Chapter 1

Makynzee

Not much surprised or upset me anymore when it came to my mom. In fact, the only things that actually meant anything to me were my Beats headphones, music, gymnastics, and what little was left of my sanity. I actually had to contemplate what upset me more; the stinging sensation across the left side of my face, from the slap my mom just delivered or the sight of her foot stomping on my headphones which flew from my ears when she hit me. I was a pretty practical girl, so I went with the stomping of the headphones. Before she demolished them I swooped down and snatched them up. Then our staring contest began. My look asked “what now?” hers was unreadable, but I think I won. She looked away first.

            “You and these stupid ass headphones make me sick, instead of sitting in your room you should be out trying to find a job and figure out a way to pay for college, so I wasn’t stuck with you for another four years.”

            “If you hadn’t spent all of the money Daddy saved for me I’d be long gone.”

            Hey eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. Surprised me, too. I’d never disrespected my mother, never uttered a word back to her. It took mere seconds for her brows to draw down and her lips to lift in disgust. The back of her left hand descended quickly and the skin on my cheek caught the wedding ring that she still wore. I bit my tongue to suppress my cry as my fingers drifted to my face. There wasn’t much blood so I knew it wasn’t a big cut, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. I glared at my mother and her eyes dared me to said anything. I didn’t. Instead I lowered my gaze to the floor.

            “If you weren’t such a fat fuck, you’d still be able to do gymnastics and get a full scholarship!”

            I kept my eyes trained on the floor. I wasn’t fat and I could definitely still do gymnastics.

            “And if you hadn’t gotten your daddy killed, he’d still be here to take care of us!”

            I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to block out her hateful words. My father died in a car accident nearly a year ago. As if I didn’t blame myself enough, my mom blamed me even more. He was in a coma for four days before the doctors told my mom it would be best to “pull the plug.” I’d walked away from the wreck without a scratch. When she told the doctors to let him go, I fought her. I fought them. I had to be sedated. When I woke up he was gone. I found solace in food. When my mom noticed my weight gain she called me a whore and took me to the doctor for a pregnancy test. When it came back negative, she started force feeding me diet pills and wouldn’t allow me to eat anything other than salads and crackers. The damage had already been done though. Everything I ate found its way to my hips and butt. In a fit of rage she’d pulled me out of gymnastics. I was devastated. I begged her to let me stay, but she said I looked like a “pig in a blanket” in my leotards and it was embarrassing to her. That was my junior year in high school. I’m in the final stretch of my senior year now and have nothing to look forward to. No more Olympics, no more sponsors, no more scholarships, and no more money.

            Instead of arguing further with my mom, I turned and left my room. Without grabbing anything for lunch, I made my way outside and walked the short distance to school. I waited by my locker, but when the bell rang I knew I was on my own for the day. Jaida would’ve met me here by now if she were coming to school. She tended to skip a lot, but she usually told me beforehand. Jaida was the only friend I had and with her not being here today, I knew I was in for a day filled with bullying. I didn’t know if I could fight, never had to, but I was pretty sure I remembered a few things from the martial arts classes my dad made me take when I was younger; kicking to be specific. I’d always been a great kicker. Jay was the fighter; I was the one with the mouth. Without her I was an easy target. My ponytail being yanked back just as those thoughts passed proved that. My books crashed to the floor and I instinctively grabbed the hand that held my hair. I didn’t even know why I had bullies. I never bothered anyone and I kept to myself.

            A fist in my stomach bowled me over as Kristen cooed, “Your bodyguard ain’t here to save you today.”

            And that was basically how I found out that, no, I was not a fighter. I got my ass handed to me and hid in the nurses office after begging my mom to come pick me up. Surprisingly, she did. When I got home I made a beeline for my bedroom and swallowed two pain relievers without any water. Standing in my bathroom, I stared at my hair in the mirror as my head throbbed. Gorgeous black curls flowed to the middle of my back. It was what the bullies always went for. That was the logic I used when I grabbed the scissors from the cabinet below the sink and began hacking away. I was surprised when I walk out the bathroom and see my mom standing there with a glass of water and a bottle of pain relievers. She drops them both and stares at me slack-jawed as water and glass scatter around her feet.

I looked away and mumbled, “Everybody always pulls my hair.”

I expect her to hit me, but she left instead. An hour later I sat in a beauty salon.