Walk for Christmas

Roxy POV I was excited to see my boyfriend's car sitting in the driveway. I was not certain that he would be home, as he works shifts and can often be out when I pop over. For some reason, he has been slow at answering my text messages lately and never informs me of his shift. Maybe something has changed at work, and phone use is frowned upon. I was carrying the birthday gift I had for him. I found it online and was worried it would not arrive in time for his birthday, which would be while I was at my grandparents' place. I was excited for him to open it, so I put my heart into finding it. I go to a rodeo in our small town every year to help out and get the bulls to the rodeo. I spent about five weeks there when it was our town's turn to have the event. I compete each month; I am the barrel queen and have held the title for three years. I need to defend my title, though I do not get as much time with the horses as I would like. This time, the rodeo was being held in our town, which is a big deal for our town. I love the hype we get in our town when it is our turn to host it; it brings in a lot of money for our little town. We rely on it for the coming year, and the town loves putting on a great show. My brothers will be stuck at university as they have exams. They won't be coming this year, but that is what you get with being a university student: so many exams, and each one is crucial. I am not attending university, having finished my degree online while finishing high school. I am a web designer, computer hacker, coder, you name it. If it has to do with computers, I can do it. I even wrote a game, but it will most likely never be sold; it was just part of my assignment to show my understanding of graphics and interchange. While parking behind my boyfriend's car, I noticed my best friend's car across the street. I wonder who she is visiting. Is she dating Craig, the guy who lives across the street? I thought they would make a cute couple. I grabbed my bag, raced to the back door, and entered. The house was full of loud, heavy rock music. It sounded like he was having fun, most likely cleaning. I like listening to music while I clean. I hummed to the song playing as I went hunting for my man, moving from room to room until I came to a sudden halt in the open doorway of his bedroom. I had found him, but he was not cleaning his room like I had expected him to be doing; no, he was much busier than cleaning. There was my man and my so-called best friend, both naked and glistening with sweat as he thrusts into her, her fingernails digging deep into the meaty flesh of his hips. Groans of pleasure come from both of them. I stared, shocked at first, not believing what I was seeing. Why would they do this to me? Why? 'Harder.' She groaned and seemed to lift his hips higher and thrust harder into her, Her hips lifting to meet his, the bed bouncing and creaking under the pressure of the thrusts. It was my worst nightmare coming true before my eyes. 'Yes.' She said huskily, and my boyfriend groaned in pleasure as she ran her shiny pink nails over his back, leaving behind a red trail where her nails ran across his skin. My throat contracted as I tried to stop myself from making a sound. I shook my head to clear my head, tears rolling down my cheeks as I wondered how long they had been going behind my back like that. I could not watch; seeing the double betrayal of the two people I trusted the most was too hard. Turning, I leave the house, the song. 'Will I ever see your face again?' by the Angels echoing through the speakers as I step out the way I came in, but not the same in my heart, which is now shattered and broken. He did not want to sleep with me, saying he wanted the moment he took my innocence to be unique and special, and it was never the right time; now I know why it was never the right time. He was getting what he needed already. I raced home, tears still falling down my cheeks, and ran upstairs to my room. I cried into my pillow for a little while, feeling sorry for myself, for what I had lost, and for the betrayal, and then the anger came, and the tears dried up. I would not let them make it feel like it was all my fault. This had nothing to do with me, and it was all about trusting someone who betrayed me; it was their loss, not mine; they could have each other. They are no longer my friends; I will never trust them again. I pushed myself to have a shower and wash away the tears; my chest ached, and my stomach was like lead. But I will put this behind me and maybe go live with Grandma and Grandpa for a while as I get over this. Instead of staying a month, I will ask if I can stay longer. I can do my job anywhere; working on the web is beautiful and easy to reach worldwide. ‘Honey! It is time to go,' my mum called out just as I started to formulate a plan that would, I hope, help me get stronger. Heading to the bathroom, I emptied my bladder, rechecked my face, and saw the blotchy red face staring back at me; I could not get rid of the red eyes. Mum and Dad would know that I had been crying if they even looked at my face and would not understand why. They would think it was because I did not want to go to grandma’s place and would not speak of it. I am usually invisible to them, so most likely, they will not notice. I never miss the town rodeo and will not let the betrayal stop me now. If anything, I am more determined to leave and get away from here. It was raining hard outside the car, matching how I felt. It was as if the sky was crying for me. The more the thunder cracked overhead, the more my heart broke with it. Inside the car, I was in tune with the storm raging in the sky. Dad's windscreen wipers were squishing back and forth as fast as they could go, hardly making any difference to the water pounding the windscreen. I could not see outside the windshield, and I had no idea how Dad could even see where to get us going. We should have waited another day, but then I would not have caught those cheering A-holes. All the while, Mum and Dad were arguing about my two brothers, as he often does when he is not getting anything to go the way he wants. 'Lincoln needs to do the business course, not accounting. I need him to run our business, and Kennedy needs to complete marketing. Together, they can take over.' He growled at my mother. I am sure he keeps forgetting it is raining hard, as he is going faster than is safe in this weather. He is more intent on getting his own way than worrying about the road conditions. 'But Lincoln wants to do sports physiotherapy. You should let the boys do what they want to do, not what you want them to do. You are pushing the business onto them as your Dad did to you. Give them a break. We can sell the business and let them have the life they want.' Mum's voice rose to match Dad's, the argument escalating with each word. This was not a new argument, but Dad has constantly tried to push what he wants; I think they are doing dual majors, one for themselves and one for Dad. I do not know how they managed to do it; they are smart and jumped a few grades as we all did, but that does not make it any less hard work. This is an ongoing issue. They have never once asked what I wanted to do and most likely have no clue; it was always about the boys. I did what I wanted to do, more or less invisible to Dad. Mum tried to include me with her ladies, but I am not a frilly lace-type girl. I like jeans and joggers, so Mum gave up on making me into a lady and left me to do what I wanted. I loved the outdoors but did not get out there as often as I liked. I was into lots of sports at school. That was part of our argument with my mum; she preferred me to be a cheerleader, whereas I preferred to participate in the sport. I felt like a shadow in my own family; my desires and interests were often overlooked and misunderstood. 'Sweetheart, they need to be groomed to take over when you and I want to retire and go traveling. You keep saying you want to visit different places. If we get the children into business, we can do that sooner.' Their voices started to get louder as they tried to talk in the rain, but it got more challenging as the wind buffeted the car. Then, out of the blue, a truck drove through a stop sign and straight into us. I watched in slow motion as it caved in the side of our car, with sounds of screeching tires and squeals of twisting metal, the scream of Mum in pain and Dad as he yelled to hold on, before he too went silent, as he fought to keep control of the car, which of course he had too much going against him, a huge truck, wet roads, no Dad had no chance, we were all passengers in this chaos. Mum's head hit the window, and blood exploded on the window just as it smashed; at the same time, an airbag exploded in her face, the side of the car broke open, and the front of the truck hit Mother. At the same time, my head hit the window, and intense pain took over my body. The truck's front was now part of our car, and it trapped my legs and body in some twisted metal that was the humongous bumper bar of the truck. Our car was moving sideways as the truck pushed us across the road and to who knows where. Dad was shouting something, but I could not cope with the pain, and I passed out.