I wanted a real family. My mom had never been in the picture, and my father refused to talk about her. The one time I tried to ask, I paid the price. My hand twitched, and the long scar on my left palm ached from the memory. At the age of six, they were the very first stitches I’d ever had. It wouldn’t be the last. Now, it would only get worse, since the one person who ever dared to stand up to my father was six feet under the ground.
My breath heaved as I stopped a sob from breaking through. I couldn’t make a sound, not daring to wake him.
I wanted so badly to end it all, but I didn’t have the strength, nor the will, to do so. Suicide was the weak way out. But how much longer could I continue?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the pain to stop, for my heart to give up and no longer beat in my chest.
I was jerked awake by a loud bang. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I heard my father in the bathroom, once again puking his guts up from a night of drinking. I groaned, not looking forward to cleaning the bathroom. I swear, he did this crap on purpose.
Hearing him flush the toilet, I stood up and made my bed, a simple twin with three blankets, one of them a sheet. I folded the thin blanket perfectly and laid it at the foot. None of the blankets held any sentimental value to me; they were well used and falling apart. The dark blue and green fabric was faded from so many washes, and they were more scratchy than soft.
There were fewer than three months before I could officially leave this place, and I had no plans to ever return. That was the only silver lining, even if it seemed like it was years away.
I no longer held much hope that I would actually make it to my eighteenth birthday.
“Breakfast better be on the table,” Dad yelled from the bathroom before slamming the door shut again and starting the shower. So many words wanted to escape my mouth at his demands but, instead, I did what was expected. I went downstairs and cook him breakfast, making sure it was to his perfect standards and on the table right as he walked into the room. Scrambled eggs and toast. Enough for one person only.
He took a seat, his weight causing the chair to groan. I could picture that chair breaking underneath him, maybe even one of the legs hitting him back enough to kill him. Then, his blood would seep all over the floor and I wouldn’t even have to clean it up.
Instead, he glared at me as he shoveled mouthful after mouthful. I could already hear the gears ticking in his mind…how repulsive I was to him, yet how much he desired my body in any way he could.
Oh yes, he’d have my body. He already had my mind. My heart and soul, on the other hand, were mine. They just so happened to be buried deep in the ground in a place called Hell.
My father’s black hair was shaved short, and you could see the skin of his head. The scar from his brain surgery before I was born was still as clear as ever.
“Get ready for school,” he huffed with a mouthful of food. His words brought me out of the past.
“Yes, sir,” I said, ducking my head and walking briskly past him. I didn’t make it far; his foot shot out, causing me to trip.
My hands stung as they landed with a loud smack against the tile, my face barely saved from another bruise. His laugh was deep, thrilled, as I picked myself up to get ready for the day.
I didn’t let my tears fall. I’d accepted my fate a long time ago, and a little scene like that was nothing compared to what else my father was capable of. I quickly brushed out my hair, letting it fall to my waist in a soft wave. I tossed on some simple clothes that hid the array of bruises and scars on my body. With my feet in my old tennis shoes and my school bag in hand, I descended the stairs.
“Be home right after school,” he said, looking me up and down. It made my skin crawl.
“Yes, sir,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes. I knew, without a doubt, that if I looked into them, I’d see all the hatred he held for me. I’d see his thoughts and how much pain he’d want to put me through. Sometimes, I wondered why he hadn’t already killed me.
Grabbing my chin in his strong, callused hand, he forced me to meet his eyes. His thumb and forefinger pressed into my soft skin.
“No games. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I muttered. Not that I’d dare try, anyway.
“Worthless kid.” With one last tight squeeze, he roughly let me go and marched past me, up the stairs. “Can’t even try to keep up your grades.”
I let out a sigh of relief and made my way out of the house to have a few hours away from the man I loathed more than the devil himself.
High school was like any other day. I stayed in the shadows, invisible to the students and teachers. I could always count on them never noticing the bags under my eyes. Sometimes, I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs about how my entire life was a lie.
Here, at school, I blended in. No one probably even knew my name, and my teachers didn’t care as long as I turned in my schoolwork on time.
Being here at school among simple-minded teenagers who thought the end of the world was coming because some boy didn’t notice their new cut was my heaven. It was the only place I was able to be me.
I didn’t have to pretend. I didn’t have to show up for class. I didn’t have to do what my teachers wanted. I could come here and hide away in plain sight. I needed this. I needed to be alone, and what better place than school, where no one would dare talk to me. No one would see my hidden tears or trembling hands when a boy shoved past me too roughly. No one would demand me to give up something that wasn’t theirs to take.
So, at lunchtime when the sun was up high in the sky and the birds chatted together in the treetops, I made my way off of the school property. I walked, letting my legs take me to the lake that wasn’t all that far away. It was my secret place, and yes, I did skip school at least once a week to go there, no matter how cold it was.
Today was no different. The weather was warm enough to shed my light jacket, leaving my arms covered in a navy-blue long-sleeved shirt. I sat my stuff on the bench beside me before leaning my forearms on the banister. Looking out over the crystal blue lake, I let my mind wander.
