LeeAnn Werner - The Illusion of a Girl

t he I llusion
of a G irl

A YA Novel Based on a True Story

LeeAnn Werner

Copyright 2019 LeeAnn Werner

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

ISBN:978-1-7330062-5-5 (paperback)

978-1-7330062-7-9 (ebook)

Cover and interior design by Tara Mayberry, TeaBerry Creative

This book is dedicated to the Seekers.

Luke 11:9-10

So, I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

Acknowledgments

T hank you to my family and friends who put up with me and read many drafts of this book. A big thank you to my fellow authors, JJ Crane, Lyn Miller-Lachmann, and Kelley Griffin who generously took the time and provided me with valuabl e insight.

Chapter

Jessie

M y heavy social studies book slid from my lap and thudded to the floor as moms pleading voice needled its way through my bedr oom walls.

Youre overreacting, he wasnt eyeing me, Mom said.

I swung my bare feet down and dug my toes into the shabby blue carpet. Grabbing the black elastic band from my wrist, I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and took a de ep breath.

You were flirting with him. I watched you, Dad said.

Perched on the side of my bed, I listened as my parents loud exchange progressed down the hall, past my bedroom and into theirs. I reached down and shoved my feet into nearby running shoes. I always knew when I nee ded to run.

Thats ridicu Moms angry voice cut off mid-word. Silence. All the blood rushed to my head as I flew across the hall and skidded to a stop at their door. My hand hovered in the air just an inch from th e doorknob.

The bed springs creaked, and Mom gasped as I pushed the door open. Dad had pinned Mom to the foot of the bed and was choking her. Her eyes bugged out of her head, and her pantyhose clad legs kicked uselessly against him. I bounced on the balls of my feet and flapped my hands like a panicked bird. Dont scream, dont scream. I edged my way to the side of the room and used my foot to push off from the wall. I charged toward him with my hands outstretched and shoved him with all the strength I had. The smell of whiskey and bitter body odor stung my nose as I pushed against his damp t-shirt. He toppled off the side of the bed, while my momentum slammed me into their dresser. Pain shot through my shoulder. Grunting, I pushed off the dresser and scrambled to the bathroom i n the hall.

The main bathroom was the only place in the house where I could lock him out. His anger would turn toward me now. I dont know why that seemed better. I had t o help her.

My thumb kept the lock on the bathroom door pushed in, as my hand gripped the handle. Dad reached the flimsy, fake wood door and pounded his fists against it.

Im gettin in! he screamed.

His body crashed against the door. The sound and vibration rattled through me. I knew he would get a wire hanger and try to pop out the button that locked the door. The lock offered little protection against the looming, drunk maniac hell bent on getting to me. I didnt want to imagine what h e would do.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. I swatted my hair to the side and pressed my shoulder against the door, digging my tennis shoes into the pink carpeting. I desperately wished Brian was home to help me. Dads fist slammed into the d oor again.

Stop it! Stop now, Mom said.

Get out of my way, he said. Dads retreating voice told me he was headed to their bedroom. He was going for the w ire hanger.

This was it. Swallowing hard, I turned the knob. The door opened soundlessly, and I sprinted toward the sliding glass door in the family room. My tennis shoes silent against the carpet. As I rounded the corner to the family room, he screamed my name from th e hallway.

A second later, I grabbed the door handle, slid it open and disappeared into the darkness.

By the time he made it to the sliding glass door, I was crouched behind the bushes in the Gallaghers back yard. The smell of mulch filled my nose as I got up on the balls of my feet with one hand pressed into the dirt to steady myself. If he did come looking, I would have time to run further away. With no street lamps, only a few dim porch lights broke up th e darkness.

Dad stepped onto the back porch. Get back here! he yelled.

Mom slapped his shoulder. The whole neighborhood can hear you. Come in the house.

I cringed. The odds he would hit her back were very good, and that would mean Id have to run back to the house to defend her, again, which is how this whole night started. He jerked away from her and stumbled back into the house.

I eased out of my crouched position and blood flow tingled back into my feet. I moved to the back wall of the Gallaghers house, and hid behind their hydrangea shrubs. I wasnt sure if Dad would get industrious and find a flashlight to come and loo k for me.

Now I would wait until he passed out. I dimmed the light on my phone, and hoped Brian wouldnt come home anytime soon. At least my brother had been spared tonights adventure.

The warm air made my wait comfortable. I stared straight ahead into the darkness, listening to my heart rate slow, my mind blank. I wriggled my butt searching for a softer place and rested my head against the brick wall. The TV, and the voices of our neighbors, Ted and Alyssa, broke into my thoughts. The peaceful monotony of their conversation was oddly comforting.

Sometime later, my phone dinged: Come back, h es asleep.

I didnt acknowledge the message, but headed toward our house. I crept up to their bedroom window, placed my hands lightly against the brick an d listened.

The familiar sound of my dads loud snoring greeted me. My muscles relaxed a bit. Mom stood by the sliding glass door wait ing for me.

Im sorry. You okay? she said. I glared at her stress-lined face and pressed-together lips. She clasped and unclasped her hands in perpet ual motion.

Whatever. Nothing changes, so dont talk to me, I replied.

She hovered behind me as I huffed back to my room to grab a blanket and pillow off my bed. The temporary bed on the bathroom floor wasnt comfy, but at least I would have some barrier between me and my father. I never knew when the other shoe, full of horrible, slimy, dead things, would drop.

Chapter 2

Jessie

I folded the initial chapters of the paperback book under my current page and immersed myself in Pecolas black and white world o nce again.

Whatre you reading? Rebecca used her finger to push the book cover into view.

The Bluest Eye , its on the schools banned book list. Im reading them all one by on e, I said.

Any good? Reb ecca asked.

Its brutal, but interesting , I said.

What I didnt say was that I could relate to the dark, hateful humans portrayed in the book. I leaned against the wall and waited for the first bell to ring. Our high school, Valley Christian, was a long, two-story, cinder-block rectangle surrounded by mature trees and dense woods. The pervasive greenery seeped in through the mostly glass entrance, tinging the school lobby an eerie gray-green. The white halls and florescent lighting made it feel a little institutional, but I didnt mind. I was safe here.

I winced and adjusted my shoulder against the white-washed wall. The memory of my crash into my parents dresser flashed through my mind. The cold penetrated the painful bruise and brought some relief. Rebecca didnt notice as she dug in her backpack.