Mom laughs loud, as if it’s normal. Like the wall between us has finally broken down—it has.
I find it strange how I never knew what her laugh sounded like or how she looked when she smiled. I didn’t know Dad could look human and not a stone face. He had the ability to smoothen his facial muscles and not appear robotic. Fuck, I can’t believe he can say sexual innuendos.
I’m learning stuff about my parents. Getting to know them in a way I’ve never before. They have stayed over previously, but we didn’t talk like this. We didn’t talk, smile, laugh or hung out. We didn’t do anything that would bridge the gap between us.
The wall is down.
But we still have a thousand miles between us to get to each other.
Strangely, the distance doesn’t bother me.
20
HOPE
It’slate in the evening when I come home. Marie and I studied at the library, where I helped her with the upcoming quizzes, specifically the chemistry one. We started off after school ended and the next time we lifted our heads, the sky was dark and I knew I had to be home. Or it wouldn’t end well for me.
For nearly a week, things had been too quiet at home.
Dad and I hadn’t crossed path. Mom seemed to handle him. She said she’d talked to him and what happened before won’t happen again.
Of course, I didn’t believe her.
I’d be a fool to believe her.
He had crossed a line and there was no going back now. He wasn’t going to stop hurting me, no matter now. The switch had flipped and now I was his target.
Why me?
I keep asking myself this question, but the answer is nowhere to be found.
We were never close, and I didn’t love him, but at least he never raised his hand on me. He let me go. I was spared. Every single time.
Until now.
Ever since he’d come back, for some strange reason, I was on his radar.
A week had gone by and things had been going smoothly. Fear was lingering like a quiet rattle snake waiting to attack me. The anticipation made it worse, because I knew he’d hurt me. All I could do was wait.
Marie wanted to spend more time together but I told her that I had to be home because of the curfew. She didn’t say much, just stared at me with helpless, sad eyes that saidI don’t want you to go home.I didn’t want to go home either.
But it didn’t matter whatIwanted.
I’d always come home.
I had nowhere else to go.
Marie drives me home despite my reluctance for her to go anywhere near my father. She insists that she can’t have me walking streets at night.
Waving her goodbye, I wait for her to drive away before I step inside.
The second I close the door, tingles race down my spine as I take in the eerie silence and the lurking shadows. Except for the light in the kitchen, that falls like a dim beam into the hallway, it’s pitch dark everywhere and too quiet. The complete opposite of what my home is most of the times.
I hate the quiet more than the commotion. At least when the TV is playing I know he is home, or if the noises are coming from the kitchen I can let myself sneak upstairs without getting noticed.
But this is bad, because I don’t know what to expect.
Going from room to room I look for Dad but he’s nowhere to be found—which is a good thing. It means I don’t have to deal with him.
