Don't Talk To Daddy

Chapter Four

Dad's head poked up. He glared at me and then charged down the stairs. This would be bad. I ran after him down to Harmony, who was sitting in the living room, playing with her dolls. I picked her up, pushing the dolls to the side, and managed to carry her upstairs and into my room behind a closed door before the arguing started. 

I tried to muffle the sounds by turning up the radio, but I could still hear every word they yelled. Harmony looked concerned, but I quickly pulled out paper and crayons and instructed her to draw. I talked the whole time, trying to distract her from the yelling downstairs. 

"So, Harmony, is your favorite color still purple?" I asked, trying to turn her attention onto me.

"Why the hell would you ever dare to yell that in my own fucking house?!" My father screamed.

"So what is your favorite color now?" 

"Why the fuck are you yelling at me?" My mother screamed, still tipsy and confused.

"Oh, black. Well, that's... nice. So what are you drawing?" 

"If you still care so damn much about him, why don't you just leave?!" My father screamed loud enough our neighbors could hear."

Before I could speak to Harmony, she burst into tears, "Trinity, Why? Why? Why is daddy always yellin'? And why is mommy always crying? I don't like it when mommy cries! Trinity, make daddy stop! Please!" She begged on and on but her 'pleases' became lost within her sobs. I help onto her tightly, but said nothing. I really had nothing to say. We sat alone in the bright room, but all I saw was dark. Harmony cried, and it took every ounce of strength within me not to cry with her. All the time, the arguing from downstairs became louder and louder. 

We had been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes when we heard the vase in the downstairs hallway crash. I pushed Harmony to the side and whispered to Harmony that I would be right back, and I ran downstairs, the yelling becoming louder with each step I took. 

Mom was crying on the couch as Dad screamed at her. It was a horrific sight seeing my father tower over her like that. My mom was small and fragile, and compared to him, she looked like a mouse. "Daddy, stop it!" I screamed out, running over to Dad, pushing him away from Mom. Unlike Mom, I was tall, and was able to move Dad at least a few inches back. 

Tears welled up in my eyes as I screamed at Dad, "Daddy please stop!" I begged, "Harmony's upstairs crying because of you two!" I sobbed. "Mommy's drunk, Daddy! Can't you see! She doesn't mean any of this. Please Daddy just stop, at least for Harmony."

"For Harmony?" He sneered, "She's not even mine." He looked me dead in the eyes, telling me that I better back off or I'd be the one in... trouble. 

I quickly stepped back, but still begged, "Please, for Harmony."

"She's not my daughter. It wouldn't matter if she was here or not," He said coldly.

The cold words sunk in. I jumped away and ran upstairs, back to Harmony.

"Harmony! Harmony, I'm sorry," I joined her in sobbing. "I can't fix this. I can't," I admitted to her. I hugged her again, "I can't make mommy stop crying. I can't make daddy stop yelling. I can't!"

"Get the fuck out of my house! Go be with him, I don't give a fuck! Just get out, bitch! Get the fuck out of my damn house!"

I heard the door slam downstairs. Hard. The door shook the house and I cried louder. I wiped the tears off of my face as downstairs grew silent. I heard one more slam on the wall, and that was it. I wiped the tears off of Harmony's face and muttered to her, "Don't talk to Daddy."