52-Week Writing Challenge: Week 48
NaNoWriMo is over, but the writing continues. This is another excerpt of my WIP, Sacrificial Daughter, currently at 62K. This is part of a memory Ana has which led to major changes in her life and changed its direction.
Analeigh exited Dot’s Five & Dime clutching the bag which held her new spiral notebooks and pencils. She headed for home, eager to get to the solitude of her bedroom and add to her story Sadia, the Beloved African Princess.
Excited, Ana planned the wedding scene between Sadia and mighty warrior, Manu Owon, in her mind. She didn’t hear the group of girls approaching her from behind until they surrounded her.
Macy Burford and Judy Lake each gripped one of Ana’s elbows, pulling her along at a brisk pace.
“What are you doing? Let go of me!” Ana pulled and tugged to break free, but stopped when she felt Macy’s nails dig into her skin through the thin jacket she wore.
“Aww, calm down, Analeigh. We only want to hang out with you,” Judy cooed.
“No, you don’t. We’re not friends. Let go!” Ana stopped, trying to wrench herself free, but a sharp jab to her left shoulder caught her off guard. She turned her head to find Angela Feltner glaring at her. Next to Angela stood Corinne Beeman, her eyes filled with sympathy and fear.
Macy jerked Ana forward. “C’mon. We don’t have much time.
“Where are we going? Macy, what do you want from me? Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”
The taller girl scoffed and responded through gritted teeth.
“I don’t give a damn who you tell. No one will believe the town whore’s bastard daughter.”
Ana accepted what her mother was long ago. She could do nothing to change it. But being reminded of her anonymous father stung.
“Macy, just let me go. Judy, please. I have to get home before dark.”
Angela giggled. “Why is that, Analeigh? Do you have to help your mama service her men? Is that it, Analeigh? You raising your dress and spreading your legs for a long line of men every night?”
Angela clipped Ana’s shoulder with a balled fist.
“Don’t call me disgusting… that’s your mama, not mine-”
“And what she does has nothing to do with me.”
Despite the late afternoon’s cool breeze, perspiration trickled the length of Ana’s back, fueled not by fear but anger.
Where were they taking her? What did they want? What gave them the right to control her?
The group reached the corner and turned right on Mt. Pleasant Boulevard.
“Shut your mouth and keep moving.”
Jaywalking, they crossed the desolate side street.
Ana realized they were heading straight for the back entrance of Symphony Park.
“Why are we going to the park? C’mon, you guys, let me go. Please?”
“We want to spend time with our friend, pretty Analeigh Sellers. We want to know how you always have the answers and get all those A’s. You doing special favors for teachers after school, Analeigh?” Macy smirked, marring her plain features even more.
Once the group was through the gate, Macy shoved Ana to the ground.
Ana threw her hands out and caught herself, her mouth mere inches away from the dirty, cracked cement. Pain shot through her wrist and heightened her anger.
“What the hell do you want?”
Macy leaned toward her. “If I had my way, you’d die, Analeigh. You and your slut of a mother make me sick.”
The crazed look in Macy’s eyes confused Ana, but anger won out. She kicked her leg out, catching Macy in the shin. Ana rolled to the right, missing the hard stomp of Angela’s booted foot.
Ana jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain of her injured wrist.
“Why do you hate me? What did I do to you? None of you even know me.”
“Pretty Analeigh. Smart Analeigh,” Angela mimicked. “You’re a whore’s daughter, which makes you a whore. But the boys and teachers think you’re so wonderful.”
Ana shook her head, her eyes full of sadness.
“You’re wrong. No one thinks I’m wonderful.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Macy bellowed. “None of it matters.”
All eyes were on Macy as she pulled a large pair of silver-plated scissors from her bag.
“You need a haircut, Analeigh.”