Chapter One
The Mask ~
"ELISE PELLETIER!! Get your ass down here!!" My head jerked up in shock. I had been having a nightmare. But dreams were only dreams; I was in control. Now reality was hitting me. I inhaled a shaky breath my body already shivering slightly. I was scared. Terrified. I got out of bed, still wearing clothes and opened my bedroom door to the dimly light hall. I went down the old creaking stairs, trying to clam myself. It doesn't have to be worth a punishment; it isn't always that way... I chanted in my head. But subconsciously I knew there would be a punishment. Not because what I had or hadn't done was terrible, but just for the sake of it. When I entered the living room the smell of alcohol confirmed my fears. No, my parents wouldn't have it any other way, not when they were completely drunk.
"Hurry up Bitch!" My father shouted again. I stumbled and quickened my pace. I stood before him, a mask on my face, as always. Fear, hatred, hurt, pain - it was all hidden with a sober voice and expressionless face. A mask.
"Yes father?" I asked politely. He only glared at me.
"We got an email - from your school!" My mother hissed at me, spitting the last word. She was wearing a pink bathrobe and slippers, my father in a shirt and jeans.
"Young lady, your attendance record is weak! Suspension! That's what the threat is! Why haven't you been at school for the past two days???" He shouted. I stared at him incredulously. He should know! Or would have known if he hadn't been a drunk pig. I stared at my mom, I knew she wasn't drunk, but there was no way in hell she was going to help me. No, she was just going to watch it like a show. "Answer me!" My father blared in my face, alcohol reeking with his every breath.
"Because! These past two days Tom and Pete have been coming with packages!! YOU told me I had to stay home to sign the papers! To hide the drugs! To assure that everything went smoothly as planned! To make sure the neighbors didn't get suspicious!" I glared in distaste at the bastard. A hand whipped across my cheek. I winced in pain, but otherwise gave nothing away - I knew it would only get worse if I did.
"Don't lie to me!" My father yelled at my face, stumbling forwards.
"Don't get drunk!" I muttered harshly. I knew immediately that I would regret that slip.
"You're one hell of a nasty, despicable child, you are!" My mother said, pulling at my hair while saying so. She gave a fierce tug and she pushed me onto the floor.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!?!" My father yelled. "You will NOT speak to me like that girl! RESPECT!!" And suddenly his foot kicked my jaw, my head hitting the ground and blood forming in my mouth. "Respect! Honour it in this house, OR GET OUT!" That was my call. Never! Never had he told me to get out. That was my pass. I got up and started to race to the door. Just as I reached it, I felt a familiar pain across my left thigh. My mother was holding a steel handled broom, used for more then just sweeping.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She shrieked.
I glared at her, taking deep breathes as pain seared through my leg. "I'm getting out!" I whispered fiercely. Then I flipped her and ran out the door. She threw the broom after me, and it crashed into my back and I gasped at the pain my ribs now endured. But I kept running. I was going to escape this hell house if it was the last thing I ever did!
I ran down the street, the soles of my converse slapping the pavement. East L.A. sure as hell wasn't pretty but I would not be staying here much longer.
