Kite In The Snow by Karla Lopez

 

I watch my food with disinterest. It doesn’t taste good to me, nothing does anymore. I feel numb to my surroundings and it’s getting me into more trouble with my father and Travis.

The only thing I feel is pain and you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not—not even a little.

“Mae, stop fucking staring at your food and eat. You’re already too skinny,” my dad says angrily.

I know not to mess with him when he’s angry, so I obey and stay quiet. I lean forward, and as soon as the food comes near and I sniff it, bile runs up my throat.

I dash out of my chair and barely make it to the toilet and empty my stomach. My muscles contract against each other, forcing me to keep throwing up, but there’s nothing left in my stomach.

My mom comes behind me and rubs my back and hands me a rag to clean my face with. When I turn toward her, I see it in her eyes. She knows.

Without saying a word to each other, we make our way back to the table. I can feel my dad’s angry eyes on me, and it makes my skin crawl.

“Mae Beth, you better pray to God that you haven’t been spreading your legs for that boy before marriage like a whore. I and God will not tolerate it, and especially if you bring a bastard into this world out of marriage,” my dad says while his eyes trap me like a deer in front of headlights.

I try to keep my breathing even because I don’t even know if I’m pregnant. I know there’s a big chance, considering that Travis has never used a condom and I’m not on birth control, but I didn’t want any of that. Not that any of that will matter because I will still be blamed for becoming pregnant. It will be my fault.

I stay quiet because I can’t say anything to what he said. Would God really punish me for something I had no control over? What is this life I was handed? Filled with pain, bruises, and hate.

I wish I could run away.

 

 

I snuggle closer into myself, trying to keep warm inside my winter jacket. I’ve been sitting on the bench longer than usual, but my feet are killing me, and I can’t walk anymore. I also don’t have much money left for food.

Worry prickles my skin that I can’t find a job. Maybe coming to the most isolated state wasn’t a good idea, but I’m so scared of Travis and his family finding me. They have the resources, and I’d rather die than allow my child to grow up with Travis.

I take another sip of the hot chocolate the beautiful, tattooed guy with the poetry eyes brought me. I was awestruck staring at him. He was truly beautiful. His tall, lean body was filled with black ink all over his hands and some on his neck. That’s the most I could see with his clothes covering him.

His dark brown, shaggy hair under the black beanie he had on made me want to take it off and run my fingers through it. It looked soft and silky. And his poetry eyes covered by his Harry Potter glasses filled me with so much hope. It was a scary thought to have over a stranger, but there’s no denying I felt the connection.

I refused to go into his shop because even though I know somehow deep in my heart he was doing it to be kind, I couldn’t bring myself to go in.

It scares me to accept anything from anyone. I’m scared that will make me vulnerable to someone again. I don’t want to ever go through what I went through, especially with my baby. They don’t deserve pain; they didn’t choose to be a part of this world.

My only goal in this life is to make my baby as happy as they can be because I didn’t have that. From my strict parents to my abusive boyfriend.

I will make it happen for both of us. I just need to find a job soon. I stand and instantly my feet ache in pain, but I push through it and make my way toward Walmart.

 

 

Later in the evening, I can’t bare my sore feet anymore and decide to head back to the bench. The guy from the shop is making his way in the opposite direction. His eyes meet mine, but only for a second because fear gawks at me.  I look away from him.

When I look again, I see there is about ten small children with him. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I openly stare at them, but don’t look at him again.

They make their way inside and I watch them through the glass of the shop. I see the guy lean down and whisper something in one of the little girl’s ear, and before I know what’s happening, the little girl is running back outside toward me.

She stands in front of me and tilts her head. “You are pretty.”

I chuckle at her and watch her as if I’ve never seen a child before. I internally roll my eyes at myself.

“What?” I question.

“Mr. Wyatt said you were pretty.” My brows crease in confusion as I watch her.

“And who is Mr. Wyatt?” She turns and points toward the guy of the shop, and I watch him duck behind the counter while another guy in a man bun laughs.

“Our hockey coach, silly.” She giggles at me.

“That’s your coach?” She nods at me, and I look back and see him staring at me. What kind of young guy loves to be around kids? Knowing that about him makes me want to melt, but anyone can appear good when they’re not.

I focus my attention back to the little girl. “What is your name?” I ask her.

“Eli.” She beams as she says her name, making me smile.

“Hi, Eli. My name is Mae.” She giggles before she asks.

“Like the month?” I laugh with her.

“Yes, sweetie. Just like the month.”

“That’s so cool,” she says as her little hands snuggle into her jacket more. She must be freezing.

“Why don’t you go back inside, you look cold.”

“Okay.” She runs towards the door before I call her name again.

“Why did you come out here in the first place?”

She watches me as she tries to process what I just asked. I know she must be five or six, but I know she’ll understand me.

“Mr. Wyatt wanted me to get your name,” she whispers loudly as if it’s a secret. Maybe to her it is. She makes her way back inside.

I look toward the window and see the guy—Wyatt—still staring at me. He gives me a small wave and the warmest smile I have ever seen. He points to an empty table inside his shop, but I simply look away.

Don’t take anything from anyone, Mae, that’s how you get hurt.