The tears that pooled at the memory

The tears that pooled at the memory didn’t spill over. I wouldn’t allow it. This twisted house wasn’t mine anymore, and I didn’t have to stay once I got my journals. I would forget the slaps. I would forget the harsh words. I would forget the doctor’s visits.
I wouldn’t spend another day giving any of it more attention than I already had done.
I rang the doorbell.
Moments later, a light came on inside and then the front porch light. I shifted, immediately wondering how I looked, but then I stilled again. I was still dressed in my pajama shorts and Jax’s T-shirt, looking completely out of sorts, and it didn’t fucking matter.
My mother opened the door slowly, eyes narrowed as she took us in. “K.C.?” She looked between me and Shane and Fallon. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I need my journals.”
Her confused and annoyed expression turned to a scowl. “You will most certainly not get your journals right now. How dare—”
I pushed past her, barging through the front door, and spun around.
“Fallon? Shane?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “My journals are tucked in a secret compartment at the bottom of my hope chest. Would you mind?” I asked, and then looked to my mother. “My mother has things to say to me in private.”
I knew the word “private” would buy me some time. My mother’s back straightened, and her gaze barely flickered to them as they darted past her and up the stairs.
My mother closed the door and walked toward me. “How dare you? It is the middle of the night, and I told you you could have your journals when you came home.”
“I’m not coming home.” I hoped I sounded defiant.
“K.C.—”
“My name is Juliet.”
And I sucked in air as she grabbed my upper arm. “You will do as you’re told,” she growled, jerking me closer.
My skin burned where she buried her nails, and I clamped my mouth shut and held her eyes. I wouldn’t let her see me falter.
I got in her face. “No,” I countered.
Her eyes flickered upstairs, and I knew she was gauging whether or not to hit me.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”
Her mouth twisted up, and she went for it. She dropped the hand from my arm and whipped it across my face, sending me stumbling back into the wall.
But I shot back up. “Again,” I demanded, holding out my arms, inviting her.
Her eyebrows dug deep, and she looked at me, searching my eyes for what—I don’t know.
Her hand came down again, this time her fingernails catching my lip, and I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing.
My breath poured out of me shakily, but I pulled myself up straight. “Come on. You can do better,” I challenged, my eyes pooling with tears, but I wasn’t sad or angry or even hurt. The more she hit me, the more powerful I felt. This was all she had.
“Juliet, what—” I heard Shane at the top of the stairs, and I darted out my hand, signaling her to stop.
I sucked in breath after breath, shaking my head at my mother as I cried. “You can’t hurt me.”
The hardness in her face was like steel, but her voice shook. “I’m calling the police,” she warned, and turned to walk to the living room.
“And tell them what?” I taunted.
I cocked my head and continued. “Sandra Carter. Vice president of the Rotary Club, president of the Shelburne Falls Garden Association, and School Board chairperson?” I listed the many forums on which she could potentially be embarrassed. “What will you tell them that I can’t?”
And she stopped. I knew I had her.
The woman didn’t like unsavory attention, and even though I would never talk about her, my sister, or my father, she thought that I might. And that was enough.
She kept her back to me. “Get out.”
“So you can be alone?” I asked quietly.
She didn’t turn around.
She didn’t look at me.
She just stood there, waiting for me to disappear, so she could sink back into her delusions as if none of this ever happened.
I looked to Fallon and Shane, their arms loaded down with my black-and-white composition books, staring at me wide-eyed.
“Let’s go,” I urged.
As we left the house and walked to the car, Shane sped up next to me. “Are you okay?”
"No." But I smiled. "Not in the least.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Air mata yang menggenang di memori tidak tumpah. Aku tidak akan membiarkannya. Rumah ini memutar tidak milikku lagi, dan aku tidak harus tinggal begitu aku jurnal saya. Aku akan melupakan menampar. Aku akan melupakan kata-kata kasar. Aku akan melupakan kunjungan dokter.Saya tidak akan menghabiskan satu hari lagi memberi perhatian lebih daripada aku sudah melakukan semua itu.Saya membunyikan bel pintu.Beberapa saat kemudian, cahaya yang datang di dalam dan kemudian cahaya serambi depan. Saya bergeser, segera bertanya-tanya bagaimana aku melihat, tetapi kemudian saya batu lagi. Aku masih mengenakan celana pendek piyama saya dan Jax's T-shirt, mencari benar-benar seperti, dan itu tidak fucking masalah.Ibu saya membuka pintu perlahan-lahan, mata mempersempit karena ia membawa kami masuk "K.C.?" Dia tampak antara saya dan Shane dan Fallon. "Apakah artinya ini?""Saya perlu jurnal saya."Dia bingung dan jengkel ekspresi berubah untuk cemberut. "Anda akan paling pasti tidak mendapatkan jurnal Anda sekarang. Bagaimana berani — "Aku mendorong melewati nya, pengangkutan melalui pintu depan, dan berputar-putar."Fallon? Shane?" Aku menyeberang lengan saya pada dada saya. "Jurnal saya terselip di dalam compartment rahasia di bawah dadaku harapan. Apakah Anda keberatan?" Aku bertanya, dan kemudian melihat kepada ibuku. "Ibuku memiliki hal-hal untuk mengatakan kepada saya secara pribadi."Aku tahu kata "swasta" akan membeli saya beberapa waktu. Menegakkan punggung ibuku, dan pandangan matanya nyaris tidak berkedip-kedip kepada mereka seperti mereka kecilpun melewati dia dan menaiki tangga.Ibu saya menutup pintu dan berjalan ke arahku. "Beraninya kamu? Itu adalah tengah malam, dan saya mengatakan Anda Anda bisa memiliki jurnal Anda ketika Anda kembali rumah. ""Saya tidak datang rumah." Saya berharap saya terdengar menantang."K.C.—""Nama saya adalah Juliet."Dan aku mengisap di udara seperti Dia menyambar lengan atas saya. "Anda akan melakukan seperti Anda mengatakan," dia ketus, menyentak saya lebih dekat.Kulitku terbakar mana dia dikuburkan kuku, dan aku menutup tutup mulut dan diadakan matanya. Aku tidak akan membiarkan dia melihat saya goyah.Aku di wajahnya. "Tidak," saya balas.Matanya berkedip-kedip di lantai atas, dan aku tahu dia adalah mengukur apakah atau tidak untuk memukul saya.Aku menjatuhkan suara saya untuk bisikan. "Anda tidak dapat menyakitiku lagi."Berputar mulutnya, dan ia pergi untuk itu. Dia turun tangan dari lenganku dan kocok di wajah saya, mengirim saya tersandung kembali ke dinding.Tapi aku menembak kembali. "Lagi," saya menuntut, memegang lengan saya, mengundang dirinya.Alis menggali dalam-dalam, dan ia menatapku, mencari mata saya apa-aku tidak tahu.Tangannya turun lagi, kali ini kuku penangkapan bibir saya, dan saya diperas mataku tertutup, sambil mengernyit.Napas menuangkan saya shakily, tetapi saya berhenti sendiri lurus. "Ayo. Anda dapat melakukannya lebih baik,"Aku menantang, mataku penyatuan dengan air mata, tapi aku tidak sedih atau marah, atau bahkan terluka. Semakin dia memukul saya, saya merasa semakin kuat. Ini adalah semua yang dia miliki."Juliet, apa —" Aku mendengar Shane di atas tangga, dan aku kecilpun tanganku, signaling untuk berhenti.I sucked in breath after breath, shaking my head at my mother as I cried. “You can’t hurt me.”The hardness in her face was like steel, but her voice shook. “I’m calling the police,” she warned, and turned to walk to the living room.“And tell them what?” I taunted.I cocked my head and continued. “Sandra Carter. Vice president of the Rotary Club, president of the Shelburne Falls Garden Association, and School Board chairperson?” I listed the many forums on which she could potentially be embarrassed. “What will you tell them that I can’t?”And she stopped. I knew I had her.The woman didn’t like unsavory attention, and even though I would never talk about her, my sister, or my father, she thought that I might. And that was enough.She kept her back to me. “Get out.”“So you can be alone?” I asked quietly.She didn’t turn around.She didn’t look at me.She just stood there, waiting for me to disappear, so she could sink back into her delusions as if none of this ever happened.I looked to Fallon and Shane, their arms loaded down with my black-and-white composition books, staring at me wide-eyed.“Let’s go,” I urged.As we left the house and walked to the car, Shane sped up next to me. “Are you okay?”"No." But I smiled. "Not in the least.