Gybe
By
Kristi M Turner
Genre:
YA Contemporary Fiction
Nicole
is an 18-year-old, juvenile delinquent who desperately wants to take
control of her life but must find a way to overcome her own
self-sabotage and a judge who will not easily let her escape her
past. She keeps food on her plate and clothes on her back by
stealing. It is far from the life she wants, but she has known little
kindness in her life and, therefore, gives little back. When Judge
Newton charges her for the first time as an adult, Nicole recognizes
a separating path. She can stay on her path to destruction or she can
accept the unexpected generosity of the Kutcher family, whose house
she is charged with burglarizing.
Child
psychologist, Cynthia Kutcher, believes she can help Nicole confront
her anger and build back the self-worth she lost when her father
abandoned her to a drunken uncle after her mother’s death.
Along
the way to building a more valuable life, Nicole meets Keagan, an
affluent young man with whom she begins an often overwhelming love
affair despite the conflicts their disparate pasts bring.
Rock-bottom. That’s all that I can think of as I’m handcuffed and
roughly shoved into the back seat of a police car; saturated with the
stench of urine and sweat. The cushioned seat is wet with God only
knows what already.
I glance out the window, and look at the family whose most
valuable possessions I was trying to take and I remember my mother
saying to me one time, “Baby girl, people have gotta hit rock bottom
before they’ll ever willingly turn their life around.” At the time she was
talking about my cracked-out father. Little did she realize her daughter
would be at the bottom of that rock several years later.
The family stands as still as the columns that hold up their two
story house while Burkley, the policeman, that I’ve come to know, fills
out the report. They weren’t supposed to be home. Why are they not at
work? It’s morning. A young boy with light brown curls poking out
from underneath his gray, flat bill cap and a girl who looks to be a
couple of years younger, with her scattering freckles and deep auburn
hair pulled back in a neat bun, stare back at me; their faces scrunched
up in disgust.
If you only knew, kids, I think to myself. I do what I have to do to
survive. Not everyone gets to live in a big fancy house with parents that
will fulfill their every want and need. I bet neither one of those two has
ever had to steal anything they needed just to survive.
The father of the family, looking a little worse for wear with his
slightly mussed comb over and wrinkled navy khakis, steps away from
his wife and Burkley. Pulling hard at the knot in his tie, he walks
toward the kids. He says something as he puts a hand on the young
man’s shoulder and points toward the house. Both kids start making
their way towards the front door, the girl, turns to look back over her
shoulder with mock curiosity. Once his kids are inside, the man walks
back over to his wife and leans down to whisper in her ear. They both
turn to look at me, pity highlighting their face.
I hold their gaze for a few seconds before narrowing my eyes in
resentment. They seem to have the disgustingly perfect little life I
crave. I know what I tried to do is wrong, but this is my way of life. I
stare down into the vomit stained floorboard; by the time I glance back
up, Burkley is ripping a sheet of paper out of his book and handing it
to the man. Burkley then gets in the car without saying a word, buckles
himself up, and puts the car in drive. When he reaches up to flip the
lights and siren on I say to him, “Are those really necessary?”
He grunts and flips the switch. “Cuts down on the time it takes to
get to the station.”
He drives like he is auditioning for the next Batman role, slamming
me hard up against the side door with every curve. I am being
bounced all around the backseat. “Hey! Watch it! You forgot to buckle
me up.”
“I didn’t forget.” He looks at me in his rearview mirror. “Why
should I waste my time buckling you up?” His eyes go back to the
road. “At the rate you’re traveling in life, if we wreck and you die, the
world is less one piece of trash burglar.”
I’m outraged. “I am not a piece of trash! I can’t help the bad hand
I was dealt in life.”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “Oh stop it! A lot of kids are dealt
bad hands. I have a nephew, poor kid, who has a druggie for a momma
and who knows for a daddy. He’s never met him. You know what he
does? He studies hard to make good grades so he’ll get a scholarship.
He stays out of trouble. That’s what he does. That boy is going places.
You, on the other hand, have quit school, and you’re constantly in
trouble. I personally have transported you to juvy two times in the past
year.” Coming to a stop, he looks both ways, before pulling out onto
the next road. “Maybe this time will change you. I doubt it, but for
your sake I hope so.”
Kristi
M. Turner grew up in a quaint little southern town in central
Alabama. After high school, she went on to further her education at
The University of Alabama at Birmingham and graduated with her
Bachelor’s Degree in Accounting. She never dreamed that one day she
would become an author, however, sometimes, life throws you curve
balls. After her precious daughter was born, she suffered from
post-partum and all the self-help books tell you to write your
feelings down. For her, that didn’t work. Instead, she wrote Gybe.
Kristi M. Turner currently lives in Curry, Alabama with her husband
and daughter, along with their Shih-tzu, Bingo. She enjoys reading,
writing, Hulu, Netflix, music of all kinds, the beach, and bantering
with her husband on a fall Saturday over football. For their house is
divided. Her husband is a hard-core Bama fan, while she roots for the
Auburn tigers.
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