Chapter Fifty-One

Everything was fine until Chris came over at nine that night, and demanded that Gemma come home.

"My mother wants her home tonight," Chris said, smiling at Mrs. Parker like he was just a caring big brother. "She's been staying with you too much."

"She was going to stay with her aunt tomorrow," Mrs. Parker said, holding the door open but blocking Chris from entering.

"She's got to come home now," Chris said, craning his head so that he could see inside the apartment. "Get your stuff and come with me, Gemma. Mom's waiting."

Gemma shook her head. "I'm not coming home," she said.

He raised his eyebrows, and she could see a muscle in his jaw pulse. That meant he was angry. Really angry. She knew that if she went home with him, she'd pay the price.

"If my mom has to call the police, she will," Chris said.

"Look, there's no need to call the police," Mrs. Parker replied, her voice sounding upset. "She was just staying here because she said you had no food in the house. She's hungry."

"We have food now," Chris replied. "My dad came back and brought groceries."

Mrs. Parker turned to Gemma. "Sweetie, you have to go home. I have no right to keep you here."

But Gemma just shook her head. "I'll come home in fifteen minutes. Trisha and I were just finishing our homework."

"Okay, but if you don't come home, Mom's calling the police." Chris smiled and then finally left. "Thanks, Mrs. Parker."

Mrs. Parker smiled back. Then she turned to the girls.

"Go finish your homework." She checked her watch. "You have twelve minutes and then you have to leave."

Gemma and Trisha went back to Trisha's bedroom. When Trisha closed the door, she turned to Gemma.

"What are you going to do? You have to go home."

"I'm not going home," Gemma said, shaking her head firmly. "I'll go to my aunt's place."

"It's late," Trisha said, plopping down on the bed. "I thought you said she works nights."

"I'll wait for her on her porch. I can sleep on the sofa they have on it. Look, I'll send her a text right now. I'll be fine."

Gemma took out the iPod her aunt gave her for her birthday and used the house's Wi-Fi to send a text to her aunt to let her know she had a fight and was coming to spend the night.

GEMMA: I'll stay on the porch until you get back from work, okay?

She didn't receive an answer and shrugged. She hadn't spoken to her aunt for a long time, but as far as Gemma knew, she was still living in the small house by the mall, working the evening shift. She was probably busy.

"See?" Gemma said and held up her iPod. "I sent a text. She's probably busy working and won't be able to reply for a while, but she'll be home at midnight."

"Gemma..."

Trisha didn't look happy at the prospect, but there was no way Gemma was going home -- not with the way Chris looked. His eyes were hateful, even though he'd been smiling.

No. There was no way she was going home to that.


When the time came, Mrs. Parker knocked on the bedroom door.

"Time to go, sweetie."

Gemma had already packed up her bag and stood up. "I gotta go. Don't say anything to Chris if he comes back looking for me, okay?" She slipped on her tennis shoes.

"What if they call the police?" Trisha's brows were knit, and she definitely looked like she was going to tell.

"Say I'm going to my Aunt's. As long as my mom thinks I'm safe, she won't care. It's Chris who wants me home so he can torment me."

"He's hurting you, right? Have you told your mom?"

"He'll hurt me even worse if I do," Gemma replied, sighing heavily.

"It's getting really dark," Trisha said. "You'll be in danger."

"I'll be fine. I used to sneak over here late at night before. I have my can of mace," she said and pulled out the small spray can. "I'll use it if I have to."

"Okay," Trisha said. Text me when you get there." Gemma nodded and walked to the door. From the kitchen, Mrs. Parker called out.

"Go straight home, Gemma."

"I will," Gemma said, feeling bad for lying but there was no way she'd go home to an angry Chris. Not ever again.

"See you in the morning," Trisha said. "Don't be late for school."

"I won't," Gemma said.

She waved at Trisha and walked down the hallway to the building's rear exit. Then, she went out the back way, taking the alley to the street where the bus stopped that would take her all the way to her aunt's part of town. Luckily, she had enough change to get her on the bus. She might have to walk a bit, but the streets were pretty lit up near the university, so she felt safe.

She made sure to sit directly behind the bus driver to be safe and waited for her stop to arrive. She didn't bother glancing around the bus, because she didn't want to make eye contact with anyone.

Finally, the bus came to the stop nearest to her aunt's house and she got off, the only person to do so at that stop. The cars whizzed by on the street as she walked along the sidewalk. She took the side street and walked the ten blocks until she arrived at her aunt's place. At the end of the block, the little craftsman was in bad need of repair, but it had a screened in porch and a big comfy sofa beside the door and in front of a bay window. Gemma could stay there until her aunt got home after midnight.

She'd be fine.

She settled down in the porch, taking out her iPod and sending Trisha a text to say she was fine and was on the couch at her Aunt's place. Luckily, there was free Wi-Fi due to her aunt’s internet so she could text Trisha.


GEMMA: It's nice here. Honestly, I'd rather spend every night here instead of at my place with Chris next to me.

TRISHA: As long as you're safe.

GEMMA: I'm safer here than there.

TRISHA: You should tell Mrs. Pinkus what's happening.

GEMMA: She'll only call the social worker and then I'll really get in trouble.

TRISHA: Chris is a bully. Bullies have to be stopped or they'll keep bullying.


Gemma never told Trisha about the things Chris did to her -- only that he bulled her endlessly when she was home and made her be his servant. Trisha understood that Gemma's mother was no help, yelling at them to stop fighting and grow up, but that did absolutely nothing to stop Chris from making Gemma play his 'game'. He was a pervert. That was all there was to it. A pervert.

Only a pervert would make their sister do those things. It was unnatural, she'd realized years after he started.

Now, she couldn't wait to move out and be independent so she could forget him. Maybe her auntie would let her live there and things would be better.

Gemma had plain reached the end of her rope.


The only problem was that Gemma's aunt didn't come home that night. Gemma fell asleep regardless, and woke hours later when someone parked in front of the house and slammed their car door. She jerked awake, and sat up, the sun having already risen, warm orange rays lighting up the neighborhood. She checked the time on her iPod and was shocked to see that it was already nine thirty in the morning.

Two men walked up the front walkway to the house.

She was in big trouble.

When the one man saw her, he stopped.

"Hey, kid, what you doing?"

The other man had his cell out and was calling someone -- maybe her aunt.

But there was no text from her aunt and Gemma couldn't understand where she was and why she hadn't returned home at midnight the way she always had.

"Uh, sorry," Gemma said and grabbed her backpack and things, stuffing everything back into it. "I was waiting for my aunt to come home. She told me I could come and stay with her sometimes."

She tried the lock on the front door, and that was when she saw inside and realized that the front room was being repainted. The furniture was covered with tarps. Inside, there was a ladder and some cans of paint inside on the floor.

"Who's your aunt?" one of the men asked. "Is she the owner? We're the painters hired to repaint it."

Gemma frowned. She wasn't sure if her aunt owned the house, but most of all, where was her aunt? Why hadn't she texted Gemma back to let her know she wouldn't be coming home?

"I'll leave," Gemma said as the two men walked towards the front porch, eying her suspiciously. "I guess my aunt is staying somewhere else while the house is being repainted."

"I guess," the one man said, a roll of some white cloth under his arm. "We're here to paint the interior. You're gonna have to leave or we'll call the owner."

"I'll leave," Gemma said and finished collecting her things.

Then, she left the house, walking past the two men.

She stopped on the sidewalk and sent another text to her aunt, this one desperate.


GEMMA: Auntie, where are you? I stayed the night on the sofa on the front porch, but you didn't come home, and I had to leave when some painters came to paint the inside. I'm not staying at my mom's place anymore. Chris and I always fight, and I can't stand how mean he is. He told me I'm his slave and I have to do everything he tells me. Please, can I stay with you?


She had to pee, badly, and glanced around. She decided to walk to the mall. She could use the bathrooms there.

She didn't have much money, but she'd just go to the mall and eat there after she went to the bathroom. It was nine thirty in the morning. If she was fast enough, she might get to the mall by ten when it opened. She had some change she'd stolen from her mother's purse over the past week, and some she got from selling a pack of her mom's cigarettes to one of the girls in the playground, so she could buy a smoothie from the Shake Hut in the food court. If she caught the bus, she might even catch Trisha before lunch. Most of all, she didn't want to miss too much school, because then she'd be taken to the see the Vice Principal and then she'd get in trouble for skipping yet again...