Each Other's

Chapter 7

The days passed quite slowly, but they passed nonetheless.
I was awoken early on a Saturday morning by the sound of Melanie screaming "Wake up! Wake up!" at the top of her lungs.
I was pretty sure that Melanie was two now, though I wasn't exactly sure when her birthday was. She was getting better at talking--and yelling--with each passing day. She was continuously repeating words that I used while talking to her, adding them to her expanding vocabulary. Sometimes I would catch her sitting quietly in a corner, just reciting words to herself randomly.
"I'm up, I'm up.", I groaned, rolling out of bed. Melanie, who had been hopping around the room while she yelled, stopped to stand in front of me as soon as I got out of bed.
She grinned, and, as per usual, I grinned right back. Her smile was just too infectious not to.
With a start, I realized that dad was off from work today. He hadn't been home last Saturday, but there was still a small chance that he'd be home today.
"Wait here, okay?", I said to Melanie as the smile faded from my lips. Her round blue eyes widened, and she nodded, seeming to sense that I was serious.
I left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly as I left. I paused for a moment and listened for any noises that would give away dad's presence, but I heard nothing. No blaring television, no snores, no foot-steps.
I crept down the hall towards dad's bedroom, and carefully opened the door to peek inside. It was empty.
I then went down the stairs to check the living room and the kitchen, but those were empty too.
Upon looking out of the kitchen window, I saw that the car was gone, which meant that dad wasn't home.
I exhaled, feeling as if I'd been holding my breath for a few minutes.
I was extremely relieved that he wasn't home. When dad was home, I felt like I was in jail, like I had to silently hide in my room all the time...Yet, a small part of me was disappointed that he was gone.
I...I wanted to fix our relationship. I wasn't sure if that was even possible anymore, and I was much too afraid to try and talk to him, but I didn't know how long I could stand to have things stay the way they were. There were a couple of books I needed to buy for school; maybe I could ask him to buy those as a way of starting a conversation.
My fingers traced the still bruised skin on my chest through my t-shirt as I let my thoughts wander.
Abusive...I repeated that word to myself for the hundredth time. It still sounded so foreign to me when associated with my father.
I heard the sound of a door opening upstairs, and I started.
I spun around, relaxing when I saw that it was only Melanie, poking her curly head out of the bedroom.
"Come on down.", I said before going over to the fridge to get us both something to eat.
Melanie bounded down the stairs, and climbed onto her chair before I had even opened the fridge door. I just could not get used to her speed.
Shaking my head, I pulled a carton of milk and some bananas, bread and cheese out of the fridge.
Food was the one thing that dad actually seemed to take responsibility for; our fridge was always well stocked with basic food--no cookies or chocolates, though. I knew that it was dad who bought the food, because I'd seen him carry the groceries in a few times during my nightly spying from the top of the stairs. It comforted me to know that he still cared, at least a little, about our well-being.
I made Melanie and I one cheese sandwich each, along with some milk and a banana. It was nothing too fancy, but it'd do just fine.
I ate in silence, while Melanie slurped and chewed loudly.
"Mashe.", Melanie said eventually, her mouth full of banana.
"Mason.", I corrected her. I'd been trying to get her to call me by my proper name lately. "And don't talk while you have food in your mouth."
Melanie impatiently swallowed, and then said, "Mashe, will Maggie come?"
"Nope, it's Saturday. She'll come on Monday."
Melanie looked a little dejected. "Oh.", she said.
After a brief pause, she started, "Mashe-"
"Mason.", I interrupted, raising my eyebrows. "Where did you learn to call me "Mashe", anyway?"
Melanie frowned, sticking her bottom lip out. "Mama.", she stated matter-of-factly.
I frowned too, now. From Laura?
"You're a good kid, Mase. You know that?"
Oh, right! She'd always called me "Mase". So that was where Melanie had picked up her nickname for me. To my surprise, thinking about Laura was not as painful as it had been. It was now just like a dull prick of a needle in the chest.
I chuckled a little. "Well, at least call me "Mase", then."
Melanie only continued to pout.
I sighed. "Finish your breakfast.", I said, picking up my own sandwich.
---
Once Melanie and I had finished eating, we went up to the bedroom. She played with her toys in her favourite corner of the room, while I cracked open my text-books to get some studying done. Melanie was as quiet as a toddler as she had been loud as a baby. I supposed it was because of me--I was always coaxing her to stay quiet, especially when dad was home.
I studied for a good 45 minutes before I heard the sound of the main door being unlocked. I froze for a second, starting to panic. Dad was home.
I tried to calm myself down.
Suddenly, I remembered that I had to ask him about buying my school-books. Now was as good a time as any other, wasn't it?
I glanced at Melanie, chewing on my lip. She was staring at me, noticing my reaction.
I quickly got to my feet, before I could convince myself not to do this.
"Stay here.", I said to Melanie in a fierce whisper. She looked frightened, which made me feel a pang of guilt, but she nodded.
I went down the stairs, trepidation starting to consume me. My knees shook a little as I entered the living room, not stopping to peek inside before going in.
Dad sat on the couch, still in a suit, despite the fact that it was his day off from work. His sleeves and collar were unbuttoned, and his tie loosened. His face was unwashed, and he now had a small grey, straggly beard.
"Dad.", I started, trying to make my voice sound strong. "I-I was wondering if you could buy something for me." I cringed internally as my voice shook at the last word.
Dad looked at me, and there was something unexpected in his eyes....Fear.
"Get...Get away from me!", he yelled, getting up from the couch.
Was he drunk again?
"Dad, it's me-"
"Get AWAY from me!", he barked.
Maybe because he looked afraid rather than angry, I lost all my fear for a second and took a few steps towards him.
"Dad-"
He pulled back his fist and punched me again.
This time, it was in the stomach, and harder than the first time. I heard a horrible groaning noise escape my mouth as I fell on my tailbone.
My head spun, and I couldn't see anything at all for several moments. All I could hear was dad gasping for breath...and then...
"Mashe?"
Pure dread flooded through my body at the sound of that voice.
"Melanie!", I yelled, frantically trying to get up. I fell down immediately--everything was still blurred and spinning.
"Daddy?", I heard her say.
"No...stop...", I tried to shout, but the words came out as unintelligible mumbling.
"GET AWAY!", Dad screamed. I heard a thud. And then a wail.
My vision was back.
Melanie was a few feet away from me, wearing a shocked expression as tears flowed down her face. Dad had shoved her away from him.
"I-if you come near me...You'll die.", dad muttered, almost to himself, eyes darting around like crazy as he shrunk into the wall on the other side of the room.
Horrified, I scooped up Melanie in my arms and ran upstairs to the bedroom, closing the door before putting her down. My breath came in gasps. All the hope I'd had about fixing our relationship...It was all gone. There was nothing left to fix.
I quickly tried to calm myself, for Melanie.
"Are you okay?", I asked, turning to the sobbing child. "Are you hurt?"
Melanie shook her head, hiccupping. Her face was red, and her eyes puffy. I checked her arms and legs for any visible injuries, but she seemed alright, to my great relief. I shuddered to think what could've happened.
I couldn't believe that dad had actually tried to hurt her, a toddler! He wasn't in his right mind. The way he'd talked and acted...it definitely wasn't normal. I just wasn't sure if it was only the alcohol, or if he had actually completely lost it.
I sat down on the floor, about to pull Melanie onto my lap, only to immediately get back up. My stomach was throbbing like crazy, and it hurt my tailbone to sit.
"Daddy...daddy is bad.", Melanie said through her tears.
"Yeah...", I agreed, holding my own tears back.
What was I supposed to do now?
Should I tell someone? But...where would Melanie and I go? An orphanage? What if we were separated?
From all the novels I'd read, orphanages sounded almost like jail for children. And I absolutely couldn't be separated from Melanie!
Also...It was stupid, but...I couldn't just leave dad. Yes, he was an alcoholic, he was frightening and dangerous and I hated him--but my real father was buried deep in there, somewhere, and I couldn't abandon him.
*****
A/N:
Sorry if this story is a bit slow and depressing. It'll speed up soon! Also, I have almost no experience with kids, so I hope the parts about Melanie are realistic ^_^ I also have no experience with physical abuse :o I hope that bit is realistic as well!
Please please please comment and tell me what you think.