Dead Hearts

Chapter Nine

After John left – I’ve decided that he doesn’t deserve to be called dad because he doesn’t act like it – I had nothing to do. Mom was still crumbled on the ground, arms limp and shielding her head. At least she had sense to protect her head while John was beating her.

            I didn’t even bother to move her or see if she’s still breathing. What did she ever do for me?

            Since I don’t have my phone with me, I don’t really know what time it is. To me it seems like I’ve been here for five hours, but I’m pretty sure that’s only because I’m bored. It’s probably only been around an hour or so.

            There’s nothing to do since the warehouse is empty, so I just begin reading the graffiti on the wall. I don’t get to read anything other than “fuck you” because beside me, mom starts to move. At first, she’s just making groaning noises, but then she starts calling my name.

            “Presley?” she moans, attempting to push herself up from the ground. My first instinct is to go over to her and help her up, but then I remember that she wouldn’t have done that for me if our roles were switched. “Presley, honey, help your mother up.”

            I continue to sit against the wall, unmoving.

            “Come on, Presley,” she says. “Don’t be like that.”

            Still, I don’t make any moves to help her. I look at my shoes, examining the dirt on them. My black converse are about four years old, and they’re a little small.

            “Presley, don’t be like that. I can’t get up. Help me.” Her voice is raspy, and I can hear her struggle to help herself up. Should I help her?

            Logan got them for me for my twelfth birthday. I miss the Logan that could get me birthday presents. I don’t even think he remember my last birthday since it was after Mary died.

            “Presley-“

            Giving in, I stand up and walk over to my mother. I put my hands underneath her armpits and heave her up. She’s not exactly the lightest person in the world nor am I the strongest, so it takes team effort to get her propped up against the pillar that she was beaten not only an hour ago against.

            Sweat lines her brow, and I suppose that I sort of feel bad for her. I mean, she was beaten pretty badly, and I didn’t jump in to save until she was on the brink of death. Maybe I just believed that he wouldn’t do it. Maybe I just didn’t believe that John – my own father – had it in him to beat his wife until she died.

            But he was going to do it. He was seriously going to do it. I guess that was a wakeup call for me. John can’t be trusted, and he’s never going to change.

            I hope Logan decides that it’s time to finally own up to what he did, because I honestly don’t feel like dying today.

            “Thank you,” mom rasps, coughing afterward. She goes through a series of hacking before it finally stops. “Thank you.” Her voice is clearer the second time around.

            I don’t even bother saying ‘you’re welcome’ because I know that it won’t mean anything to her. Looking away, I try to block out her words, but I just can’t.

            “Presley,” she says, and I can feel her gaze on the back of my head. I ignore it. “Presley, honey, listen to me. I… I’m really sorry about what happened earlier.”