"I see through those silent lies of yours, Liv."
𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫, the girl who's known to be mute in school. No one knows why though, and she doesn't want anyone to know either. Only her best friend and this certain boy want to know why. S...
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As I walk home, I sigh. It's only Tuesday, I'm both annoyed at that but grateful. School is annoying and tiring, but it also gets me away from dad so I'm grateful for it.
My feet are so sore from always walking home. It's a thirty-forty minute walk which isn't that long, but from what dad does, it makes the walks painful at times. I have less than five minutes of the walk left, so I slow down and prepare myself for dad, avoiding him for as much longer as I can.
I wish I wouldn't want to avoid my own dad, it's quite sad. I wish I could be happy to go home and see him, tell him about my day, have him help with the homework I don't understand while he makes my favorite snack. I just wish it could be like that again.
Why would I avoid my dad? Hmm. Lots of people love their dads and are their best friends, me and my dad are the complete opposite. We hate each other, well I don't ever show it, he sure does though. I don't know, maybe I don't hate him, but with how much he hurts me I should. But I still somehow hope the old version of him is somewhere deep down in him even after all these years.
The old version of him being my best friend, an actual dad. He used to want to hurt anyone who caused me pain, but now he is the one who causes me pain. Every single day. I'd do anything just to have him read me a bedtime story one more time and tuck me in bed, he hasn't done that in years.
I'm jealous as I walk by neighbors houses, seeing kids running around and having fun, their only worries being to get their homework done. I wish that could be my only worry. So many kids complain about homework, but I enjoy it even if I'm not the brightest person and never do well. It distracts me from reality, gives me something to do.
I hate how my worries all lead back to dad. Worry about him hurting me, worry about messing up and him using it as an excuse to hurt me, worry if he's drunk, worry about not making him food good enough, worry this worry that. It always leads back to dad.
Sometimes I wonder why I still even call him dad, but again it's probably the hope of the old him still being somewhere within him. He has to be there somewhere. Me and Hadley, my sister, just woke up one day and he was completely different from how he used to be.
Like he just completely flipped a switch. He turned off the light, becoming dark.
I groan seeing the house come into view, mentally and physically preparing myself for whatever he'll do today. As I walk in he's sitting on the couch, beer bottle in hand. Here goes the worrying, it's always worse when he's drunk.
But he's been drunk a lot lately. He never did used to drink, even when he seemed to flip a switch. But for the last year he has been.
"Where the hell were you?" Well, let me think, the only place you allow me to go, school. I wish I could say that outloud but I would regret it greatly. Even if I did really want to say it I couldn't, I don't talk. I can talk, but the words can never leave my mouth. I haven't talked in years and in a way, it's so much easier. My mouth would get me into plenty of trouble I'm sure.
