‎2016TO PROTECT THE GUILTY BY HEIDI LORRAINE SCHEIRER

By: Heidi L. Scheirer

Chapter One

I sit on a bed reading a diary. Sometimes I cry and sometimes I laugh.

The pain I feel is overwhelming when I remember it's my diary. Only the humming of the heater breaks the silence in the room. Curtains fly on the sides creating shadows on the dimly lit walls. Traffic goes by giving occasional light in the dim motel room. I grab the pad in the drawer by the side of my bed. I lie on the bed and begin to scribble away with an old pen. My thoughts go backwards in time.

My family and I live in a three-bedroom rancher. A white picket fence wound around the front yard. A station wagon was parked in the driveway. Our neighborhood is clean, and we can leave our door unlocked at least during the day. Our house was a pleasant place to grow in. The yellow kitchen is country style, and shelves of fake fruit line our pretty bright walls. A white refrigerator was in the corner, with pictures of the family on the sides. In our capacious living room, a television, couch, and chair are all neat and tidy in corners. On shelves lies things my sister Lacy and I have been making for our parents for years. We have a back deck that daddy and Uncle Bill built years ago.

My room is big and blue with space for decorating the way I choose. I had pink and blue plushy hearts on my wall, and a Holly Hobby wall clock ticks on my other wall. My bed has a blue comforter on it with white puffy clouds peeking through the blue softness of my bed. I don't have little girl ribbons or hair doodads on a dresser. I do have an insane collection of baseball hats; a few scattered homework assignments and a pack of big league gum that I chew furiously when I have a big softball game. I love to play, and it's one of the few things I feel I'm really good with. I play second base, and sometimes I catch.

The hot New Jersey sun drives beads of sweat down the player's backs'. I sit on the bench with the other girls. The coach turns to me and says, "You're up Hanna." I nod to the coach, grab my favorite bat, walk up to the plate, spit, kick the dirt, and put up my bat. The pitcher of the softball game looks to second, and pitches. Whack! I slam the ball right to her chest. She utters a curse under her breath, gathers the ball, and purposely threw it at my knee! I fall into the hard orange dirt, cutting my hands and knee from the fall. Coach decides to send me home, because I limp for the rest of the game. I sit on the couch at home still tipped at Tara for ruining my game. The gal of her throwing the ball at me on purpose just because I hit her in the chest by accident!

I grumpily sit on the couch flipping through nighttime reruns on the television. Lacy my twelve-year-old sister comes into the living room to taunt me. "Limply Hanna is limp!" She said, swirling her blond hair around her face. "Shut up, Lacy gassy." I said, making a face at her. I yell at her until mom comes in the room to yell at her to stop. Lacy is two years older than me, and acts like it. Daddy comes home from his job at computer inc. The four of us sit to dinner and eat. "What did you do at work today daddy?" I asked him. He turns to mother and starts to tell her about his day. I throw off being ignored and begin to flick peas at Lacy. "Stop it limply." She said. "Stop it limply." I repeated. "Shut up." She said, mad now. "Shut up." I repeat. "Lacy spacey." I said. "Shut up right now!" Daddy yelled at me. The only reason Dad ever says anything to me when he reprimands me, or corrects me. I glare at him; glad he can't read my thoughts. My parents do always see to my needs, I never lack anything, even love. If I'm good enough to receive any love. I realize I have to be really good if I'm going to get any love. I get angry when I notice this, because Lacy is always so damn good. It's as if I have a chain of resentments already against my parents, just for giving birth to me.

Our family argues about most everything. Lacy is never nice to me, unless she feels sorry for me. I usually find one of her favorite things, and break it. Mom and I argue about school grades, because I never seem to do as well as Lacy. Dad is a big man I fear, but don't respect too often. We usually yell at each ochildren make me hate them, and I'm afraid to do anything in class, because I'll get laughed at. Most of the time, I find solace in my room, where I'm away from the hatred sneer of the children. If no one plays with me I can hide for hours thinking of magical worlds, and fighting fake dragons.

I read books to be smarter than everyone is, so I can someday beat them at their own game! I write stories where everything turns out in the end. I get so involved in my world, that I never see the harsh reality of life that come crashing on my head, when I get screamed at for something. Sometimes I imagine a monster lives inside me, and is dwelling. He is ready to come out and explode at any minute. I'm afraid of this dwelling monster afraid I can no longer control him. My short hair is brown. One of the Sander's traits is to have brown hair and brown eyes. We all have brown hair and brown eyes, but for Lacy with her blond in a bottle. I giggle, sneak into her room, and empty her sun-in in the sink.

I try to wear all black to conceal my weight, so I don't stick out more than I already do. Mother is constantly on my back for this. "You should wear light little girl clothes." She says. "Daddy and I give you so many nice things." She is also on me to pick up after myself. I do it on purpose to annoy her, like she annoys me all of the time, with her lectures. "Hanna pick up your glasses off of the counter tops!" She yelled through my door. I sit in my room and giggle at her. That's our biggest argument, next to our study arrangements. Mother is always at me to study more. Be more like Lacy who never seems to get anything lower than a B in school.

My math is atrocious, I study twice as hard as the other students just to keep a little ahead. Mrs. Plumbing calls mother to set arrangements to go to her apartment to help with my math. Her apartment is nice. She has a passion for Disney characters, so she has little glass dolls in her shelves. We take class trips to places like Washington, Philadelphia, and even once went to New York for a day. I hate these trips. I like them well enough if mom and dad go along, but most of the time I'm alone. I had a good time in New York, because in the city people are more like me, a freak.

I have a pretty large family. I have an Aunt Terry and Uncle Peter, who are close to us. Aunt Terry is my mother's sister, who has two children with her husband Peter. Their children are my cousins, Robert and Lisa. Robert is away for the military in Germany, and Lisa is living with her parents. Lisa is ten years older than I am, and very mature for her age. Sometimes I can tell her what's on my mind. The mother of my Aunt Terry, and my mom is my grandmother, who we all call Nana. Nana is the most wonderful person in the world. I look into her soft light blue eyes, and can feel the love she has for me. Sometimes Nana is the only one I feel who loves me no matter what I wear, or have on my report card. Nana also has another son, my Uncle Bill. I personally cannot stand the man. He has two children with his wife, Aunt Flora. Lisa and Billy are four years apart. Little Billy was born with Down syndrome and the parents went through a difficult stage, wondering if it was going to be worth the trouble to keep him. In the end, they decided to and lived together, until Bill later in life, divorces Aunt Flora and takes little Billy with him.

My father's side of the family is a little off center. He has a brother, my Uncle Rob. They used to be close when their parents lived together, traveling from state to state, becoming truly brothers, when friends were no longer a possibility, when they moved so often, due to lack of work for their father. Grandfather killed himself when my father barely turned sixteen, so none of us ever got to know either Grandfather. Nana's husband died way before I was born. Nana never remarried or had another man since her husband died of cancer. Uncle Rob and daddy got into a lot of trouble in the past from their drinking and carrying on. I vaguely remember a story where my daddy shot my Uncle, fooling around while they drank. Uncles Rob survived, and went on to marry my Aunt Tracy. UncleRob also had a child by his first wife, who is my cousin, but I only met him once when I was too little to remember him. Between school and my dysfunctional family, I have a lot of worries for a ten-year-old.

I sit alone at school on the swing, feeling the new spring breezes and trying to imagine a New World. Children scatter, playing ball, or jumping rope. I see a purple dragon flying overhead, as I swing back and fourth. Suddenly out of the clear sky, a rock gets chucked at my head, and the dragon disappears.

A boy of about ten laughs, and grabs my fallen hat. He runs fast, but I don't give chase. I watch which direction he goes in, and see him laughing while he throws my hat in the mud, and stomps on it. "You're deranged!" I yelled at him. He takes a clump of dirt and throws it at me. Dumb! Was just a dumb kid! The bell for class rings and I scoop down to pick up my hat. With my shoulders in a slump, and my fists clenched, I walk on to class. The rest of the year more or less goes on like this. My self-esteem disappears. Day by day the harsh treatments of the children breaks down my soul. On a second note, I decide this is when my systematic thinking process gets jumbled. With the process of abuse from peers, and never feeling accepted, I struggle most of my life to gain self worth, respect for myself, and most of all to eventually feel my life is worth staying around.

The school year finally ends. I have a boring summer, but at least I'm away from the kids. Lacy is actually nice to me, because she realizes I don't have anyone else. She lets me join a club her two friends who are sisters have made. The club called Independent's children club gets old soon. The members want me to leave because I am so young. We had buttons, and even weekly dues. All of them are older, and I often go off by myself. Although treated nice, I'm not equal to them. I'm always passing the time between sleeping and playing. There are only so many things a person can do on their own. I've gotten very quiet, and stay mostly to myself growing deeper with my resentments as the summer months slowly pass. I get lost in my own worlds. I become a stranger to myself not even wanting to be around myself, let alone anyone in the family. I always try to be someone I'm not. I think of my magical worlds, and sometimes can write out my thoughts bringing me back to reality.

Fifth grade is no easier than fourth was. I have this teacher who lacks in personality, looks, and a pleasant smile. You name it she has a problem with it. Mrs. Walen is a corrupt hag with grayish blond hair, and wears business suits to give her airs. She has class pets and treats the children in the class differently in a bad way. Of course Anne is her favorite. She runs errands for Mrs. Walen all of the time. Anne does things I won't stoop to do for anyone. Mrs. Walen lets her choose who has to clean the room, and do the blackboards. Anne usually makes a big deal about which person she's going to choose then points to me every time. Such as life what can I do?

In a dodge ball game the boys are on one side and the girls are on the other. I stood next to Michelle, and suddenly someone shoves me from behind and into the center of the lion's den! Everyone starts to laugh at me, and the boys start to throw dirt at me. A clump lands in my hair, and I'm compelled to start yelling.They throw tons of bouncing rubber balls at my head.

Something tells me to look to the teacher. She sits in the classroom, and watches from her window, sees me, and turns away. Not for the first time, I wonder why a woman who obviously hates children, would want a teaching position. I don't hurt really. I get up, and run away from the laughter, hearing Michelle, "Hanna wait!" I turn in the school, and go into the bathroom to clean myself off from dirt. I look into the cracked dirty mirror of the dingy girl's room, and think that someday I will get back at all of them. Somehow someway I will get them back for all of this.

At home, Lacy hides in her room when I beat on her door. "Come on Lace, play with me." I almost pleaded. I walked to my room, giving up on Lacy, and tried to play by myself. I have an imaginary friend, no one knows about. His name is Herbert, and sometimes I can tell him what's on my mind. He is good to me, but he scares me when he wants me to get back at those kids. I write about everyone, and in the end I always get all of the people who hurt me. Sometimes, Herbert tells me everything is all right. "You're not so bad Hanna." He says.

Tonight I sit by my bedroom window, letting hot tears flow down my cheeks. I think of a world where everyone is nice to you, no matter what you might look like. I'm miserable and hate myself. I wish I had a friend. Someone I can be with, and someone who will be nice to me. In stories I read, and often write about, the girl is the prettiest in the land, and has her prince carry her off into another magical world. Will I ever have a friend, let alone a prince to carry me away? Will I ever be full of that giddy humor I see the girls have at school? Then I don't really want to be like them, full of shallow nothingness. I still would like to smile, and mean it. Why can't people like me? Why am I so different? I wonder more and more often. Not for the first time, I turn to bed, and cry myself to sleep.

Hot lava and smoke cloud my nostrils. I can't breath. The world crumbles beneath me, and starts to crack away. Bubbles of hot red coal form around the place I stand. A man with a machete tries to slice me, and the last thing I can hear is a metal knife scraping against the crumbling earth. I see the blade come for me, as wake screaming. Mom turns my light on, and comforts me. "Ssh Hanna. It's all right." She said. I cried in her arms, like a child of three, not ten. I'm not crying from the nightmare, but mom wouldn't understand.

As I dress for another droning school day, Lacy opens my door and throws a book at me. "You left this in my room Heinie." She calls me for a nickname. I sigh, grab my books for school, and head out to wait for Valerie's ugly face. While I walk in the classroom, I notice Mrs. Walen in a worse mood than usual. I look at her face and she glares at me. I clumsily slide in my seat with the other students. "How can Hanna fit in the seat? If she gets any fatter she'll pop. "Mindy announced to the class. Mrs. Walen stifles a laugh, then turns to the blackboard. I stick my tongue out at Mindy. The wicked witch up at the front of the room is pointing her stick at the map. "Where am I pointing to, Hanna?" She asked me. She pronounces my name as if a curse. Shocked that a teacher can be so mean, I answer without looking, "Germany?" I sigh, for when I look closer, she points to the United States. Laughing directly at me, Mrs. Walen said, "No Hanna. You are wrong as usual. Why don't you go to the nurse to get a pill to make you smart?" I didn't know if she was kidding or not, so I get up and walk to the nurse.

After embarrassing myself at the nurse, I walk slowly back to the class. I see Mrs. Walen sitting by my desk with the other kids. I get butterflies in my stomach. She is the ringleader, pulling item after item out of my unorganized desk. "Do you see this? What a slob she is!" Mindy and Anne sit cross legged at my desk, and Mindy held up an old muddy hat, I had stuck in when the boy threw a rock at my head. "I can't believe she is such a pig!" Mrs. Walen said, pulling out the entire desk. I look at her with rage on my face and she has a glare on her face. "You are dismissed." She said to me with a satisfied look on her face. Where am I going to go it's in the middle of the day? I turn and run off away from the school, knowing my childhood sweetness gets lost among the roaming students. I run into the streets, and walk forever, knowing I'm getting lost as the minute's pass.