Who Owns Kelly Paddik Read Online Free PDF Page A

why?”
    Inside, my dad had shrunk down very small, so small that I couldn’t feel him. But I knew he was there. He was always there.
    â€œNo.” I shook my head and stared at the wall. “Never. I can handle it. I’ll take care of everything myself.”

Chapter Five
    For the next few days, all I saw were doors and windows. It didn’t take long to figure out that the wired-over windows were no way out. But I noticed that most of the doors were opened with the same key. Every teacher, social worker, nun and staff seemed to have one of those keys. That meant there were lots of them around, and all I needed was one.
    The stitches in my left arm were no longer a secret. The nurse had wrapped my forearm ina white bandage. Twice a day, one of the staff would unwrap the bandage and clean the stitches. Every time I looked up, a girl seemed to be staring at my arm. Most of them had a scared look on their faces, but Pit Bull’s friends laughed. When they did, I fixed my eyes on the nearest door and thought of taking off through it. Doors were pretty much taking over my mind — who opened and closed them, which key went where. Let those girls laugh. When I got out of this place, I wouldn’t be taking any of them with me.
    One day after school, Jim came and stood in my doorway. I’d been lying on my bed, watching the last of the yellow leaves blow past my window. If it had been Fran, I would have kept lying there. But Jim made me think of my dad, coming through my bedroom door when I was small. My heart started beating so hard that it hurt. Clenching my fists, I sat up.
    â€œHow are you doing these days, Kelly?” Jim asked.
    â€œI don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, watching his feet. If you want to know which way a person is going to move, you always watch his feet.
    There was a long pause, but Jim just keptstanding there. Finally I glanced at his face and said, “Don’t you get the message? I’m telling you to get lost.”
    His heavy eyebrows went up a bit. “I hear you like writing stories,” he said. “I’d like to read one, if you’d let me. I brought you some paper to write on.” He placed a pile of lined paper on my desk.
    What was it with these people? Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? “Get out!” I yelled and threw my pillow at him. He caught it and placed it on my desk, then left. I heard him stop outside my door and wait, making sure I didn’t freak out again.
    Just before supper, one of the staff took some of the girls down to the smoking room. Even though I didn’t have any smokes, I went with them — second-hand smoke is better than none. When we got to the smoking room I stood around, not knowing who to talk to. Chris had stayed in the unit to finish some homework.
    â€œHey, Kelly.” It was Pit Bull, sitting with another girl, playing cards. “Come over here,” she said.
    I looked at her for a moment, thinking about it. This was the first time she’d spoken tome since she’d apologized to the office wall. Why the sudden interest?
    â€œC’mon, Kelly.” Pit Bull sounded friendly enough. She could fake a believable smile when she wanted to. And who cared if her smile was real or not? Nothing about Pit Bull was real; everyone knew that. If she decided to make me one of her fake friends, I’d have it made. No one would laugh at me. When I was out of smokes, someone would give me one. No one said no to Pit Bull and her friends.
    I went over and sat down.
Careful
, I thought.
    â€œWant a smoke?” Pit Bull asked, her smile as careful as mine.
    â€œSure,” I said. She handed me one, then held her lighter for me. I took a long deep drag. “Wish I could quit,” I said.
    â€œDon’t we all. Waste of money,” Pit Bull agreed. We played a hand of gin rummy while I wondered what this was about. Then Pit Bull glanced around, looking for