Chapter 10

I hopped out of the van, thanked Gabe's mom, took a deep breath, and stepped into the house.

Phil was sitting in his chair, eyes locked to the T.V. Sneaking past the kitchen, he heard me and stood up out of his smelly chair.

“Stop! What are you doing!” I screamed into his face, his large hands pinning me to the wall.

“Why don't you ever obey me!” he yelled back, stopping my circulation in my wrists.

“Because you don't deserve it!”

“That's it!” he dragged me to the stove, turned it on high, and smashed my arm to the heat.

I screamed in pain as the heat worked through my arm. He kept it there until both were red then threw me to the hard floor.

A tear trickled down my cheek, my head bashed to the counter.

He stomped away and continued watching T.V as I stood up and limped to the garage to get some ice for my arm. 

The three degree burns stung as the freezing ice pack lay on top of them. The cool air coming off the ice felt nice on my sweating face and dried up my tears.

 

The first thing I noticed was that I was on my cold garage floor. I must had fallen asleep. Standing up, I brushed the dust off my jeans and walked to the kitchen. The clock read six, which with my eating schedule, was a perfect time for lunch.

Although I didn't know why Phil wasn't home, I hopped on my old bike and rode to the quick mart. 

Sally, the redhead who opened up Sally's Quick Mart in 1977 came and worked at the shop every day. Gabe and I would often go there to get a soda or ice cream in the summer, and hot chocolate in the winter. 

Sally was one person that I could truly talk to. She knew about my dad and how he was both verbally and physically abusive, and she even knew about my tiny crush I had on Gabe and how I spied on him through his window at night.

“Annabel! Darlin', I have to show you something!” Sally called as I walked through the heavy door and it slammed shut behind me, the bell dinging.

I grinned and followed her to the soup aisle. 

“Take a wiff of this stuff, Girl!” she gave me a sample of the NEW! Sally's Clam Chowder Beef Soup from the mini Crock Pot on the foldable card table. 

The smell of the soup was possibly the most delicious smell to my senses. The salty smell from the beef was mouthwatering and the rich smell of clam chowder was mesmurizing and made me feel like melting into a puddle of soup myself.

I took a sip from the ounce size cup and closed my eyes in delight.

“Do you like it?” Sally asked, pleased.

“I don't like it.”

“What?”

“I LOVE it.”

Satisfaction ran across her face as she took a can off the shelf and handed it to me. “It's on the house.” 

“Aw, thanks Sally! You don't need to...”

She shoved off three more cans from the shelves and piled them in my arms. “Yes I do.”

I groaned even though I had four cans of the world's tastiest soup in my arms.

My stomach growled which was a sign to go home.

“Better start cookin'!”

I thanked her again and rode my bike home, the soup cans weighing down my shoulders.

Once I parked my bike against the front door, I heated up the stove, which I was now deathly afraid of, and poured the clam chowder beef soup into a pan.

As the sauce pan heated up, I wiped the windows with a wet cloth and put another load of laundry in the drier. 

Once the soup was cooked, I poured it out of the pan and into a paper bowl (in case Phil suddenly came home and wanted to chuck it at me, paper was safest.)

I called Gabe to say goodnight once I was done with my soup and went straight to bed not knowing when Phil would be home. 

A long school day was coming tomorrow. Joy.