Who Owns Kelly Paddik Read Online Free PDF Page B

she’d look at it when we got upstairs to the unit. But that wouldn’t help Pit Bull, so I took the story back and started reading it out loud. I guess it got her attention because she walked back with me, listening the whole way. When we got up to the unit, I couldn’t see Pit Bull anywhere. Still, she might need more time, so I kept talking to Fran while the other girls sat down for a snack. We went into the office.
    â€œYou’re a good storyteller,” Fran said. “Do you ever write about yourself?”
    â€œYeah, I’ve written lots of stories. They’re in my room.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, and I bit my lip. I had to be more careful — I didn’t want the staff to know about that stuff.
    â€œWhat are they about?” asked Fran.
    â€œOh, stuff,” I said, shrugging. “My life, I guess.” While I was talking, I kept checking for Pit Bull. I didn’t see her anywhere.
    â€œThat’s a good idea,” said Fran.
    â€œYeah, I guess,” I muttered. “I don’t have that much to say.”
    Fran was being nice, and I was getting nervous. I had to keep her attention until I was sure that Pit Bull was gone. But you have to watch it when people are nice. They make you relax. Then you let your guard down, and they get stuff out of you.
    â€œIt doesn’t have a title yet,” I said, trying to change the subject. “First thing you do if you’re going to write a book is give it a title — if you want to finish the book, I mean. If you’re really serious, it’s got a title. That way, it’s for real. That way, you have to finish.”
    Fran was looking at me closely. “Finish what, Kelly — your book or your life?”
    I stared at her. How had we started talking about this? I didn’t want to talk about this sort of stuff. In my head I could see Pit Bull running down the street, getting away. My legs got all tight, I wanted to run so much.
    â€œYou’re not happy here, are you?” Fran asked.
    â€œIs anybody?” I said.
    â€œWhere would you like to be?” she asked.
    â€œIn some wide open place.” I could see a huge field in the country, with no fences.
    â€œWhat would you do there?” Fran asked.
    â€œI’d run,” I said right away. “I’d run and run. I used to be on the track-and-field team at my old school.”
    â€œWhat would you do when you got tired?” she asked.
    â€œI’d never get tired,” I said.
    â€œEverybody gets tired sometime,” she said.
    â€œI never get tired of wanting to run,” I said.
    â€œYeah, but as long as you’re running, whatever you’re running from is right behind you,” Fran said.
    I could feel my dad swell up inside of me.
    My hands went to fists and I closed my eyes.
    â€œWhat are you running from, Kelly?” Fran asked softly.
    The answer was out of me before I knew it. “Me,” I said. “I’m running from me. I hate myself. I hate my life. I just want to get away from myself.”
    â€œBut you can’t,” Fran said.
    Her answer came at me so hard, I felt as if I’d been hit. I opened my eyes and stared at her. This conversation had been going along so nice and easy. Why had she suddenly turned mean on me?
    Fran just sat there, looking me in the eye. “That’s the only thing you can’t run from, Kelly. You can never run from yourself.”
    â€œSure I can,” I said, pulling up my sleeve and pointing at the bandage.
    â€œSuicide isn’t the answer, Kelly,” Fran said, leaning towards me. “Suicide means the person who hurt you won. Even though that person isn’t around you right now, he’s still running your life. In fact, you’re doing his job for him by hurting yourself.” She looked at me for a moment. Then she said, “Who owns your life, Kelly? Who owns Kelly