When the Enemy is your Friend, part 1

I wanted to report that I've been very responsible this Saturday morning. I woke up at the early hour of 8:30 a.m. I'm at Starbucks with my friend Matt and we're just drinkin coffee and "studying". And since my studying is as far along as it's gonna be, I'm now resorting to the unthinkable. I'm working on a novel I started writing a year ago. It's about a girl who transforms from a girl who knows who she is in highschool to a girl who is willingly abused in college. Even though she's satisfied with her transformation from being stared at because of her Amish-like background to being stared at because her legs are finally seeing the sun, she knows she's taken a wrong turn somewhere when she finds herself on trial for murder in the first degree. The worst part of her confusing transformation from conservative to criminal? She can't remember what she did. Thus, she goes on a journey to find a balance between the extremes and through the story she not only needs to find herself and her family, but also needs to find a good lawyer!

Enjoy chapter 1 below!

When the Enemy is Your Friend

She was given no warning that her life was going to change as completely as it would that night. And when she thought back to the beginning of the whole nightmare, she could think only of a story she once read to her little niece on Halloween.

The wind was blowing, and even though the joggers in the park seemed to take no notice and the old woman tossing bread crumbs didn’t seem to care, a little girl sitting on a cool park bench was blissfully aware of the cool autumn breeze playing with her thin pony tail. Eight-year-old Grace had left playing with her friend Janie, whom she considered somewhat boring anyways, and had found a bench where she could perch and watch the people around her with interest. She thought the woman in the ratty clothes looked a little scary, and she thought the man who was walking three dogs was entirely too scrawny for comfort, and she wondered for a brief moment if she should go back over to Janie’s party, where her mom was busy passing out napkins and ice cream bars. But then a man walked up to her who was dressed very nicely and had the queerest burgundy scarf around his neck. She was distracted and watched him approach.

“Hello little girl,” he said warmly.

She looked up at him curiously. Mother would normally have warned her to stay away from strangers, whether they were nice looking or not, but little Grace could instinctively feel her mother saying that it was okay this time. He had such gentle eyes.

“Hello,” she replied shyly.

“Are you enjoying this beautiful fall day?” he asked grandly, pausing a comfortable four feet away from her.

She lit up and responded, “Why yes, I really am. I was just sitting here thinking was a beautiful day it was. Can you feel the breeze?”

“Of course. Why else would I be wearing this old scarf?”

“I like your scarf.”                         

He paused and looked down at his scarf for a second as if he had forgotten what it looked like. “Well, thank you, but I will say I’m not that cold and I think you look colder than I am. Would you like to have my scarf?”

She ducked her head shyly.

“It’s up to you. I just hate to see a little girl shivering like that.”

She hadn’t even realized she was shivering. What a nice man, to take notice. “Oh, yes then, please,” she said shyly. In the back of her mind, she was wondering with excitement if she had made a new friend!

Before she knew it, he had taken off the scarf and wrapped it around her head. It smelled a little funny and she could hear him telling her to breathe in deep. She struggled a little bit, hoping someone would notice that she was uncomfortable and couldn’t breathe, but no one called out any warning. To anyone passing by them, it looked like a father was simply trying to bundle up his sleepy daughter. No one noticed him kidnap her, and there was no cry of alarm until Janie became bored with her other little friends and asked her mother where Grace had gone.

The little girl was never heard from again.

Alyson closed the book abruptly, thinking for a moment that perhaps the story was a little too scary for her niece.  Faith had picked out the book at the library in the “spooky” section. Since it was Halloween, Alyson had thought it would be a little funny to read her something scary and see those big brown eyes go wide with wonder. But she had been planning to read a story about a teddy bear covered in a big white sheet with holes poked out for the eyes—not a truly frightening story.

She needn’t have worried about scaring Faith. The little girl was already pulling out another scary book from her little pile, and was saying, “Read another one. Read another one.”

Alyson hesitated and said, “No, that’s enough scary stories for now.”

Faith pouted, and then pulled the blanket up closer to her chin. “Aunt Alyson,” she asked innocently.

“What?”
“How come the bad guy seemed like her friend?”

Crap, she actually had been listening. Alyson thought about it and said slowly, “Sometimes bad people don’t look bad on the outside. They may look really nice on the outside, but on the inside they’re not very good.”

“Then how do you know who is good?”

“You don’t always…” Alyson said lamely. “I guess you have to be cautious—”

“What’s…cautious?”
“Careful.”

“Do I need to be careful with you? Are you a good person?”

Alyson laughed, “Of course I am!”
“Is Daddy a good person?”

Alyson sobered quickly, feeling a pit of deep anger in place of her previous fear. In Alyson’s opinion, the only good thing Faith’s dad had done was bring Faith into the world. The man couldn’t hold a job any more than he could hold his liquor. He was a low-down, cheap, cheating—

“Aunt Alyson?”

“Yes, your daddy is a good person,” she said quickly.

“What about your daddy?” she asked with big brown eyes.

“Story time is over,” Alyson said abruptly, standing and turning off the light by the bed.

“Night-light!” Faith squeaked.

Alyson gave a wry smile and flicked the switch on the little dinosaur night-light by Faith’s pillow.

“Tricks-or-treats were fun, Aunt Alyson!” she said enthusiastically, clearly not resigned to the idea of going to bed.

“Was fun,” Alyson corrected, and then added softly, “And yes, you made a very cute nurse.”

“I wish we could have afforded the nurse costume at the store,” she said mournfully.

“But the sheet worked just fine, don’t you think?” Alyson asked, feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t been able to swing the 10 dollars for the nurse outfit and the stethoscope. Not that Faith’s parents would have even gone to the store to look anyways.

“Yes. We used our ‘magination,” she agreed readily.

“Sure did. Okay, go to sleep,” Alyson said, backing out of the room.

“Leave the door ajar,” she begged.

“I will,” Alyson promised.

“The hall light!” Faith called in warning.
Alyson’s hand had been poised over the light to turn it off and she chuckled when she heard Faith’s little knowing voice remind her to leave it on. She crept down the narrow hall, put her jacket on, and quietly slipped out the door of the little trailer home. She walked briskly down the dirt lane, mace poised in her hand in case she needed it, until she reached her own family’s trailer home. She fumbled with the keys and entered as quietly as possible, being careful not to let the door shake the home by shutting too hard.

Climbing onto her own mattress, she pulled the blankets up to her chin and shivered slightly, aware that the heat would not be on until the cold nip in the air became unbearable. She could thank her mother for that, since she was constantly going out and spending money the family didn’t have. Just 3 months ago, Alyson had been walking home after school and had caught a glimpse of her mother walking glibly into a fancy French clothing store. Before 15 minutes was out, she had applied for a credit card with the store and spent $250 on a new coat. This Alyson found out later that night when her parents had a huge argument over the unnecessary purchase. Alyson covered her ears with a pillow but she still heard all of it.

“That money could have been used to pay for food!” her dad was yelling. “Now we’re going to have to call your Aunt and ask for another loan!”

Alyson wanted to add that that money could have also helped her go to college, or at least pay for some of her books, but she knew better than to act like she had heard them argue.  Alyson knew the exact moment when the argument ended, because her dad yelled that he was getting ready to leave for his third shift job and would she please let him go so he could make more money for her to spend. Even though all of this was said in “the privacy of their room,” the walls were as thick as cheap aluminum foil, and Alyson never needed to wonder what any argument was about. She suspected that these arguments were what set her father into deep depression during the holiday’s, and why he kept a “secret” stash of pain pills in the bathroom. As far as she knew, her father controlled his addiction, but like her mother’s spending habit, it was an addiction nonetheless.

Alyson didn’t have the luxury of paper-thin walls when it came to hearing her little brother Ben snoring in his sleep. Even now with the lights off she was close enough to see his little silhouette sprawled across that ugly tan couch her dad had found on the side of the street. She loved Ben and despised him all at once, mainly loving him because he had big brown eyes and despising him because he was always there.

When she finally shut her eyes she was shutting them to more than the darkness; she shut them to everything she resented about her home—weeds instead of grass, pots instead of dishes, rags instead of towels, and a cross that hung above her parents’ door, silently reminding Alyson of the unfairness of life. “12 days,” she whispered to herself. 12 days until she left this hell-hole and made something of herself. 12 days until she entered a new world where she would not only leave her mark but would be changed forever.