Do we truly know those we consider as our family?
This is the last year before the beginning of the rest of Cara and Mia lives!
Mia Carter still has one more year to spend on Angel Island before leaving, with her best friend, for Montreal to pursue...
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Chapter 20 - Family line
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Austin - Sunday, 7 PM
I collapse in exhaustion onto my bed. My ribs are sore, and I grimace in pain as I cough. He really did a number on me I had never seen him like that before. I came home after a call from my mother while Mia had just fallen asleep; she was terrified. My father came home furious. The cabinets and furniture had all been turned upside down, as if they were desperately searching for something.
My mother barricaded herself in the bedroom, leaving me alone to face him. I couldn't take this situation anymore, living like this. I snapped in front of him. "I can't live like this, with you." My voice cracks, and I feel anger rising within me. I step closer to him. He doesn't respond, his head buried in one of his drawers, frantically searching like a dog digging for a bone. "Look at me," I whisper. I place my hand on his arm and force him to face me. He jerks at the touch of my skin against his and shoves me forcefully. "Get out of the way." All the daily sports and training pay off because I don't budge an inch. "Stop it. That's enough, you've been drinking again, haven't you?" My father answers my question with the most sober and coldest look I have ever received from him in my life. And strangely, without the filter of alcohol, he has never been more terrifying. "You understand nothing, do you? You've never been very bright as a boy." His voice hisses like venom, and I clench my jaw.
I step back. "It's over. I'm not waiting until next year to leave. I have enough money, and with my scholarship, I can manage on my own. You may be the one who gave me life, but you'll never be my father."
I barely have time to finish my sentence before his hand crashes against my cheek. I try to counter his punches, but I have never seen him so furious, and the blows land violently against my stomach. Tears fill my eyes after a blow right on the nose. I taste blood in my mouth, but it doesn't stop the blows. I fall to my knees and spit on the floor.
"You're just a disappointment." He leaves the room with that statement, and I hear the front door slam and the sound of his car engine starting. Like a tornado, he has already vanished, taking all his violence with him.
I remain alone, kneeling in his office.
I crawl slowly to my bed and collapse onto it, struggling to breathe. I take out my phone and hesitate to call Mia. I practice what to say, but my breathing is too erratic and my voice too hoarse not to worry her.
She's probably sleeping. I drop my phone onto my mattress and sit up, holding onto a rib. It's not broken, but it hurts like hell. My gaze drifts into emptiness, and I think about the hell I'll soon be leaving behind.
I get lost in dreams of the life I could have, with Mia. She told me she wants to live in Montreal, in the cold, with pine trees and the calm of Canada. The complete opposite of here. I smile as I imagine her in big sweaters and beanies larger than her head.
