Safe

• Sarah Clark, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2010

They say your mind deems a situation safe when you’ve experienced it before. You know what to expect; therefore, you’re not in any danger.
The problems begin when things change.
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The day started off badly. I woke up at six, readied myself for school, and was sitting in the dining room eating breakfast when I received a text from my boyfriend, Justin: I’ll pick you up after school. Meet me at the front gate x J.
Ok, I texted back, my heart sinking. Dad wasn’t going to like this.
I tiptoed upstairs to Dad’s room, and knocked on the door.
“What do you want?” he growled as I walked in.
“Um,” I began nervously, “Justin’s going to pick me up from school today.”
Slowly, my dad pushed back the sheets and stood up. He staggered over to me.
“I don’t want you to see him any more,” he said flatly. “He’s too old for you.”
“It’s only two years,” I protested. “And you don’t control me!”
Then I ran out, deciding to deal with the consequences later.
School was horrible – I was hopelessly behind, and couldn’t seem to catch up. The torture seemed to drag on forever, until finally the bell rang. After school, while I was fixing my makeup, Rachel cornered me.
“Amara, what’s going on with you?” she wanted to know. “I never see you. It’s like ever since you started going out with Justin, you don’t have time for your friends.”
“I’m sorry, Rach,” I said as I applied more eyeliner. “I’ve just been really busy lately, you know? I’ll-”
“And what’s with all the makeup?” she went on.
“Justin likes it when I wear makeup,” I said quietly. “He says it makes me look pretty.”
Rachel was silent for a moment. I finished with my makeup, and turned my attention to my hair.
“What happened to you?” she said eventually.
I turned. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. “You never used to wear makeup, or spend every minute fixing your hair. You used to be confident enough that you knew you looked beautiful without any of that stuff.”
“Whatever,” I said, picking up my bag. “I have to go. Justin’s picking me up.”
As I strode past, Rachel grabbed my arm.
“Just tell me something,” she said slowly. “Are you ok?”
I nodded. “I’m ok. Seriously. I’m totally safe with Justin.”
She sighed, and let go of my arm. “Ok. See you later.”
“Bye.”
I hurried away. Justin would be annoyed I was taking so long.
I was right. We were the only ones in the car park, and when I got into the car he slapped me, hard, across my face.
“You’re late,” he snapped as we drove away.
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered.
I’d told Rachel the truth about Justin: with him, I was safe. I always knew what to expect. This was what I was used to.
To me, this was safe.