Betty's Phobia, chapter 1
Betty Luis walked from her locker to the exit of her school. She had grabbed her recorder, binder, and algebra textbook and stuffed them into her book bag. She swung it around one shoulder and continued to walk outside. The early summer sun air was hot on her back. In a few weeks, it would be summer and she'd be all alone again. She lived in a small house with her abusive alcoholic father. Last summer, he wouldn't let her out of the house. This year, Betty had turned 16. She had her blue Dodge Neon, which she named Pegasus, but her father still refused to let her leave the house. Betty had already decided this year was going to suck.
She finally got to her car. She had stayed an hour late at school to help her chemistry teacher clean up a mess made in her attempt. She thought about how long an hour seemed, when her father crossed her mind. What would happen if he noticed she was late from school? She shuddered at the thought and turned the key to start the engine.
After ten minutes of driving, she was home. A part of her wished she had come home early. The other part wished she had stayed at school all day. She just didn't want to be here. Betty grabbed her bag out of the passengers seat and took out the key. With a deep breath, she opened the front door to her house and saw her father on the couch holding a can of beer in his hand. Immediately, his focus turned to her. Betty grew worried again.
"Why are you late, bitch?! Huh?!" He asked her in a cold, nasty tone of voice. "Answer me, damnit!" Her dad yelled again.
"I was late at school because I was helping my teacher-" She tried to explain to him but he wouldn't let her.
"Yeah right. I bet you were fooling around with some boy down there."
"No," she said in the coldest voice she could manage.
"Oh yeah. You're an ugly skank. No boy would ever want to screw you. Get up to your room, bitch. I never want to see you back in this room again tonight," he yelled at her with a smirk. She knew this would happen.
"I SAID GO!" And with that, he slapped her hard across the face. Betty turned around and ran up the stairs. Once she got up to her room, she slammed the door shut and tears started pouring from her eyes. She touched her cheek where her father hit her. It stung so badly already. She flopped on her bed and sobbed into her pillow. Everything he said to her was playing over and over again in her head.
It was now seven o'clock in the evening. Betty turned her head to look into the mirror. Even though she had stopped crying a while ago, she still had blotches on her face. The spot where her father had hit her was now a red and purple bruise. She turned her whole body around and climbed out of bed.
The bathroom door was open, so she just slipped right in. She turned on the water from sink to warm and started to wash her face. Her bruise hurt her very badly, but she knew she had to deal with it until it healed. After Betty was done washing her face, she took a five-minute shower. When she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel and brushed her teeth quickly. She exited the bathroom to get dressed. She put on a pair of pajamas and climbed back into bed. She hoped she would wake up in a better place. Or if anything, a better situation than the one she was in right now. Little did she know she'd get exactly what she wanted - maybe a little more.
*
Betty woke up the next morning to the shake of a police officer. She was very vexed. But she was still half asleep and all she remembered of yesterday was the over-done chemistry experiment and her father hitting her.
"Does this have anything to do with the science experiment?" She mumbled. She rolled over onto the bruise and opened her eyes a bit, then squinted them.
"Ow!" She whispered. It hurt just as much as it did yesterday. Then the police officer spoke.
"No, hunny, it doesn't have anything to do with the science experiment. Your father's dead."
She finally got to her car. She had stayed an hour late at school to help her chemistry teacher clean up a mess made in her attempt. She thought about how long an hour seemed, when her father crossed her mind. What would happen if he noticed she was late from school? She shuddered at the thought and turned the key to start the engine.
After ten minutes of driving, she was home. A part of her wished she had come home early. The other part wished she had stayed at school all day. She just didn't want to be here. Betty grabbed her bag out of the passengers seat and took out the key. With a deep breath, she opened the front door to her house and saw her father on the couch holding a can of beer in his hand. Immediately, his focus turned to her. Betty grew worried again.
"Why are you late, bitch?! Huh?!" He asked her in a cold, nasty tone of voice. "Answer me, damnit!" Her dad yelled again.
"I was late at school because I was helping my teacher-" She tried to explain to him but he wouldn't let her.
"Yeah right. I bet you were fooling around with some boy down there."
"No," she said in the coldest voice she could manage.
"Oh yeah. You're an ugly skank. No boy would ever want to screw you. Get up to your room, bitch. I never want to see you back in this room again tonight," he yelled at her with a smirk. She knew this would happen.
"I SAID GO!" And with that, he slapped her hard across the face. Betty turned around and ran up the stairs. Once she got up to her room, she slammed the door shut and tears started pouring from her eyes. She touched her cheek where her father hit her. It stung so badly already. She flopped on her bed and sobbed into her pillow. Everything he said to her was playing over and over again in her head.
It was now seven o'clock in the evening. Betty turned her head to look into the mirror. Even though she had stopped crying a while ago, she still had blotches on her face. The spot where her father had hit her was now a red and purple bruise. She turned her whole body around and climbed out of bed.
The bathroom door was open, so she just slipped right in. She turned on the water from sink to warm and started to wash her face. Her bruise hurt her very badly, but she knew she had to deal with it until it healed. After Betty was done washing her face, she took a five-minute shower. When she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel and brushed her teeth quickly. She exited the bathroom to get dressed. She put on a pair of pajamas and climbed back into bed. She hoped she would wake up in a better place. Or if anything, a better situation than the one she was in right now. Little did she know she'd get exactly what she wanted - maybe a little more.
*
Betty woke up the next morning to the shake of a police officer. She was very vexed. But she was still half asleep and all she remembered of yesterday was the over-done chemistry experiment and her father hitting her.
"Does this have anything to do with the science experiment?" She mumbled. She rolled over onto the bruise and opened her eyes a bit, then squinted them.
"Ow!" She whispered. It hurt just as much as it did yesterday. Then the police officer spoke.
"No, hunny, it doesn't have anything to do with the science experiment. Your father's dead."
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