My brother yells, my heart pounds harder.
My father yells after my mother, my heartstops.
Both of my parents are here, which is never a good thing. I can’t imagine why they’re so upset with me, or why they’re storming their way through Chris’s house, but I have a feeling I’m about to find out.
“Claire?” I hear my mother say softly, walking into my room.
Tears sit in her eyes as she stares at me, watching me, waiting for me to say something to her.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, choking back the fear that has me wrapped tightly in its grasp.
She storms towards me —causing me to flinch— before throwing her arms around me the moment I’m within reach. This is the first time she’s hugged me in a very long time, and for just a moment, I feel myself recoil at her touch before giving in and letting myself feel the love I haven’t felt since I was a kid. I should be pushing her away right now, screaming at her to let go of me, but I can’t bring myself to do it. So much has happened these last days, I just want my mom right now. I need her to be here for me and tell me that everything is going to be alright, just for these next few seconds.
“Olivia let go of that girl right now” my father orders from the hallway.
She pushes me back but doesn’t leave my side, she refuses to look at my father and instead stares into my eyes. I can see something, she’s trying to tell me something but I just can’t figure out what. I place my hand on the side of her face and she winces. My eyebrows knit together, feeling the greasy texture of thick makeup under my fingertips.
My mom never wears makeup, she may put on some mascara and a little eyeliner every once in a while, but she never wears foundation unless she’s going to a big event.
Or…
I snap my head towards my father, hate boiling off of me as I realize he’s not just an asshole who likes to hit his daughter… he also likes to hit his wife.
“You motherfucker” I scream, jumping from the bed. Before I know it, I’m slamming my fists against his chest, tears of anger flowing down my cheeks while I push my father closer and closer to the wall behind him. “How dare you touch her! She’s done nothing but obey you, done every little thing you ask of her, and you fucking hit her?”
His hands wrap around my throat, he turns me around and slams me against the wall, putting more and more pressure while I claw at his hands. A sick smile slides its way onto his face as he looks at my wrists, staring at the bruises that Nathan left only a week ago. “I see someone else took on my role. Good to know there are other people keeping you in check, little one.”
Darkness licks at the edges of my vision, my world slowly fading to black. He backhand slaps me across the face, his rings cutting my eyebrow. Blood drips down into my eye, clouding my vision even more than before, as my father slams me into the ground, knocking the air right out of me.
I can hear my mothers screams from far away, her voice growing farther and farther…
* * *
“Claire? You’re okay, I’m here” Chris says, helping me sit up.
Cold water drips from my forehead, confusion clouds my mind as I take in my surroundings.
My mom is next to me, holding my hand. Chris is in front of me, holding an ice pack and wiping away tears with his other hand. I’m sitting on his counter right now, in the middle of his kitchen.
Panic crashes into me when I remember what just happened, “Dad, he…”
“He’s gone Claire, I got to you in time” Chris whispers, a slight waver to his voice.
There have been very few times that I’ve seen my brother cry. The first was when my grandmother passed away, the next was when I woke up in the hospital after my attempt, andnow. I don’t really know how to comfort him, it’s usually the opposite. He’s always so strong, he’s always the one taking care ofme, I guess I never thought I would have to take care of him one day.
“I’ve never seen him like that” Chris chokes, “why would he do that?” His question isn’t directed towards me, he’s staring at my mother, but she just looks away.
“I’m okay” I promise, trying to convince both of us.
“For fucks sake, you’re bleeding.” Chris stands up and grabs a clean towel from a drawer, pressing it to the side of my face before wrapping me in a tight hug. “I just don’t know what went through his head, he’s never been like that before.”
In this moment I realize that my brother is searching for the answers I never got. He’s going through the same process I did when it first started happening, trying to find a logical reason behind my fathers actions.
I can say with full certainty that there isn’t one.
“This isn’t the first time,” my mother says. “I can’t say that I was innocent in any of it, cause I wasn’t, but I would like to tell you guys a story… if you’ll let me.”
She goes on to tell us about how her and dad met, how he swept her off her feet with fancy gifts and trips to tropical countries. He was the perfect man… until she signed the papers making their marriage official. I guess my dad started to cheat, going on last minute ‘work’ trips and spending money on things she never saw.
