The Marvelous Thoughts of Indiana Sharp

[2]

Indiana got home later than she should have. Her father was already throwing glass at the walls and downing a bottle when she stepped through the door.

She stepped over the broken glass and walked into the kitchen, getting the Advil ready for when her father calmed down.

"Daddy, calm down. It's okay, she's not here." She pleaded, putting her hands in front of her father as he threw the empty bottle at the ground. This happened more than it should have. Her father was a drunk, a miserable soul in a large human body incapable of expressing emotion.

It didn't help that Indie was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the freckle above the lip. William Sharp reached forward and slapped Indie across the jaw, pinning her against the wall.

"I hate you so much," he muttered through muffled tears, wrapping his hands around his daughter's throat in confusion. It happened way too often.

When he was drunk, William Sharp confused Indiana for his wife, who had left them when Indiana was fourteen.

Indiana knew he didn't mean it but that didn't stop tears from rushing to her cheeks as she strained for breath, the world dizzying around her as her father's grip tightened.

"Daddy it's just me. It's just Indie. Mom isn't here, she isn't here." She cried, finally breaking loose of her father's hold. William took another bottle, drinking it dry as Indie caught her breath.

Indiana should have known better, she should have gone upstairs. Instead she tried to grab the bottle from her father.

"Don't touch me!" He screamed, swinging the bottle at Indiana and knocking her in the jaw hard enough to send her crashing to the ground in a pile of wild hair and broken glass. He yanked Indiana up by her hair and slammed her hard against the wall again. "Don't you ever touch me," he cried out. He let go of his daughter's hair and she crumpled like the ashes in the tray by the full sink.

Indiana sobbed, clutching her arm, which bled from the broken glass on the ground. Her vision was spinning, or maybe it was the earth. She stood to her feet and decided to give up, to go upstairs. Her father hunched over the counter with his head in between his elbows as he just screamed about what a traitor his wife-her mother-was. He just screamed until his lungs gave out.

Indiana ran up to her bedroom as quickly as she could with her fading vision, locking the door behind her. She could feel her body aching and her heart beat slowing, like she was about to go to sleep. Her feet fell numb and she wanted to lie down, to dream beautiful dreams and pretend her father was still happy. But the aching in her cheek and the blood dripping from her arm and her thigh demanded attention, and her beautiful dreams would have to wait a little while.

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Mulberry Avenue was bright and sunny the following afternoon, instantly lifting Indiana Sharp's gloomy mood. She slipped off her sandals and began the trek from school to home.

Her father, once sober, had apologized excessively, crying and promising that it wouldn't happen again. But Indiana knew that promises were flimsy when it came to her father and that it would happen again. As soon as he got drunk and angry, he would beat her up again, all because she looked like her mother. She knew it was wishful thinking to hope that her father would change. She just wanted him to be happy again. She wanted him to be her father again, not the crazy drunk man she lived in constant fear of. She loved her father, but love was a scary thing and Indie couldn't leave him alone.