Who Even Knows

Erabella opened her dark green eyes, spitting frizzy red out of her mouth. Eleven thirty five her clock taunted. Late. She hated being late. It reminded her of her mother, who'd be late for her own funeral. She rolled out of bed quietly, listening for movement. She contemplated climbing out the window in case someone was lying in wait. She surveyed her ripped attire, groaned, swapped her clothes and didn't look back as she hopped out the window, dashed across the yard and disappeared into the familiar trees. She noiselessly skipped through the underbrush, her fingers trailing across leaves as they passed, occasionally snagging a long blade of grass or flower to twirl. This was where she sought comfort. Alone in the open abandon of the forest, butterflies chased each other and nectar from the nearby honeysuckle growing over thick patches of blackberries. It was a heaven compared to the violence at home. She was almost able to escape. Any day now. Maybe sooner if she kept being pushed. Her back side still hurt, but not near as much as her spirit. How could she be so awful that a mother couldn't love? A red headed step child so to speak. Well, the red hair at least. She was the eldest of four girls. Her parents had desperately wanted a boy, eventually giving up. Although Era felt different from her family. She WAS different. She had to hold herself back. Keep it in check. She could so easily fall apart and tear the world down with her. She couldn't help the boiling rage that bubbled inside, always just below the surface. Waiting like a volcano. Almost pretty, then BAM! The damn thing explodes and burns the world to the ground. Her temper was dynamite. She smiled as a chipmunk skittered up a nearby tree. She should really be in school. But her run last night ended up lasting too long. She hopes the beating would be swift. Her skin was numb to the pounding. She crawled under the thorns of a berry bush, perfect fit underneath, feeling protected and comforted by the thorns. Who could possibly find her here? Much less reach her? Erabella dared laugh. It was loud, musical, goofy. She was a sweet girl in a rough home. No matter how she tried, she always fell short of her parent's expectations. Her grades weren't high enough, room wasn't clean enough, didn't set the proper example for her sisters, waist wasn't trim enough, hair was too straggly, complexion too oily, too short, too heavy.... Tears brimmed her eyes. Though she fought it, they spilled down her cheeks. Her resolve to disappear strengthened.