Living a Nightmare and a Dream

Chapter 5: Alcohol, Abuse, and Fire

I was sitting on the couch, listening to Shaggy and Scooby yelling and running away from some cheesy ghost. I laughed as Scooby ran into Shaggy and then slid into the rest of the gang. I heard the front door shut and I sprang up, knowing it could only be one person. Mommy was home. Finally Brittany would leave. Brittany was my babysitter and she never did anything except sit in the kitchen and talk on the phone with her boyfriend. She was probably about 5’1” with blonde hair that had a pink streak in it. I don’t know why Mom paid her to be here, but she always comes and babysits me when Dad is “away” and Mom is busy. Sometimes, Mom would be out a little late but she always got home in time to put me to bed. Dad was out again, at least that’s what Mom said. Except when Dad came back, he was always unhappy. I was hoping tonight he wouldn’t yell again. “Mommy!” I yelled, running to her.

“Hello my baby. How was your day being home sick?” She picked me up and hugged me.  I coughed a little and shrugged.

“Brittany is still on the phone, but I got to watch Shaggy and Scooby.” I answered. Mom put me down and looked at me.

“You’re getting heavy for a four year old. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to pick you up,” she said to me jokingly. I watched her walk into the kitchen and heard her and Brittany talk for a little while, then saw Brittany walk out.

“Bye shrimp.” She called over her shoulder to me.

“Bye Bri Bri.” I called after her. That was my little nickname for her. I knew she hated it, just as she knew I hated being called shrimp. I was tall for my age, according to Mom.

“Isn’t it your bedtime yet?” Mom looked at the clock on the stove, which read 7:45.

“Please Mommy? I wanna finish my show,” I begged her, using my big brown eyed puppy stare on her. She laughed and nodded. I jumped and ran over to the couch. Mom soon joined me and we watched cartoons and ended up falling asleep on the couch to Fred Flinstone.

I woke up to people yelling and banging. Dad was home. I snuck into the bathroom and started to brush my teeth, hoping that I could get into bed before Dad came storming out. I could still see the bruise shaped like a hand on my arm from where he had grabbed me a couple nights ago. Maybe tonight Dad wouldn’t hit her. Maybe Mom wouldn’t be crying in the morning. But I knew that that would never happen. It happened every night. I had finished brushing my teeth and snuck into my room and climbed into my bed. Max was sitting in bed, waiting just like he did every night. Max was my little Beagle stuffed animal. He was my only comfort when Mom and Dad fought.

“Catherine Ann! Get in here now!” I heard Dad yell from downstairs. I started to shake and slowly got out of bed.

“Yes Daddy?” I stood at the top of the stairs, clutching Max to my chest and hiding part of my face behind him.

“Did I say come to the stairs?! I said come here!” He yelled again. I sprinted downstairs and ran into the living room. Dad was standing there, arms crossed. He stood at about 6’5” and he used to be a big time boxer, but all he did after his career ended was work out, go to clubs, and get drunk. Every once in awhile he would go work at the repair shop, but that was only when we were desperate for cash. He had a buzz cut and no fat on him. He was always clean shaven and had the darkest brown eyes. That’s the only thing that was part of me that showed my relation to him. Everyone said I looked like my mom, except for my eyes. My eyes were his and were filled with a darkness that no one understood. Some say that my eyes just look black and you can’t tell where my pupils start. I even had people say that they seemed like they were filled with a pained look, one you only get out of an abused animal. They never understood how close that description was. I was an abused animal.

“Yes Daddy?” I tried to use my innocent voice and tried to show that I wasn’t scared, but my voice started to shake. I was terrified of what he would do to me.

“What the hell is this? Why is your glass right here?” He pointed at the coffee table and my heart stopped. I had forgotten about that.

“It’s mine honey. It’s not Catherine’s. I’m sorry. How about some dinner?” I heard my mom’s shaken voice coming from her bedroom.

“Get your lazy ass out here you bitch!” He called over his shoulder. My mom stumbled out of her room and leaned against the doorframe. Her lip was busted open and I could see a black eye forming. She clutched her side and could barely stand up straight. Bruises covered her arms and there were red marks shaped like hands around her neck.

“You hit her! Why did you hit Mommy?!” Something had taken over and all the anger I felt towards my father came out. I charged him and time seemed to slow down. I heard my mom cry out my name and saw my father turn, but I didn’t care. I lunged and started to hit him. I just kept hitting him and screaming at him. All of a sudden, I left the ground. I felt weightless almost, and then I hit something hard and almost blacked out.

“What did you do to her?!” I heard Mom yell. I saw him raise his fist towards her and I tried to yell out, but no words came. I heard glass break and a thump. I glanced at my father who was walking into the kitchen, probably to grab another beer. Mom was laying on the floor, unconscious. I crawled towards her and tried to shake her awake. Her chest moved slowly up and down as she breathed, but it was shallow. The glass that had started this whole fight had shattered and was all over the living room. Dad walked back in and saw me trying to help Mom.

“Leave that sleazy bitch alone. She’s nothing. Now go make me some food.” he grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I staggered into the kitchen and fell to my knees. I couldn’t see anything, much less stand straight.

“Daddy...” I called out, hoping that he would help me, even if it meant a beating.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I give you everything. I pay for your school, I give you stuffed animals. I buy you whatever you want and now you’re too lazy to make me some goddamn food?!” Dad walked in and hovered over me. I whimpered and tried to curl into a ball, but he grabbed me again, this time by my ponytail. I cried out and I felt hot tears leak and roll down my face. “Look, the little baby’s gonna cry now because she can’t take some pain,” Dad growled as he shook me a little. I started to cry and squirm, only making the pain worse.

“Please stop! I’ll do anything!” I begged him, but he was too drunk to hear my cries of pain. He pulled me close and whispered, “You and your mom are holding me back. You are the reason my career ended. I was supposed to be a family man apparently. I guess that there’s only one way to end it all.” He threw me to the ground and walked into the bedroom, beer in his hand as always. I stumbled after him and saw that he had a knife. He wasn’t headed towards the bedroom, he was headed towards the one person I cared about.

“NO!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and lunged at him. Dad turned and saw me coming. I hit his side and caused him to stumble and crash into the fireplace. I heard the knife hit the fireplace and heard glass shatter. It was his beer bottle breaking in front of the lit fireplace. Pieces were everywhere and the smell of alcohol filled my nose and then the smell of something burning. I looked down and saw that my pant leg was caught on fire. I screamed and tried to put it out. Fire was everywhere. The couch, the curtains. It moved quickly, eating everything in sight. I ran over to my mom and started to shake her. Her skin was still warm but her breathing had stopped.

“MOMMY! Wake up!” I tried to shake her, slap her, yell at her, but she wouldn’t get up. I heard the front door slam and saw my dad run out on us. I’m going to die. I thought. I tried to make a move to the door but my legs seemed frozen in place. I heard sirens in the distance and crawled towards my mom and dad’s room. I slammed the door closed and hid behind the bed. Pain was shooting up and down my body and I screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone, anyone, would hear me. I screamed again and again and finally passed out from the pain. My last thought was I don’t want to die.