Chapter 3 - Lost and Found

Chapter 3

Lost & Found

The hot sun was beating down on my body as Karley and I lay out on the white sand of Westport beach, which was the only good beach on the island. I could hear the Ocean waves lapping against the shore, the laughs and screams of children, and seagulls making their presence known. A slight breeze pushed some of my hair onto my face, which woke me from a daydream that I was in paradise, away from the memories of last night. I opened my eyes and looked around the beach. There were some teenagers from ICHS I recognized playing volleyball to my far right, children making sandcastles ahead, and parents swimming in the ocean with their little ones, while seniors from school sat in the lifeguard seats monitoring the bustle; all enjoying the summer weather as news forecasts predicted overcast for the next week, the norm of the island.

It had been a while since Abe left any bruises on my body, making me feel more comfortable in the dark blue and green bikini with boy shorts I borrowed from Karley, satisfied the bottoms weren’t too revealing. I looked over and observed Karley who was lying on her stomach. She was wearing a bright red bikini with yellow orchid print, top unclasped to avoid a tan line on her back, and bikini bottoms that looked too small for her butt. Classic Karley, since her attitude was ‘flaunt what your momma gave yah’. Hopefully all of the parents were too distracted with their children to notice Karley’s beach attire, I chuckled to myself.  Karley was blessed in a few areas, with an hourglass figure any girl would die for, naturally wavy strawberry blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and a cute buttoned nose. But her blessings came with a few downsides when it came to sports; two double D sized ones in particular she constantly complained about.

I looked at the sky, grabbed my sunglasses setting in the white sand between me and Karley putting them over my eyes, one of which was still sore. “Were you just checking out my a*s?” Karley muttered.

“I was checking out what everyone else was,” I giggled as one of the boys playing volleyball, who I recognized from school, checked out Karley a second too long and got smacked in the head with a spike from the opposing team.

“Good.” Karley smiled, hooked her clasp and rolled over to face the sunlight. “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll check.” I sat up and scooted down the colourful beach towel, putting my feet in the warm sand, and grabbed Karley’s cell phone out of her beach bag. “It’s almost noon.”

“Good, I’m starved!” Karley sat up, “Would you pass me a bottle of water please?”

I grabbed a bottle of water from the bag and passed it to Karley and grabbed another, twisting off the cap and taking a big swig. “We just ate a couple hours ago.” I took another drink, replaced the cap and dropped it back into the bag.

“You know me, always hungry. Besides, I’ve got to eat an hour before practice.” Karley pulled her white strapless sundress over her head, and then stood up to wipe all the sand off it.

“That’s true.” I followed in-suit with my grey t-shirt and white shorts. Noting that Karley was coyly staring at the boys playing volleyball, I grabbed my bag and stood up in front of her to block the view of the volleyball net. “What do you have in mind for lunch?”

Karley pouted since she no longer had any man candy to look at, which made me smile until she said, “Taylor! Look out!”

I turned to see what Karley meant when I came face-to-face with a volleyball. My face instantly started to sting as I fell to the ground.  Karley dropped beside me and grabbed my shoulders. “Tay! Are you alright? Hello!?”

I looked past Karley at the clear blue sky, holding down mixed emotions of pain, embarrassment, and confusion. “Maybe, just a little stunned,” I squeaked.

“Phew, I thought for a moment you passed out!” Karley let go of my shoulders, stood up, and held out her hand. I took a couple more seconds to pull myself together, grabbed Karley’s hand, and slowly stood on my feet. Karley grabbed our bags from the ground and pulled out a bottle of Advil and handed a couple to me with a bottle of water.

As I was swallowing the Advil and felt the beginnings of a headache, a guy jogged over from the volleyball net. I could hear Karley mumbling something about ‘hotness’, as I quickly put the water bottle in Karley’s bag, and crouched down pretended to be busying grabbing our towels. “Are you okay?” he shouted as he got closer.

I looked up at him, thankful the sunglasses managed to remain on my face unscathed. “Yeah I’m fine. It didn’t hit me that hard.” I stood up with towels in hand, not being able to avoid looking at him. He was tall, about six feet or so, with wavy black hair and a strong jawbone. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which revealed a muscular chest along with strange tattoos on the sides of his abdomen and arms, although they weren’t his most startling feature; his eyes were. I couldn’t help but just stare into them, as being pulled into another realm. They were the brightest blue I had ever seen, and had a marble texture that seemed to be moving like a storm.

Karley noticed how intensely I was staring at him and cleared her throat. “She’s just saying that so             you won’t feel bad, it actually knocked her over.” She smiled at him.

I shot her a don’t-embarrass-me look.

He turned to her and smiled back, then bent over to pick up the volleyball. I noticed that Karley took the moment to check him out, and then wriggled her eyebrows at me. I rolled my eyes at Karley and stepped back to put some distance between me and the stranger. I had never seen him on the island before, and it was hard not to know everyone when the population was so low. When he stood back up he smiled at both of us turning to me, “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t realize how hard I served the ball.”

“It’s alright,” I replied, noticing for the first time the slight accent in his voice; my cheeks went hot. “Like I said it didn’t hit that hard.” I shuffled uncomfortably, which he seemed to notice.

            “Right,” he smirked and turned. “See you girls around,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back towards the two teams waiting for him.

            I turned towards the beach parking lot and started walking to Karley’s car, with Karley skipping to my side and grabbing my arm, “Oh-my-GOD he was so hot!”

            “Was he?” I decided to play dumb.

            “Very!” Karley squealed, “I wonder who he is? How old do you think he is? Maybe he’ll be starting school this fall?” Karley pondered.

            “What about Daren?”

“Daren who?” Karley stopped and asked. I gave her a puzzled look, “I’m kidding! But a girl does need options.” She giggled and started walking again.

We walked through the groomed treeline separating the beach from the shaded parking lot, reaching where Karley’s GT was parked. Karley dug the keys from her bag and popped the trunk. I threw the towels in the trunk, while she threw our bags on top of them, then we both got into the car.

            Karley stuck the keys in the ignition, and brought the car to life. She started to fumble with the CD player eventually finding a song she liked, backed out of the parking spot, and then drove out of the parking lot. Lucky for me the Advil was kicking in. “Did you see his eyes,” I asked?

            “No, I was too busy staring at his a*s,” Karley grinned, stopping at a four-way stop. “I thought you didn’t notice him.” She changed the song.

            “I didn’t notice him, just his eyes. They were… different from what I’ve ever seen.” I held my hair so it wouldn’t fly around in my face.

            “I noticed his a*s. Buns of steel,” Karley said with hunger in her voice. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

            The drive from the beach to Karley’s house only took ten minutes, because it was on the opposite side of the island. We pulled into the driveway, Karley grabbed our towels out of the trunk, and we headed into the house. “How long is your shift again?” Karley asked as we walked into the kitchen, she dropped everything by the island and grabbed an apple out of the fruit basket on the counter next to the fridge.

            I heard Karley take a bite as I took off my sun glasses and set them on the counter, “From four until eight,” I replied.

            As I was speaking there was a buzzing in the beach bag, so Karley stuck the apple in her mouth and flipped open her phone. “Alright, I should definitely be back by then,” she mumbled mouth full while reading the cell phone screen. I heard the click of the phone snapping shut, then a bite of an apple. “I’m thinking about the possibility of having some people over tonight.”

            “Who might those people be?” I pulled out a barstool from under the island and sat on it.

            “Rachel, Cullen, Brent, Olivia, and Adam,” Karley said with a smile on her face.

            “Firstly, Rachel doesn’t like me, and because of that I highly doubt Olivia does either, and secondly… Brent? Really? You know I’m working with him tonight.” I scowled at the thought to spending the evening with majority of Westport’s wealthy.

Rachel was one of the popular girls at school, and whose parents managed a bank on the mainland, but were from Westport and were homebodies. Olivia’s parents, both from Westport also, had management positions at a major franchise on the mainland, and Brent’s parents owned a fishery plant. I didn’t really know Cullen and Adam’s parents, but knew both of their parents worked and made enough to give them everything.

            “Rachel will not have a problem with you in my house since I’ve already told her that, plus I didn’t directly invite Brent over; he was with Rachel and Cullen when I asked if they wanted to come over and Cullen said he would only if he could invite Brent and Adam.” Karley shrugged and finished the rest of her apple, chucking the core into the sinks garbage disposal, “Something to do with not wanting to be the only guy here.”

            “I don’t understand why they go everywhere he does.” I shook my head.

            “They’re just like Olivia, minions to whoever gives them the most attention. Well, that apple was good and everything, but I’m going to heat up some pizza from last night. Want some?”

            “Nah, I think I’m going to run to the house now to clean up and grab some clothes.” I slid off the barstool and pushed it back under the island.

            “Alright, see you later!” Karley headed towards the fridge, “You want to stay here until Mom and Dad get home?”

            “Sure, no point in us both being home alone. Have a good practice,” I shouted as I walked into the foyer and slid on my sneakers, silently thankful for the invitation so I didn’t have to ask.

“Thanks! Do you want a ride home?” I heard Karley ask.

“I’m fine, it’s nice out.” I darted out the door before Karley had a chance to protest. It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for a ride home I just didn’t think it was necessary.

I walked back to my house, thinking about how the evening’s events would take place. Adam would probably get beer from his older brother for everyone, as he did whenever he was invited anywhere, Rachel and Olivia would ignore me, and I would in turn be forced to see Brent more this evening than needed. I just didn`t understand Karley’s need to use me as a pawn to get closer to Daren. It was aggravating in one sense, but in another I felt as though I owed it to her. She was the only reason why I felt sane. If I didn’t have her, I didn’t have anyone.

I walked from Water Street until I reached Gull Rock Road and stopped where asphalt met gravel. I couldn’t see the house from here, which was unfortunate. I knew Abe held a consistent schedule, but I liked to be cautious. I started walking, with a slower pace than I was used to for a couple minutes until the house came into view. His truck was gone, and relief washed over me. I sped up my pace towards the house, making a mental note of what needed to be done before I left.

I neared the driveway, taking in the house as I had done thousands of times before. Bushes surrounded the stone foundation of the house built back in the forties. It wasn’t hard to tell the house hadn’t been well maintained; some of the smudged vinyl siding was starting to fall off, the original wooden window frames desperately needed to be replaced, the roof needed re-shingling, and the stairs to the side entrance exhibited dry-rot. No wonder Rachel and Olivia torment me, I sighed. They didn’t seem to enjoy the company of ‘lower class’ individuals.

As always, I skipped the first two steps and carefully walked up the rest reaching the small deck of the side entrance. I grabbed the key hidden under the unwelcoming welcome matt and unlocked the door. Pushing it open, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I didn’t bother taking off my shoes knowing how dirty the house was. I looked to my right and saw the basement steps, sending a chill down my spine. B*****d, I thought. I looked ahead and walked into the brightly lit kitchen.

The sun shone through the kitchen windows above the empty sink. The once clean dishes were smashed all over the floor, along with the dish rack. Better place than ever, I sighed to myself, and grabbed the broom that was also lying on the floor next to the dining table.

I salvaged any dishes I could, throwing the rest in the garbage bin, and recycled all of the beer cans (money I also put into my savings.) After wiping down the counters and sweeping and moping the floor, I moved on to the living room doing the same: salvaging anything not broken, throwing away pieces of broken glass, picking up beer cans, then sweeping the floor and hallway leading to the bedrooms. I took my shoes off, making sure the floor was dry, and put them in the entry of the kitchen before making my way down the hall to my room.

I took in the scene, trying not to relive the memories of last night setting myself up to fail. My knees became weak and I fell to the floor in sobs as the uninvited scene erupted in my mind.

I was in the kitchen just finishing up the rest of the supper dishes, trying to be as quiet as possible. Abe had been passed out on the couch for over an hour, the television still on. I went to put the last fork in the rack, but it slipped back into the sink, making a loud clang. I froze, looking at the dozen or so beer cans on the counter, praying that it didn’t wake him. I waited, anticipating to be yelled at, but all I heard was the television. With a sense of relief, I finished tiptoeing around the kitchen, and put the beer cans in a recycling bag as quietly as possible. I jumped when I turned from the counter to see Abe slightly leaning against the entryway to the living room. My heart dropped. I avoided his gaze, and set the bag next to the garbage bin by the dining table.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” he slurred, lazily pointing at them with one hand while holding a bottle of rum in the other.

I looked at this poor excuse of a man whom I was supposed to call Father. His blue eyes were dull and glazed over, his light brown greying hair greasy along with his growing beard. He was a few inches taller than my height of five feet and two inches, with a bit of a beer belly, although still quite in shape for his lifestyle.

“I’m cleaning up from supper, and then going to my room.” I quickly looked to the floor, afraid to go past him but afraid to stay.

“You’re not going anywhere until I say you can go anywhere.” He stood straight, blocking the entryway, “Get me another beer from the fridge,” he ordered before taking a swig out of the rum bottle.

I slowly turned to the fridge and opened the door, “You don’t have any beer left,” I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral.

“What did you just say to me?” his brow creasing down.

“I said you don’t have any beer left. There isn’t any beer in the fridge.” I turned towards him, letting the refrigerator shut gently behind me.

He stood there for a few seconds, processing what I had said, “You liar,” he grumbled as he stalked toward me and shoved me out of the way, a dining chair pinched my side. He pulled the refrigerator door open so fast I heard some contents fall on the floor, “You little b***h, you drank my beer! I knew you were stealing behind my back,” he slammed the door shut.

I quickly left the room, and briskly walked down the hall to my room, hoping that if I wasn’t around he’d just forget and let it go, as he had in the past. That was how it always started, he drank all of his beer, accused me of stealing and he’d grumble about it for a while and turn to the rest of his rum before passing out, or he’d get extremely angry.

I felt relief after holding my breath for a minute and only hearing silence, and thought I was in the clear. Well, you know what ‘thought’ did. I could hear him mumbling, something about August. “S**t,” I whispered, looking for a place to hide when I heard ripping of the calendar, a loud crash in the kitchen, an outburst, and his feet stomping down the hallway towards my room. I didn’t have a bedroom door to shut and lock, so I crouched down to hide under my bed, but not fast enough. With one swift motion, he grabbed my little wooden desk chair and smashed it over my legs and back. Luckily it was light, but not light enough.

I screamed in pain, “You think you can take from me and just walk away?” he grabbed my feet and pulled me from what little way I had made under the bed. He grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me into the wall, and punched me in the face when I turned towards him. He staggered back, surprised when I pushed him and ran for the kitchen screaming, “Hurting me isn’t going to bring her back.” 

I ran for the porch and put my shoe on with haste and was almost ready to run outside when he pushed me down the steps. Luckily, they weren’t that steep. Unlucky for me, I hit the back of my head on the stone floor.

“Get up! I’m not done with you yet girl!” he shouted.

I shook the memory from my head, slowly picked myself off the floor, and sat on my bed while looking around the room. I took a few deep breaths, and tried to calm myself. I put my fingertips to my temples, trying to prevent the headache about to ensue. After a minute I looked over at the clock on the floor, miraculously intact, which read two thirty. I picked up what was left of my chair and took it to the kitchen, topping off the garbage bag with the broken dishes. I went back to my room and straightened what little I had and made my bed. I decided I would put my books away in the tiny closet beside the non-existent bedroom door. I opened the closet door and a couple shoe boxes fell, almost hitting me in the face.

            I stood still, heaved a sigh, put the books on one of the shelves, and bent over to pick up the first shoe box whose contents didn’t spill, and placed it back on the shelf, making sure it was placed so it wouldn’t fall again. The next box had spilled papers, and odds and ends I had kept from my childhood when I lived with my grandmother. I carefully placed them back into the box, and tucked it back in my closet.

            After finishing my practically empty room, I decided to have a quick look in Abe’s room to make sure there wasn’t anything that needed to be cleaned, in fear he would become angry if I didn’t. The door slightly creaked when I opened it, and a stale smell hit my nostrils. I almost gagged, and decided that his room was in dire need of a cleaning. I walked in and saw beer cans everywhere, accumulated over the last week presumably. I didn’t dare enter his room when he was home.

            I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of recycling bags, slightly happy about my ever growing savings, and somewhat horrified as to the amount of alcohol the man could consume.

After I’d finished picking the beer cans up I looked around the room. He didn’t have much for furniture in here: the unmade bed located directly across from the bedroom door under the only window with a night table beside it, and a couple dressers beside the closet. In the corner of the room by the closet a lay heap of laundry. There were papers scattered around the bed, an oversized shoe box in front of the night table, and the drawer to the night table partially open. I decided I wasn’t going to touch any of the papers, until a picture caught my eye. Don’t do it, I scolded myself, you know what will happen if you touch his things.

Years back I’d made the mistake of moving his night table so I could clean some spilled beer, and the consequence had been a bruised rib. After that I learned a few lessons growing up: don’t touch his stuff, don’t talk about my family, and never talk back. I began to feel weary of simply being his burden. I could feel rage well throughout my body, knowing that I’d had enough of his abuse. Last night was the final straw, and I decided I would stay no more. I could tell Karley, because I felt safe with her. Getting away would be difficult because everyone on the island knew him, but not the side I did. I was sick of lying for him, and sick of being his punching bag. I’m sick of him; this realization infuriated me.

I dropped the bag of beer cans and marched over to the night table where the picture lied, and grabbed it. There was a woman standing in front of an old Chevrolet, her eyes bright brown and long straight ash brown hair stopping short of her swollen belly, encompassed by loving hands. Her most breathtaking feature was her smile, a smile that could light up any room. Tears welled in my eyes as I caressed the face of the woman staring at me with my thumb. The only picture I had seen the two of us together in. Oh Mom, I thought, if only you could be here.

            I put the picture in my back pocket, and didn’t worry about the consequences. She was my mother, and I deserved to have this picture. I looked around to see if there were any more, feeling rebellious. There were a couple of her pre-pregnancy, but none during or after. I peeked in the night side drawer and saw a leather bounded journal. I flipped through the pages and saw handwriting I didn’t recognize, until I flipped to the beginning and saw Donna Maye Darres written on the first page. My Mother’s journal!

            “A*****e!” I screamed; anger welled in my chest. I collected myself, knowing I didn’t have much time to linger. How dare he keep this from me? I fumed as I stomped out of the room, slammed the door to Abe’s room, and clutched the journal with my other hand. I stormed to my room to get ready for work, and contemplating for the first time in my life how nice it would be if Abe’s fishing boat happened to sink.

Reviews

[Alleyway Rover]

Overview: Another good chapter.
It's obviously still early in the book, but I like how things are slowing falling into the place and the conflict is ramping up at this point.

I don't have a lot to say except I do want to ask one question. This might be answered in another chapter and if it is, ignore me.

It sounds like this is not the first time she's had to clean up after her dad, no it actually seems to be regular occurrence bordering on daily routine. Nor is it the first time she’s had to clean up his room. My question is why today? I assume she’s seen that picture before, or at least there was nothing to indicate that she hadn’t and she seemed to recognize it pretty quickly. So what made her decide to take the picture for herself today as opposed to the other tens or hundreds of times she’s been cleaning his mess?
Why is she just now finding the journal? What made her want to take that as well?
Why is she just now finding the envelope with the necklace?

I feel like something has suddenly changed, if only just slightly, between your main character and her father, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. The most obvious answer is the fact that she stabbed him last night, but nothing in chapter 2 or 3 has really emphasized that moment as especially powerful.

That’s the only thing that really jumped out at me. Nice, well written piece and this chapter especially seemed to contain just the right balance of description and plot to keep the story moving at a decent pace. Nice work.
Cheers!

[OrvisEd]

"I looked around to see if there were any more, feeling rebellious."
At this point it's safe to assume that normally Taylor will go in and pick up the beer cans and garbage in Abe's room, but that's as far as she goes. She's not one to snoop around his space, let alone stay in the house longer than she can help it; answers will come the further you read. Abe is also not the type of man to leave 'evidence' in his room, so the reader is left to assume that the night before his altercation with Taylor (while drunk) he went through his pictures of his wife but failed to put them away due to intoxication. She's something he clearly becomes so enraged over, as if he's trying to protect a ghost. Abe blacks out, forgets the pictures are on the floor (beer cans are covering them), and carries through the day until we are introduced into the story.

I don't spend much time developing Abe's character (his feelings, thoughts, etc.), as he doesn't stick around long (you'll find out why later), but you do find that while Taylor is currently living in a terrible situation she also had a taste of a normal life with her Grandmother, and continues to have a sense of normalcy with Karley.

I hope this clears a few things up, and makes you want to continue to figure out the rest =]

OrvisEd

[Alleyway Rover]

And that makes sense, she doesn't strike me as the type to just snoop... but she does. What I am getting at is that this story is going to (hopefully) change Taylor's life forever and this might be the first glimse of what she will become.

It just strikes me as a critical moment for Taylor. She might not know why she suddenly decided to defy her father, but you, as the author, certainly should and recognizing these changes and expounding upon them is one of the major factors of character development, I feel.

[OrvisEd]

She is sick of her situation, and her actions at the beginning of the book do shadow the person she is to become, but it's not a change that happens dramatically and over night. I wanted to make her relatable for other young girls and not rush things. I guess my explanation before was just *how* she came to snoop. You'll read in another chapter that she's actually done something like this before but in a safe environment, and with Karley's influence (of course, haha).

[OrvisEd]

Another thing I'd like to point out: people who tend to be abused and beat down don't usually have the self-esteem to leave, and they feel that the reason they're treated this way is because of something they did. Taylor is majorly struggling with feeling she killed her mother and that her father blames her. Aside from the fact that she has nowhere else to go she feels like she owes him something, and feels bad that she's the cause of his suffering. She can't leave him alone because of this, but he's also instilled that fear which makes her stay as well. Abuse causes a complicated way of thinking, and I understand that not everyone will see it the same way I do.

[Alleyway Rover]

Of course all you are saying here is true. I believe that your character is sick of her situation and is looking for a way out. I also understand your point about those who have been abused, although I don't see that coming out in the character you have written. Maybe it's just me, and always remember this is just one dude's opinion, but she doesn't seem to feel that obligation. She seems pretty aware that her father is abusive and it's not her fault. There's nothing in the text that seems to indicate that she feels responsible for her mother's death and, if she does, I not getting that sense of obligation you talk about. I feel she has an obligation to keep the house and appear normal, but I don't see where she claims an obligation to Abe. But I also understand that her self-esteem is an issue. That's probably why she tries so hard to keep anyone else from finding out as opposed to coming out in the open. That's probably why she is waiting to leave.

That is all pretty clear and pretty well written, I must say.

I feel like I've blown this out of proportion. This is really not that huge of an issue, it really isn't. It's not like I don't buy the entire plot because I don't understand how this one piece fits in. (I should also probably state for the record that I am a complete idiot when it comes to subtext and subtle messages... I need the Cliff Notes in order to read anything by Hemmingway.) It's just a tiny piece of the puzzle that just doesn't quite fit for me.

I don't understand why a raging drunk would, of all the days he spends staggering around three sheets to a very ill wind, suddenly choose this day to be careless about all this stuff he has lying around his room. I'm not saying it's impossible but if this is the first chink in his otherwise perfect armor then there's nothing in the text to suggest that right now. Furthermore, if this is really the first time he's had this stuff lying willy nilly around his room, then something is different. Something has changed.

Everything you've brought up regarding Taylor is ongoing. I don't think she's suddenly realized that her father is a drunken sociopath and that she needs to get out of this place. She hasn't suddenly realized that her mother's death wasn't her fault.

Something made Taylor bold enough to start snooping around her dads room.

Something caused Abe to suddenly get careless about where he left pictures of his wife and her things.

And I'm going to leave it at that. This scene is powerful to me, but I don't understand what specifically has caused it. Perhaps it doesn't need a direct cause, but I feel that it should have one. I think it makes for a better story.

But that's just my opinion.

[OrvisEd]

You'll find out why he was careless later.. and also why Taylor noted the ripped calendar and why Abe got angry about 'August'. Just keep reading, I promise that questions and confusions will be answered. If you get to the end of what I have uploaded and still are puzzled about a few things just let me know, as this will help to build on and clarify what I already have.

I know what you mean about Cliff Notes and subtext; I need Spark Notes in order to understand anything about Hegel! I'm trying to make my story a simple read, and I've put it on here so I can get feedback like you're giving me. =]

I appreciate you challenging this, cause it'll make it better in the end!

[OrvisEd]

I've update this chapter, please review if you're up for it and let me know what you think. =]

[Alleyway Rover]

Been skim reading you past chapters. I see quite a few improvements. In this chapter, I see that you've drawn the cause and effect between the events in the first chapter and these. I like that. It shows the boundries and why, today of all days, she is crossing them.

As you move forward with this, you might examine that moment a little farther and bring some of the conflict out. Right now she's kind of "I know I shouldn't do it, but I'm going to do it anyway, neener neener." Get us right in her head. Is she afraid? Is she just driven forward by sheer rage alone? Does she hesitate? If so why? If not why? What is she doing? Is her hand shaking? Does she jump at the slightest noise? Or does she haphazardly throw crap around in pure defiance?

It's a good moment right here. Keep polishing and it could be a great one.

[Sue Hart]

This chapter was more like the first...capturing my interest and making me say more, more. Good job.