I've tried to forget my father, but he hasn't left my head since. The tubes that helped him live, they were connected everywhere. High pitched beeps sounded that he was alive, for now. Doctors have been rumoring around the hospital about my father, about how injured he is, and how he's not gonna live past 3 weeks.
I snap back into reality. Vic is flailing his arms, getting my attention.
"Yes" I say, uninterested
"What's wrong?" He sits down beside me on the bed.
"I'm just thinking about my father's arrangements," I let my fingers dance along my black bed spread.
" he's not gonna die, darling. He's strong," he reassures me.
"Yeah, strong enough to hurt me," sad anger rises through my lungs. I stand up, walking to Mike's room.
"Hey what's up?" He sits up on his bed, smiling.
"Take me home," no emotion has shown through my thin skin.
"He's dying, he wouldn't be home," he stands up, sighing.
"Okay, let's go"
•^•^•^•^•^•
*at le home*
•^•^•^•^•^•
Walking around, I brush the tips of my fingers against the wall, feeling it's erosion from many washings. I used to draw on the walls. The kitchen was a light blue, like my fathers eyes.
"Stop!" I scream, giggling at the flour being thrown at me.
"Not until you give me my watch back!" He threw me on the ground. He beat me until the flour around me was tinted red with anger.
He ripped his watch out of my weakening grip, and strided out of the house, to the bar...
My throat closes up and the memories fly through my head like knats swarming a dead carcass.
"Let's go get your clothes Nicole." Mike shows me the way to my room, like its my first time here. The wooden floors creak with every motion. The door was stained with blood from when he pushed me.
I open my door, for the first time in forever. My fairy lights flicker with such anticipation and hope. The covers on my mattress were black, wrinkly and warm. Books were left untouched, gathering dust like playing cards.
My laptop had been broken.
My guitar's strings were tangled up in a heap of music.
"Anything you need?" Mike's eyes dart around in alert.
"Does Vic have any guitar stings?" Stupid question...
"Duh" Mike snorts and looks through my movies.
"Harrayyyyy potttterrrrrr" Mike shouts into the empty house. He looks through more.
"Ew why the fuck do you have this?!" He mocks, hurtful u holding up a Star Wars series.
"Tony, duh" I mimick him, placing the movies in my guitar case, along with my guitar.
"Don't you have clothes?" Mike looks around for a dresser.
"Yeah," I point to the small pile of shriveled up clothes. I grab a small back pack, next to the clothes and stuff them in.
The tv in the main room started playing.
"You thought I was dead, bitch?"
YOU ARE READING
Only Baby Scars
أدب الهواةNicole child, you're okay.. "I'm sorry if I mean anything to you, but I've made up my mind" she screamed in his face as she ran into the streets. All he heard was a car screech to a stop. But it stopped after a thud was sounded. "She can't be dead...
