Her Lesson

Chapter 11 | Miserable Fucker

A/N: There is violence and the homophobic slur dyke in this chapter. Please, read with caution!

VANESSA

"FUCKING BASTARD," I MUTTER and press my foot down on the gas. The six-pack of beer rattles on the floor of my car as I make a sharp turn. I drive through the familiar roads that lead to my house, passing run-down houses and shitty people that litter the streets. My hands are tight around my steering wheel as my mind races with thoughts about my fight with Lily. I didn't mean to make her upset or say something so rude to her, but when I'm angry, I can't control myself. I'm like a dog out for a walk when it sees another dog, uncontrollable and mean. And to top it all off, my sperm donor was the one to cause the little rip between Lily and me. Everything that goes wrong in my life happens because of the miserable fucker. I'm sick of it, sick of him.

My phone buzzes from its spot in my cup holder and I grumble under my breath. I grab it and keep my eyes on the road. Using my fingerprint to unlock it, I glance at the two new messages. I drop my phone back in the cup holder and turn up my radio, blasting my music to drown out my anger as the words from my phone screen sit comfortably in my head. One was from Lily and one was from my father.

LILY: I'm worried about you and want you to be safe. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.

Her message makes my heart flutter sweetly, mixed with a little guilt. I hate making her worry about me...she shouldn't have to deal with this bullshit that is my life. She deserves better. I knew the moment we saw each other at the club that she'd only get hurt being involved with me. But I'm so fucking selfish and she's mine and always mine.

The second text makes me want to shove my father's face through a cement wall. It has every nerve in my body itching to kill him, to make him suffer. But in the end, he'll win. He's bigger and stronger, but I'm faster.

SPERM DONOR: Where are you!? Fucking bitch! Answer me! You were always a disappointment. I wanted you gone, but your mom kept your sorry excuse of a daughter.

The words from his text stay rooted in my mind as I angrily clench my hands around my steering wheel. Knowing that if I don't respond to him it'll anger him more, I press the call button on my steering wheel.

"Call sperm donor," I talk loud so my car picks up my voice. The phone rings a few times before he picks up and by the time he answers, I'm livid.

"What?" He barks, the throaty rasp of his voice annoying every cell in my body.

"Listen very fucking carefully, you piece of cow shit. You lay one fingertip on mom and I'll have you picking up your teeth from the floor. I will be at the house in a few minutes and if she's harmed, you're going to fucking eat shit."

His cold laugh rings through my car and I glare at the road in front of me. "No, you listen to me you fucking dyke! I'm your father and you will not talk to me like you're some special bitch! You and your mom are so fucking alike, both whiney bitches! If you have my shit, your mom will be fine but as for you, it's a different story... Get your disgusting ass here soon, or you're in for it. You're fucking late already and I don't like waiting!" He slams the phone down before the call drops.

My body turns icy and my vision starts to blur a bit, but I press my foot down harder on the gas and race home. Because I swear if my mother is harmed, I'll lose my fucking mind. Nobody deserves what he does to us...but in his twisted mind, we do for just being women.

A few minutes later, I speed into the driveway and quickly gather the things I need from my car and leap out of it before running into the house. Slamming the door open, I find my father towering over my mother who sobs as she struggles to keep herself standing. At the sound of me entering the house, he turns his dull eyes to me and glares at me as I walk toward him.

"Here's your shit," I mutter darkly, throwing his beer and the drugs he made me pick up after I left Lily's house. I glance at my mother to make sure she isn't bleeding or harmed. She nods at me before taking a seat on the worn couch. In my pocket, my fingers play with the switchblade I've had for several years.

My dad wastes no time in creating a line on the table from the white powder that belongs in a garbage can. I watch with a blank face as he snorts the line of coke with glee, laughing and throwing his head back like he's just won the lottery. Gray hairs dot his black hair and wrinkles reside under his eyes while he laughs. For only being forty-seven, he looks like he's in his late sixties with rotting teeth and aging facial features.

In the span of a few seconds, my dad shoots out of his seat on the couch and stomps over to me. I stare up at him as he towers a few inches over me, glaring as hard as I can to express how much I hate him.

"What the fuck are you mad for, you little bitch?" He snarls and attempts to grab my arm but I slap his hand away. "Bitch! I'm your father, I'm allowed to touch you. I fucking own you, you little ungrateful dyke."

"You've given me nothing to be grateful for," I spit out. A few seconds pass as he glares down at me, anger swirling in his blue eyes. I ball my hands into fists and wait. When he raises his hand and slaps me across the face, I smile as my head swings to the side. I breathe heavily for a few seconds and surprise him by sending my right fist into his face.

My mom gasps and I look over at her. She shakes in her spot and I give her a teary smile. "Mom, go to your room, please. You'll be safe in there." My dad stumbles backward and I don't look at my mom again.

"You fucking bitch!" He roars, trying his best to run at me but he stumbles, drunk and high off his ass. I knee him in the gut and grab him by his throat, squeezing as hard as I can to get my point across.

"You own nobody, you don't own me or mom. The only thing you'll ever own is your own sad little life." I stomp on his foot hard and smile when I hear it crunch. He screams in pain and it's like music to my ears. "You're nothing to me, Norman."

As blood drips from his nose, he glares at me with so much hatred it makes me want to cry but I hold back my tears. "You're nothing to me, never were, Vanessa. You were always a mistake. A dyke for a fucking daughter," he laughs without any humor. "What a fucking mess."

"And you're nothing but a rotting bag of bones and flesh, an abusive asshole and the biggest coward to ever live. You're a fucking joke. I want you out of the house by the end of the week or so help me, I will go to the fucking police. You're fucking done hurting mom and me, Norman."

"I don't need you anyway," he snarls and pushes past me to sit on the couch. He turns on the TV and cracks open another beer. I stand and watch him for a few minutes, itching to beat his ass, to make him beg for mercy, but I walk away toward my mom's room.

I knock on her door a few times before walking in. The sight that waits for me has tears rushing to my eyes. It hurts so much it's as if my heart cracks a little.