The Summer Warmth

Ten~

The Blue More Than Skin.

Chapter 10

Two days after the party.

The next morning, I wake up with a nauseous feeling. It is less than yesterday though but I still couldn't get past the movements. My head is throbbing, my back is aching and most of all, my stomach is gnawing badly as if someone was stabbing me again and again on each part and inch. Moments of the night keep replying in my mind while I am lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling intensely.

The night of the party.

I could see my dad making his way towards me at full speed. I was going to make a run for it but seeing the golf stick in his hands, gripped tightly I couldn't move an inch. Collective memories of the past came jolted towards me in a snap when I felt the stick coming in contact with my stomach. I jerked back with force and tripped down on the grass of the backyard. He kept beating me with the stick in full intensity and I couldn't do anything but keep my hands on each side of my body as an act of self-defense.

This wasn't the first time and neither did it hurt like the first time. I didn't open my mouth even for a second, not even a whimper came out of my mouth let alone words to make him stop. I have prepared myself for years to face this drill and be ready for the impact in reality. I build up my body and became a little muscular in the past years not so I could stop him from beating me but bear his beatings each time he behaved this way. It wasn't in me to stop him when he was angry, he was a beast and no one could stop him, not even mom in the past times. Though I never received this type of treatment while she was alive, he was just a father with little or no emotions towards me but he never raised his hand on me when she was alive. I would have believed it sooner that he isn't a man being capable of love but much to everyone's surprise he was. His love for my mother was something a child would want to listen to every night in hopeful dreams to be capable of believing it to have it in one lifetime. His eyes told all the beautiful things he felt for my mother, something my mother was very proud of but never blinded by it to ignore his faults like some couple who mistook all acts as out of love.

I get out when I feel the hits stop for a time being now and me just lying there on the grass, repetitively changing sides and waiting for all this to get over. Everything that the future holds.

He starts again after noticing my consciousness to come back and after around 15 minutes he finally came to stop, a shocked expression blinding his face as to how was I am not dead yet. He threw the stick on the ground, spit on the grass, and made his way back to his room. I on the other hand moved from my side position to lie flat on the ground on my back with my hands on each side of the back of my head, staring at the sky full of stars with a little grim on the side of my eye. My eyes were coming to stoop low and on the verge of closing when I stood up abruptly from the ground, wincing a little because of the pain, and started walking towards my floor.