Promise Not To Tell

Chapter 1

"You think I work hard for your sorry *** to just **** around and be young and make mistakes and do whatever the **** you wanna ****ing do?!" His face is feet away from mine but still I can smell the thick, foul smell of liquor suffocating in the space between us. "You wanna 'diddly daddly' around and ****ing waste away what little ****ing money we ****ing have?!" The mocking tone in his voice and irrelevant cussing angers me. No- It enrages me, forces the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and the lump in my throat grow larger than before. I want to yell at him, curse in his face, make him feel what I have endured all these years. For once, all I wanted was for him to feel inferior to me.

"No sir." I force through gritted teeth. I don't look up; I can't stand to meet his gaze in this drunken stupor, his face grimacing, his eyes numb. Without warning, his large, callused hand grips my arm and forces me on my way. But I snatch away. I can hear my heart thumping loud in my ears as my stomach turns and twists in my gut; I've never rebelled against Father like this.

His head snaps back around, eyes wide, furious. In this instance, all I know is terror, horror, dread. Adrenaline pumps through my veins in overwhelming amounts, it's pace rapidly quickening. My breaths begin to exaggerate; My face grows red.

"Don't you try to ****ing play with me you little *****!!" The longer he speaks, the louder his voice becomes. I just stand there, frozen in a bland stupor. It's like I'm aware of everything happening around me but I have no control over anything I say or do. He reaches for my neck.

"Stop!! Stop you..." I stammer for words. "You... YOU COWARD!!!" For a split second a look of constraint blankets his grim features - constraint from the numb, bleak person that he had become, constraint from the timid, anxious person he had made me.

"What did say to me??" He demands, his voice dropping down to a low whisper, barely audible apart from the raspy cough caught in his throat. He swings his flat hand around viciously to meet my cheek. I wince, frightened by the infuriated demeanor his former self lies buried beneath.

For the smallest moment, I spot this former self, this better self. I can barely grasp the man I once knew to tuck me in at night and scare away the monster in the depths that were concealed beneath my cushioned mattress before it's gone, soon replaced with the agonizing roar of his voice.

"I'M NOT GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN!" His tone rapidly ascends until my ears fill with the harrowing sound. I clench my fist tight, clutching my audacity deep within my grasp, never to let go. Gradually, I allow myself to breath. Slowly, in and out, in and out until my blood pumps at it's normal rate. I mumble at my lowest volume.

"Nothing, Sir."

"No!!" He shrieks. "I asked you what you said so you ****-well better tell me what the hell you ****ing said!!" By now, his face is only inches from mine. The stench of his odor carelessly rummages through the flower-scented perfume of my Aunt Carlie who has just previously left the house on account of Father's rapidly amplifying ire. I could easily spot the clutched expression ringing clear through her expression. She wanted desperately to escape the unsettling ora Father had trained to blanket our entire house, his entire house. And so did I. I mentally begged her to take me with her, stealing a glance or two over in her direction to assure that she was receiving my message, my cry for help, but all I could acquire was a single dismal glimpse at me as I lay helplessly sprawled across the cold tiles after yet another one of Father's meaningless whippings. That had been my third beating that day.

This would make my fifth.

It's 12 o'clock.

A.M.