Chapter Thirteen
When it started getting dark out I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay away from there. I kept seeing his face and smelling his breath. I never wanted to go home again. But I knew I had to. By the time I got there it was already really dark out. That meant I was late. I knew mom would be mad at me now too. So I just continued to take my time getting to the door. I didn't even get half way to it and I could hear all kinds of yelling and things crashing. They were having a big blow up. I didn't want to go inside. I just stood on the porch for a long time waiting for it to die down before I walked into it. When I realized it wasn't going to any time soon I decided to try to slip in unnoticed and just go straight to my room.
I slowly opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through. I even squeezed through kind of crouched down low to the floor. So far so good, but how was I going to get past them and the counter when they were right there at it? I tried to hide somehow before I was seen, hoping that maybe they would move and I would be able to slip by. I was almost behind dad's recliner when I was spotted.
Mom started screaming g at me for being late, and dad was already heading toward me. He grabbed me and yanked me out from behind the recliner. Just as he went to slap me mom jumped in between us. The slap landed so hard on the back of her head that she fell into me and we both went down to the floor. Mom landed on top of me and as we were trying to get up dad started kicking at both of us hard. His first kick landed on my arm and I screamed out in pain. His next caught mom in the stomach. I tried to get out from under her as she curled up into a tight ball in pain. His third kick landed and got mom in the legs. I managed to finally get up and I ran as fast as I could to the back door and then outside. I could hear dad yelling and mom screaming out as I ran.
I hid in behind a dirt mound that was across the driveway from the house. It was so dark out that I couldn't see anything. The sky was cloudy, so the moon wasn't even shining. If I could have seen I would have ran to my shed. But in this kind of dark even I wouldn't have been able to get there, even after going there everyday. I put my hands over my ears to try to block out the sounds of the fighting. I knew it was going to happen, but I never expected it to be this bad.
After what seemed like hours setting out there, the yelling finally stopped and I heard a vehicle start up and spin going out of the driveway. Once I was sure it was safe, I came out from hiding and slowly walked back inside. I was scared of how bad mom was going to be. I didn't hear anything coming from anywhere in the house. Was mom OK? Did he kill her? Then I heard the water turn on in the bathroom. When I got to the doorway, mom was standing at the sink washing blood off of her face.
Her lip was busted and swollen, and she could barely stand upright. Bruises were already starting to show up on her legs and arms. She wasn't crying or anything and she looked so fragile and lost. I had never seem her look that way before. I had seen her beat up before, but never have I seen her look so frail. When she saw me standing there looking at her, she just whispered in a hoarse voice to go on to bed. She didn't say it hatefully like she used to speak to me after a fight. She just said it in a voice that sounded like she was saying it to someone else.
I didn't even get undressed and changed into my pajamas. I just crawled into bed and quietly cried. I tried to stay awake so I could hear if he came back, but I must have dozed off anyway. The next thing I knew it was morning and the sun was shining brightly through the window. I got up expecting to find mom to have stayed home from work and taking care of her bruises. Instead I found an empty house.
Her makeup was still out and on the bathroom counter. I guess she must have gotten good over the years at masking and hiding any traces of where she had been hit. I was thankful that dad's truck was still gone too. I hoped that he was gone for good, but since all his stuff was still here I knew that he would come back though. Knowing he would be coming back was fine with me just as long as it was to get his stuff and leave forever.
I went into their room and dug through dad's stuff to see if I could find my knife. I wanted it back. I wanted to have it on me and at the ready next time he tried to hurt me or mom. I wouldn't be caught off guard next time either. I searched everywhere though and could not find it. Where ever he put it, or whatever he did with it, it wasn't here. I would have to find something else to carry on me and use on him if and when he attacked again.
