• CHAPTER 2

    I could hear the music from down the street, maybe Tim was right, and I should sit this one out. But somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
    It was like… You get nervous before a big run or something, and want to back out, but after you see that starting line, all the people there, you’re pumped. You’re in it to win it, or whatever stupid catchphrase they come up with nowadays.
    I was in this party to just chill, get away from home, and there was nothing anybody was going to do about it. Even Tim.
    Matt and Heather immediately disappeared, probably to find a room or some beer. I found myself just being pushed around, ending up at the coolers. I pulled out the first thing my hand touched as I reached in, my way of saying, that was the only thing I could find, and pulled out a beer.
    All right, I had had beer before, but I hadn’t lost control or anything, I always made sure of that. So what was there to lose? It’s not like anybody would know. Today was different; I could feel it in my bones. I felt frustrated at Heather’s constant taunts, Tim’s constant watching over me. I wish I could just be like everyone else and enjoy the party, no cares in the world. Which was what I did, only I couldn’t really tell.
    I just danced with the people, letting myself just flow with the music. This is about as much fun as it could get in my screwed up life, I thought as I drank more beer. And I let myself lose to the beast.

    I woke up… in the car. I still had all my clothes on, thank goodness, but I realized I wasn’t at the party anymore, and I had a pounding headache. “You are so stupid. Getting drunk like that, what were you thinking? You are so lucky I bailed you out of there; you know Heather and the others are probably in jail right now. The cops busted that party Britt.” Tim said his face twisted in anger.
    I actually felt myself start to cry, what HAD I done? But I felt nauseous. I opened the side door and hurled in somebody’s yard. Sure, I felt bad for the yard, but it was their fault… or was it mine?
    “You don’t feel a thing do you?” He asked, as I hung outside the car, limp like a stalk of celery. “You’re so selfish!”
    “You think I don’t care?!” I started to yell, lifting my head to look at him, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Who cared if it smelled? “Well I do. I’m thinking about how much trouble they’re gonna get in, and how much trouble we all being in. I feel like someone just poured UFO juice down my throat, so if you could give me a gosh darn minute and CHILL OUT, that would be WONDERFUL.” I screamed, feeling hot. I rolled up my sleeves and pulled off my bandana. Big mistake.
    Maybe I still wasn’t all in control of my head, cause that was the most idiotic thing I had probably done in my entire life.
    “Oh my word Britt.” Tim breathed.
    That’s when I started to cry.
    In my harsh lifestyle I had picked up a few bad habits, like cutting myself. I limited myself to when I felt like I couldn’t breath, like I was going to suffocate, or run away. I think cutting was the only thing that really kept me in this town. But I limited myself, because I knew how addicting it could be.
    My bandana hid how I was pulling out my hair. If I couldn’t go into the bathroom to cut, I would start to scream or cry, lace my hands through my hair, and just tug on it. It was only around the bottom edges now, so I was able to hide it with my bandana, but it was getting harder and harder to hide.
    “Why didn’t you tell anyone? I knew it was bad at home, but not this bad! You should have told me, or anybody, I would understand.”
    “No you wouldn’t Tim! You don’t understand anything! Your family loves you. Heck it’s your real family. Just drive me home, please. I just wanna go home.” I clutched my stomach, feeling close to puking again.
    “Can you make it to a gas station?” He asked franticly.
    I shook my head. I opened the door and ran into the house, still not having my bandana on. “Bathroom!” I gurgled to the woman that came out. Looking at me like I was nuts. She just pointed.
    I darted in and clutched onto the toilet, feeling worse than crud on someone’s shoe. Why had I ever gotten drunk?
    Tim came in and massaged my back. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, we’ll get through this Britt.”
    “You okay?” He whispered as I stood back up. He handed me a napkin to wipe my face and blow my runny nose.
    “No.” I whimpered.
    “Do you wanna go home?” I clutched his arm and shook my head franticly. “I wasn’t going to make you, clam down.” He put his hand on my head like I was a dog. “You can come to my house until this wears off, but you’re going to have to go home some time.” I started to cry again, mostly out of fear of what Ben would do to me, what Missy would say. “We’ll get through this Britt, okay? Trust me. We’ll be okay. Now no crying, you’ve gotta stay strong, no crying.” He repeated this, wiping under my eyes with his thumbs. “Come on now, we’re going to go to my house. You’ll be okay.”
    He coached me out of the house and into the car like you would coach a nervous puppy back to his mommy. He repeated the same things over and over, but he was sincere and loving each time he said it, which never faded.
    “Do you trust me?” He asked, helping me buckle into the passenger seat. I felt limp, like I couldn’t do anything on my own, like I was going to melt into a pile of mush on the sidewalk without help,
    I nodded slowly. “I trust you.” And then I leaned back into the seat, closing my eyes, but telling myself not to fall asleep. But just telling yourself never really works, does it?




    Chapter 3

    “Tim, you said you didn’t hang around people like this. You assured me that even though you’re going to a public school you wouldn’t do anything like this!”
    “Mom, she’s just lost, okay? Trust me on this one, she’s a wonderful girl.”
    “She doesn’t look so wonderful when she’s lying, passed out, mind you, on our guest room bed!”
    “You said you wouldn’t freak out like this,”
    “Yeah mom, cut him some slack, at least he didn’t bring home some hooker from the party he went too. That’s good.”
    “Kenny, you’re not helping things!”
    “Kenny go to your room.”
    “Hey Tim, to the next party you go to can you bring a sexy, drunk, girl my age home? I’d be greatly obliged buddy old pal.”
    “Go to your room!”
    “Remember me old chum… OW. I’m going!”
    “Do you even know her name?”
    “Of course I do! It’s Brittney.”
    “Brittney what?”
    “Now mom, don’t overreact.”
    “WHAT’S HER LAST NAME TIM?”
    “Hooker.”
    “She’s Ben and Missy’s daughter?!”
    “No. Well, yes. But she’s their foster daughter. Her life is so bad, mom. If I was her I would be partying my brains out, just to get away from it all.”
    “Do NOT say that you would party your brains out in my house young man!”
    “Mom I just was using an example. Just please, listen to her.”
    “Fine. But until I hear her side, you’re confined to this house. After I hear her story, I’ll decide your punishment. Now go see if she’s up yet.”
    “Yes ma’am.” I heard footsteps; I pushed myself up into a sitting position on the bed, rubbing my eyes.
    “Ah, you’re up, feeling better?” Tim asked, coming in the room.
    “Much. Thank you Tim, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble or anything.” I said quietly, looking down at my dirty fingernails.
    “Ah? You heard that? Don’t worry about her; she’s just getting all motherly. It’ll pass in a while. Anyways, you think you feel up to explaining this to her?”
    “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
    “Why not?” He asked, shooting me a confused look.
    “Word gets around town, they’ll hear it, and I’ll be in more trouble then I’m already in. Besides, what if she alerts the authorities? I’ll be taken away and I won’t be able to live here anymore. As much as I hate my home life, I worry about Sidney and Mandy; I can’t just leave them to go save my own butt. Plus all the friends I’ve made, what about them, they’re probably in jail right now. They have bad lives too, I don’t deserve how nice you’ve been.”
    Tim sat down on the bed, sighing. “She won’t tell anyone, trust me Britt, I’ve told her not to. And to make you feel better everyone’s bailed out and at home right now. Fay’s and Kevin’s parents were blowing a gasket, but they all got home safe.”
    “What’s their punishment?” I dared myself to ask.
    “Just some community service.”
    I nodded silently. “Can I take a shower before I talk to your mom?” I asked quietly
    “Sure. I don’t see why not. Right handle is hot, left is cold. In the cabinet should be some supplies you can use.” He informed me.
    “Thanks.” I said, heading into the bathroom and grabbing toiletries from the cabinet. I took a long, hot shower trying to relax as I shampooed my thinning hair. I knew enough to know that some hair was coming out from stress, and that I should try to relax whenever I could unless I wanted to be bald. Which I didn’t, who would? I knew I couldn’t stay in there forever, so I got out and slowly towel dried, stalling for all I was worth. I swished some water in my moth, trying to get rid of the horrible taste, and the smell.
    It felt wrong going back into my old, dirty clothes, but it was all I had. I washed my bandana off as much as I could, though, because I knew it would probably be awhile until I got a chance to take it off again.
    When I stepped out, I felt better about talking. Oh sure I still had butterflies, but I kept thinking to myself I can do this; I’ll prove Tim doesn’t have bad friends. I’ll prove that though I may be a Hooker to the outside world, I’m a beautiful girl inside. I’m nothing like them.
    That was until I saw his mom, a nice looking woman in faded jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. She looked very stylish, if I do say so myself. I wondered how fast I could flee to the bathroom, three steps? Maybe four?
    “Sit down.” She instructed, and I obeyed.
    “Ma’am, before you say anything I want to say thank you for letting me into your home. I appreciate how nice you’ve been, I don’t deserve it.”
    I knew I caught her off guard when she said, “Oh, why your welcome. Miss…”
    “Brittney.” I informed her, even though she already knew that.
    “Right, Brittney. Now, I’ve heard stories about your life, and I just want you to explain to me what goes on there, is that alright?”
    “Can I have your word that you won’t tell anyone, including social services? Because, ma’am, though I may have a hard life, I enjoy staying here more than in some stuffy orphan edge.”
    “You have my word.” She promised.
    “I’ll give you as condensed version as possible. I live with my foster sisters, Mandy and Sidney, ages seventeen and a half, and six. My foster mother is an alcoholic, that doesn’t abuse us physically, like our foster dad, but more emotionally.” I hesitated on weather to talk about my arms and hair, but I decided to tell her. She swore she wouldn’t tell, so I had nothing to lose. “I’m a cutter on my arms, and I pull my hair out. I do this, pretty much out of desperation for control.”
    “I’m so sorry.” She said quietly.
    “It’s alright, I can live through it. But I’d like to go home now, if you don’t mind.”
    “Alright, whenever you need somewhere to go, we’re here, alright honey?”
    “I’ll remember that.” I forced a smile, nodding. But I seriously doubted I would come here unless something serious happened, and I’d have to bring Sidney and Mandy then. She probably wouldn’t appreciate that.