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Description
I was set up at home. I wasn't going to school until my head felt better. I was brought my homework from Anthony but he couldn’t really do much because my mother stayed home with me. But it wasn’t too long until my mother had to go back to work and I to school.
It wasn't too long either before I was called back into Mrs. Coops office. It was, in fact the day I went back.
   “Hi Marie.”
   “What do you want?” I asked.
   “Sit down and take off your scarf.” I sat down and stared at her. “Scarf please.” I grabbed the scarf I had wrapped around my neck so that the bruises wouldn’t show and I pulled it off.
   “He did that to you.” It wasn't a question so I didn’t answer.
   “What's the point of this?” I asked. “So I have some bruises. I fell down stairs.”
   “The point is you need to be protected.”
   “Look. My parents wouldn’t give two shits about what you think is going on. They wouldn’t believe you. Anthony is what my father has always wanted and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away. So you can just stop now. Just stop and leave it alone. All I want from you is your trust. I just want some one else to know that he is not what he pretends to be.” I stood up.
   “Marie. Please don’t stop seeing me. I want to know how things are. You don’t have to admit anything but I need to know that you are ok. Ok?”
   “Yeah.” I turned around and left. I would have gone back to class, but I didn’t feel like it. I went home.

   The house was empty. I put my bathing suit on and got into the Jacuzzi. I breathed in the steam and sighed. I put my head back and closed my eyes letting the steam consume me.
Something whispered “Marie.” I jumped up and looked around. I was by myself. I grabbed my towel and went inside. The phone started ringing, I let the answering machine pick it up.
   “Marie?” Anthony's voice filled the room. “I know your home. I didn't see you when I passed your class today. I was worried. I'm used to seeing you in all of your classes, every day. Now, erase this message, because you wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out you skipped. See you when I get home.” I erased the message.

   How are you supposed to be able to survive when you have nothing to help you? No materials, no useful support and no hope? I was alone. I suddenly felt lonely. The room seemed too big; it only emphasized the fact that I was by myself. I went to my room and grabbed my journal.

   ‘What am I going to do?’ Is all I wrote. The phone rang again. The machine picked it up.
   “Marie, please tell me your home,” It was Mrs. Coop. I grabbed the phone.
   “Hello.” I heard a sigh.
   “If you’re going to skip let me know so I don’t think your lying in a ditch dead somewhere.”
   “Ok… Why are you so worried about me?”
   “Look, I’m supposed to be concerned about your well being.” I laughed.
   “I thought that was just a lie teachers liked to tell us.”
   “Most of the time it is.”
   “So what makes you so different?”
   “I'm not a teacher.”
   “Fine, you know I'm home, happy?”
   “No.” she said simply.
   “Look, Mrs. Coop, you can’t help me so please, don’t try.” I hung up.

   I went into my bathroom and filled the tub up. Last time I was in here he was cleaning me. I closed my eyes and sat on the floor and resisted the urge to cry. I got undressed and slowly lowered myself into the water. I looked down at my thighs. The black had faded to a sickly green with hints of yellow. I touched it gingerly. I put my hand in between my legs and felt the scabs that had formed and were now going away.
   I scrubbed up and got out. I hated being in there. I hated being naked and seeing my body.  I toweled dry and got into comfortable pajamas. No sense in trying to impress anybody when there was no one to impress.
   I went back to my journal.

   ‘I have healed more. The scabs are starting to go away and the bruises and fading finally.’ I set down my pen then pick it back up again. ‘I’m going to try and talk to my mother again.’ I set the pen down and put my journal away. I glanced at my clock. Only fifteen minutes until Anthony would be home.

   Not much time.

   I hurried to my parents’ room. I need to find the key. I looked in their drawers, under the bed, in between their mattress. Nothing. I walked out of their room and back into mine. I stopped dead in my tracks.
   “Get out of my room.” I said. Anthony looked up at me.
   “Not gonna welcome me home?”
   “Fuck you.”
   “Marie!” I turned around and much to my horrible surprise my mother was standing behind me.
   “God I can’t win!” I left out of my room and went into our guest bathroom. Some one knocked on the door.
   “Marie get out here. We need to talk about how you have been acting. Now!” I opened the door and walked out with my mother. We went into the living room.
   “What is with your attitude young lady?”
   “You don’t believe me so why should I have to explain anything to you?”
   “Talk to me or you will talk to your father.” I sighed.
   “Anthony hurts me mom.” She rolled her eyes. “That day when I fell down the stairs. I fell down them because I was in pain. I was hurting… He raped me mom.”
   “Marie! That is it. You’re going to counseling. I refuse to listen to this anymore.”
   “Fine! I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. Its pointless to even try and get anything through your guys’ thick skulls.” I got up and went back into my room.
   “I’m going out you two.” My mother yelled from downstairs. It wasn't five minutes after my mother left that Anthony was walking in my room. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
   “Oh, come on sis, chill out.” He closed the door behind him. I started shaking my head.
   “No.” I said weakly.  He had already started on my shirt. Unbuttoning the fabric. Then down to my pants. They were thrown with my shirt. I was in another place chanting my usual word while he was hurting me, grunting and sweaty. I came back though when I thought a shadow passed by my door. I was swallowed by pain. I worked myself into my pain free state of mind until he was done. I lay on my bed for a while trying to regain my normal thought process. It seemed though that every time I went there I came back with less and less of myself.
   I showered then got dressed in new pajamas. At precisely five o clock I was summoned to dinner.
   “What are you wearing young lady?”
   “Does it matter?” I asked emptily.
   “Yes it does.”
   “Why? Its just us, we aren't trying to impress anyone so why does it matter what I wear?”
   “Because we are not middle class people. You will look dignified at all times of the day.”
   “Whatever.”
   “If you do not go upstairs right now and change you will not eat dinner.”
   “Fine. I'm not hungry anyways.” I stood up from my chair and went back into my room. About a half an hour later my dad stormed into my room.
   “What did I tell you?!” He yelled. He walked over to my desk. I stared at him blankly. “Huh?” I still didn't respond. He smacked me again. I looked into his eyes when I recovered. I showed him the emptiness that I had developed. That Anthony had caused. I showed him how soulless my eyes could be.
   “Don't ever touch me again.” I said calmly. He raised his hand again and I caught it before it connected with my cheek. “Anthony might be able to get away with it but I will not let you.” I let his hand go and turned back to my journal. It was a couple minutes before he turned around and left.

   Saturday. Mother and father still had something that was busying them. Mother had to go to her office and she was planning on scheduling an appointment with Mrs. Coop. Father was in his office on a conference call. I was, of coarse held up in my room with Anthony standing in my doorway.
   “Father has to go to work.” He said with a sly grin. I was sitting at my desk again. I stilled as he said it. He laughed harder.
   “Children!” My father yelled from down stairs. “Come down here.” I stood up and walked past Anthony and downstairs.
   “Yes father?” I said.
   “Yes father?” Anthony repeated.
   “I'm going to the office for a while. I have just to grab some things and then I will be out for a couple of hours.”
   “Will you be home by dinner?” Anthony asked. The little rat was seeing how much time he had.
   “Probably not. There is money on the counter since your mother won’t be home until later as well. So you can order out if you like.”
   “Thank you father.” Anthony said. My father walked back into his office and I made a beeline for my room. I closed the door but Anthony traipsed right in behind me shutting the door.
   “This is going to be lots of fun.” He said. “We have so much time on our hands.” I already started getting myself into my other self. By the time I was undressed and being shoved into I was gone. Anthony was making odd noises above me. I was saying my usual mantra of ‘no’ when my door opened. It was silent. Anthony didn't hear because he didn't stop. I came back to myself. My father was standing in my doorway.
   I let the pain that was filtering back through fill my eyes.
   “Help me daddy.” I whispered.
   “Daddy isn’t here.” Anthony scowled. And in a sense he wasn't. He looked surprised and then sick.
   “Please daddy, help me.” He shook his head slightly then closed the door behind him as silently as when he opened it. I knew then that I was defiantly alone.

   “Marie!” My father yelled from downstairs. I got slowly off my bed trying not to upset the screaming muscles any more. I walked downstairs and stood at his door to his office and knocked.
   “Come in.” I walked into his office and sat down without being asked to.
   “I have nothing that I want to say to you right now or ever.” I said as calmly as was humanly possible in that situation. All he did was hold my door key out to me. He didn't even look at me.
I snatched it out of his hand.
   “This is your solution,” I yelled, “To give me my key back? What the fuck?” He looked up at that. “You are going to allow your son to keep doing this to me? You aren't going to stop it? What the hell kind of father are you? I hate you! I hate you and your fucking son and I wish you both would get the fuck out of my life!” I threw my key at him and went back into my room opening up my journal.

   ‘He knows and he wont do anything. He knows and he won’t stop him. What the hell am I going to do?’

Description
I was set up at home. I wasn't going to school until my head felt better. I was brought my homework from Anthony but he couldn’t really do much because my mother stayed home with me. But it wasn’t too long until my mother had to go back to work and I to school.
It wasn't too long either before I was called back into Mrs. Coops office. It was, in fact the day I went back.
   “Hi Marie.”
   “What do you want?” I asked.
   “Sit down and take off your scarf.” I sat down and stared at her. “Scarf please.” I grabbed the scarf I had wrapped around my neck so that the bruises wouldn’t show and I pulled it off.
   “He did that to you.” It wasn't a question so I didn’t answer.
   “What's the point of this?” I asked. “So I have some bruises. I fell down stairs.”
   “The point is you need to be protected.”
   “Look. My parents wouldn’t give two shits about what you think is going on. They wouldn’t believe you. Anthony is what my father has always wanted and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away. So you can just stop now. Just stop and leave it alone. All I want from you is your trust. I just want some one else to know that he is not what he pretends to be.” I stood up.
   “Marie. Please don’t stop seeing me. I want to know how things are. You don’t have to admit anything but I need to know that you are ok. Ok?”
   “Yeah.” I turned around and left. I would have gone back to class, but I didn’t feel like it. I went home.

   The house was empty. I put my bathing suit on and got into the Jacuzzi. I breathed in the steam and sighed. I put my head back and closed my eyes letting the steam consume me.
Something whispered “Marie.” I jumped up and looked around. I was by myself. I grabbed my towel and went inside. The phone started ringing, I let the answering machine pick it up.
   “Marie?” Anthony's voice filled the room. “I know your home. I didn't see you when I passed your class today. I was worried. I'm used to seeing you in all of your classes, every day. Now, erase this message, because you wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out you skipped. See you when I get home.” I erased the message.

   How are you supposed to be able to survive when you have nothing to help you? No materials, no useful support and no hope? I was alone. I suddenly felt lonely. The room seemed too big; it only emphasized the fact that I was by myself. I went to my room and grabbed my journal.

   ‘What am I going to do?’ Is all I wrote. The phone rang again. The machine picked it up.
   “Marie, please tell me your home,” It was Mrs. Coop. I grabbed the phone.
   “Hello.” I heard a sigh.
   “If you’re going to skip let me know so I don’t think your lying in a ditch dead somewhere.”
   “Ok… Why are you so worried about me?”
   “Look, I’m supposed to be concerned about your well being.” I laughed.
   “I thought that was just a lie teachers liked to tell us.”
   “Most of the time it is.”
   “So what makes you so different?”
   “I'm not a teacher.”
   “Fine, you know I'm home, happy?”
   “No.” she said simply.
   “Look, Mrs. Coop, you can’t help me so please, don’t try.” I hung up.

   I went into my bathroom and filled the tub up. Last time I was in here he was cleaning me. I closed my eyes and sat on the floor and resisted the urge to cry. I got undressed and slowly lowered myself into the water. I looked down at my thighs. The black had faded to a sickly green with hints of yellow. I touched it gingerly. I put my hand in between my legs and felt the scabs that had formed and were now going away.
   I scrubbed up and got out. I hated being in there. I hated being naked and seeing my body.  I toweled dry and got into comfortable pajamas. No sense in trying to impress anybody when there was no one to impress.
   I went back to my journal.

   ‘I have healed more. The scabs are starting to go away and the bruises and fading finally.’ I set down my pen then pick it back up again. ‘I’m going to try and talk to my mother again.’ I set the pen down and put my journal away. I glanced at my clock. Only fifteen minutes until Anthony would be home.

   Not much time.

   I hurried to my parents’ room. I need to find the key. I looked in their drawers, under the bed, in between their mattress. Nothing. I walked out of their room and back into mine. I stopped dead in my tracks.
   “Get out of my room.” I said. Anthony looked up at me.
   “Not gonna welcome me home?”
   “Fuck you.”
   “Marie!” I turned around and much to my horrible surprise my mother was standing behind me.
   “God I can’t win!” I left out of my room and went into our guest bathroom. Some one knocked on the door.
   “Marie get out here. We need to talk about how you have been acting. Now!” I opened the door and walked out with my mother. We went into the living room.
   “What is with your attitude young lady?”
   “You don’t believe me so why should I have to explain anything to you?”
   “Talk to me or you will talk to your father.” I sighed.
   “Anthony hurts me mom.” She rolled her eyes. “That day when I fell down the stairs. I fell down them because I was in pain. I was hurting… He raped me mom.”
   “Marie! That is it. You’re going to counseling. I refuse to listen to this anymore.”
   “Fine! I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. Its pointless to even try and get anything through your guys’ thick skulls.” I got up and went back into my room.
   “I’m going out you two.” My mother yelled from downstairs. It wasn't five minutes after my mother left that Anthony was walking in my room. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
   “Oh, come on sis, chill out.” He closed the door behind him. I started shaking my head.
   “No.” I said weakly.  He had already started on my shirt. Unbuttoning the fabric. Then down to my pants. They were thrown with my shirt. I was in another place chanting my usual word while he was hurting me, grunting and sweaty. I came back though when I thought a shadow passed by my door. I was swallowed by pain. I worked myself into my pain free state of mind until he was done. I lay on my bed for a while trying to regain my normal thought process. It seemed though that every time I went there I came back with less and less of myself.
   I showered then got dressed in new pajamas. At precisely five o clock I was summoned to dinner.
   “What are you wearing young lady?”
   “Does it matter?” I asked emptily.
   “Yes it does.”
   “Why? Its just us, we aren't trying to impress anyone so why does it matter what I wear?”
   “Because we are not middle class people. You will look dignified at all times of the day.”
   “Whatever.”
   “If you do not go upstairs right now and change you will not eat dinner.”
   “Fine. I'm not hungry anyways.” I stood up from my chair and went back into my room. About a half an hour later my dad stormed into my room.
   “What did I tell you?!” He yelled. He walked over to my desk. I stared at him blankly. “Huh?” I still didn't respond. He smacked me again. I looked into his eyes when I recovered. I showed him the emptiness that I had developed. That Anthony had caused. I showed him how soulless my eyes could be.
   “Don't ever touch me again.” I said calmly. He raised his hand again and I caught it before it connected with my cheek. “Anthony might be able to get away with it but I will not let you.” I let his hand go and turned back to my journal. It was a couple minutes before he turned around and left.

   Saturday. Mother and father still had something that was busying them. Mother had to go to her office and she was planning on scheduling an appointment with Mrs. Coop. Father was in his office on a conference call. I was, of coarse held up in my room with Anthony standing in my doorway.
   “Father has to go to work.” He said with a sly grin. I was sitting at my desk again. I stilled as he said it. He laughed harder.
   “Children!” My father yelled from down stairs. “Come down here.” I stood up and walked past Anthony and downstairs.
   “Yes father?” I said.
   “Yes father?” Anthony repeated.
   “I'm going to the office for a while. I have just to grab some things and then I will be out for a couple of hours.”
   “Will you be home by dinner?” Anthony asked. The little rat was seeing how much time he had.
   “Probably not. There is money on the counter since your mother won’t be home until later as well. So you can order out if you like.”
   “Thank you father.” Anthony said. My father walked back into his office and I made a beeline for my room. I closed the door but Anthony traipsed right in behind me shutting the door.
   “This is going to be lots of fun.” He said. “We have so much time on our hands.” I already started getting myself into my other self. By the time I was undressed and being shoved into I was gone. Anthony was making odd noises above me. I was saying my usual mantra of ‘no’ when my door opened. It was silent. Anthony didn't hear because he didn't stop. I came back to myself. My father was standing in my doorway.
   I let the pain that was filtering back through fill my eyes.
   “Help me daddy.” I whispered.
   “Daddy isn’t here.” Anthony scowled. And in a sense he wasn't. He looked surprised and then sick.
   “Please daddy, help me.” He shook his head slightly then closed the door behind him as silently as when he opened it. I knew then that I was defiantly alone.

   “Marie!” My father yelled from downstairs. I got slowly off my bed trying not to upset the screaming muscles any more. I walked downstairs and stood at his door to his office and knocked.
   “Come in.” I walked into his office and sat down without being asked to.
   “I have nothing that I want to say to you right now or ever.” I said as calmly as was humanly possible in that situation. All he did was hold my door key out to me. He didn't even look at me.
I snatched it out of his hand.
   “This is your solution,” I yelled, “To give me my key back? What the fuck?” He looked up at that. “You are going to allow your son to keep doing this to me? You aren't going to stop it? What the hell kind of father are you? I hate you! I hate you and your fucking son and I wish you both would get the fuck out of my life!” I threw my key at him and went back into my room opening up my journal.

   ‘He knows and he wont do anything. He knows and he won’t stop him. What the hell am I going to do?’