscretions. I thought of telling
Dale
Richard
right then and there about everything I knew and had witnessed Mom do, but then I remembered the last beating I’d gotten from that and decided against it. I had no idea what was going to happen when I walked through the door to the house, and I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire just yet.

Not another word was spoken for the rest of the ride. We came to a stop in the driveway of the house, and
Dale
Richard
got out and scurried inside. I took a deep breath, swallowed, and followed him.

When I walked through the front door,
Dale
Richard
was already seated on the couch watching television. Mom was sitting across from him in the recliner, tapping her foot and glaring at me. Sitting at the top of the stairs were several garbage bags filled with my clothes and personal belongings.

“God damn you for coming back! GOD DAMN YOU!” Mom shouted.

Something inside me snapped. I thought of Matt, my other new friends, and the life I could have, and rage filled my body. I picked up one of the garbage bags and threw it out the front door.

“Why have me arrested? If you want me gone, LET ME LEAVE!” I screamed at Mom.

“You fucking piece of shit!” Mom yelled and jumped up out of the recliner. As she approached me, time seemed to slow down. I didn’t duck and cover as I normally did; I stood my ground, with my fists balled up at my sides. Mom looked down at my hands and stopped in her tracks.

“Oh, big bad druggie Sarah is going to hit me now? OOOH, someone thinks she’s strong!”

I didn’t budge or blink. I wanted Mom to come at me, wanted her to take a swing at me, because I was ready to fight back.

“I’M A DRUGGIE!” I yelled. I saw
Dale
Richard
turn around on the couch to see what was going on. “Why don’t you tell
Dale
Richard
what a WHORE you are?”

Dale
Richard
stood up, and Mom shot him a piercing look. “Don’t you dare listen to her,
Dale
Richard
. She’s just trying to save her own selfish ass!”

I should have stopped; I should have left it at that, but I didn’t want to. I was done hiding my mother’s lies and being afraid. “The FS guy! The construction guy! The guy you bought the car from! The guy from the video store! COME ON!” I screamed back at my mother.