Two Worlds Distanced

Chapter 103

RACHEL

All I see and feel at this numbness and shame. Shame for my family and numbness from hearing my birth on her destroying any tiny choice of a happy childhood moment. I don't remember a childhood moment that was as happy as other girls, for example when they finally got their training wheels off or the girls talked they would have with mothers about their first date or first period. I basically learned that stuff from magazines and my friend Hannah. Nothing about childhood things like my family were not perfect so for that I'm ashamed to have this family who only carried secrets like the ones I had to know from my mother. The ones my own father didn't have the fucking guts to tell me. Her words hurts me more than having a knife stabbing my heart through my back.

...

*Flashback, February 2000* *Raven's Point of view*

I'm so unbelievably tired from standing on my feet for hours in the garden. As much as I love doing what I'm doing, it's not worth standing on my feet for nine hours straight with a ten-minute break every other four hours. I open the door to immediately smell bottles of beer and smoke. I shake my head of not being surprised that I smell it, and don't remember a night that I would come home and see Ryan smoking a joint or snorting up some cocaine. He lost his job due his bad drug habit. Drugs are his oxygen to breathe. I luckily got a job as a gardener to pay the multiple overdue bills for the small house.

"Ryan, I'm home," I shout out when walking to the living room and hear television through the house. I look at him, past out with four beers on the small table next the reliance chair, grab the remote and shut the Philadelphia Eagles football games he watched as he always does every Sunday night.

I throw the remote on the couch and walk away until feeling Ryan's slight grab on my wrist, "Ryan," I try to push him off of me, "Get off of me,".

"Shh," he wipers when pushing me onto the couch, smelling like whiskey and weed. I try to move away but his tightly grabs my wrists and throat, "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Be quiet. I promise I will be quick and fast," he unbuttoned his jeans along with pulling down his underwear, "Please get off of me—" I get cut off by seeing stars and everything goes blacker and darker. I feel numb when feeling something.

*Back to reality*

I wipe my tears away as I see my father enjoying his beer on the couch. It's like I'm seeing a mirror reflection of my mother, when she was showing her troubled struggles, he was hiding them and pretending nothing happened before I even existed. The thought of myself not existing because of two heartless alcoholics makes my skin burn. I look around the house that hasn't changed since I was little, to see Angela putting a muffin pan inside the oven who doesn't have no idea what kind of man she married; thinking she married Prince Charming but a monster.

"Hi sweetheart," my father greets me without taking his eyes off of the television, watching Philadelphia Eagles football. I stand in front of the tv, "Really Rachel," he moves his head side to side to try to watch the running pass but misses when I turn it off, "Rachel Irene—". My anger takes over me, grab his glass bottle and throw it towards the door as it closes the door that Ezra standing but ignore him at the moment, "What the fuck!" my father yells.

"Shut the fuck up! Guess who I saw today? Raven, my birth mother and she told me everything that you did to her, choking her to almost death when forcing yourself on her. Are you out of your fucking mind," I wipe the running tears coming down my face, "After everything she put me through and out family, I thought you were a good parent but after today you are nothing but—" I try to catch my breath but clench my chest as falling onto my knees, hard on the floor, "You are a rapist. You raped my mother. AHHHH WHY!" I clench my harder so I don't explore and to keep myself from hating him but it's more likely I will forever. I hate myself more than I do at him because I believe him, believe his lies all these years. That's my naive fault. I feel numb.

"Ryan? Is that true?".

Before I crawl into a ball, I turn around to see Angela who is filled with shock from red eyes. My father comes speechless to be careful of the next words he says, "Angie? I-I'm-". She walks towards him, stares at him for a few seconds until slapping him across the face, the sound makes me jump, "How could you?" she looks at the wedding ring that's been glued onto her since they got married, takes it off and throws it at him. Angela goes back to the kitchen, grabs her phone and starts dialing something. Please be the police.

My father picks up the ring, looks at me and the ring, "You?" he screams, walks over towards me when I'm trying to stand up, "You should have just kept your fucking mouth shut," his brown eyes turning black, grabs my arm so tightly and toss me across the room so hard, a picture frame fells down on me and pieces of glass are around me; Ezra immediately swings under arms, takes me to the couch, "Are you okay?" he asks, and I nod. No, I'm not okay. I just got tossed around like a potato sack and felt something sharp on me and it's bleeding from a glass slice on my cheek. Ezra stares at my father for a moment, "You worthless piece of shit," he runs up to him, grabs his collar and shoves him in the wall, so hard that the drywall cracked a little.

My father swings Ezra onto the ground and starts punching his face left and right, "Dad! Stop it! You are hurting him!" I scream out and whimpers, I barely feel my voice after that. Angela gasps as coming back in the room, grabs him by the back of the collar, "Get off of him! He has nothing to do with this agreement. He was only defending my daughter,". She comes by means checks on my cheek, rubs it and I flinch a little.

"Your daughter?" he shakes his head and tries to come up at me but I nod my head no and hug Ezra as tightly as I can.

"Yes, my daughter. I fucking signed the paper when she was eleven when you were too busy working or whatever god knows what. I have what you did after all these years. I have struck around with you but I never said one word but after today I knew I was wrong to marry you," she cries out at him, as willing her tears away.

*Knock Knock*

All of our heads turn towards the door, I hold my breath as Angela opens the door and two police officers, one of them is Officer Gretchen I met earlier when I was seeing Raven. They walk inside, the other office left looks he hasn't gotten sleep in four night from the multiple dark circles under his hollow eyes.

"Are you Ryan Carson?" Officer Gretchen asks, walks over to him with a set of handcuffs.

"Yes. What seems to be the problem, officers?" Ryan's voice seems all shaky and nervous. I can't believe I have to see and witness again. My life is nothing beside half of my family behind bars. Why couldn't I decent enough family who loves me and doesn't give me this kind of pain?

"Ryan Carson, you are under arrest for domestic violence," she swings both of his arms behind his back and puts the handcuffs on him, "Wait! What? I didn't do anything. Rachel, sweetheart. Please tell them the truth," he demands me when begging eyes that's filled with devilish and brokenness. I stare at him, slowly letting my hand go of Ezra's that he's been holding since the police walked.

I don't say anything, wrap my arms his neck, and cry onto his neck wishing and hoping this isn't the last time I see him, "I love you," is all I say before saying these words that will feel gasoline go jog down my throat, "Officers you can him now,". I follow him and watch them him to the back of the police car and shut the door. After that, I immediately run back inside the house without saying anything.

...

A while later, I go back to my room and grab all of my bags. I started packing everything I had. I don't want to be any longer, I keep thinking as wiping all of the harsh tears running down my cheek that still string.

"What are you doing?" Ezra comes walking in here all worried.

"I'm going home. My other home, so are you going to come here to literature me about what happened or help me pack so we can leave?" I question, put my hands on my hips. He glances at my messy suitcase, I don't have time to fold every clothing piece all neat like I normally do because I just wasn't going to leave, "What do you need help with?" He answers without hesitation.