"To thine own self be true" Yellowstone fanfiction

chapter 29 "blue Christmas"

1990
Twitty 14, beth 6, lee 10, jamie 8

My mother spent all day cleaning up the house for tomorrows Christmas party. Our Christmas parties consisted of my mother's side of the family, what was left of my father's side, politicians and journalists and of course fellow ranchers. This was the time of year where my father attempts to get on everyone's good side. Building the family name some more was key. My mother was big on parties, loved the friends, the family and the gossip. At this time of year I learned to stay away from my mother as she was in one of her moods. I sat by the fire warming my toes. When I was younger I was very animic. I had a high case of anemia. I self diagnosed myself by the thousands of books I would read in my life time. Never in my life would I  want to tell my mother or father. They would claim I was over dramatic or they would tell me to put a sweater on, although that wasn't the case. I found myself extremely tired, sometimes weak. The winter I would get so cold I would get sick. My stomach was feel like it was twisting itself up. I wouldn't eat for days. I needed medical attention but the last thing I needed from my mother was attention. So I suffered, longer than I should have.

"Move Jamie!" Beth shouted as she walked her hands across Jamie's Gameboy. Jamie shoved beth off the couch with one swift push of his palm. She pouted her lip as she stood up and fought back. I looked up from my blanket ball in front of the fire pit. "guys stop. You're gonna get hurt" I say under my breath as I chewed my brittle nails still staring into a thick textbook. "Beth go upstairs! No one likes you!" Jamie growled as he fought her back. They were tangled in each other smacking and kicking and yelling. I groaned as I put my book down on the ground then stood up. "Enough!!" I yelled yanking them apart, As I did so beth yanked out of my arm, causing herself to stumble then smash. Our mothers favorite lamp makes sweet love with the solid ground, shattering it into a million pieces. My eyes widened as so did the kids. "What was that!?" My mother shouted. "Beth" I gasped under my breath. "I..it wasn't me" she panicked. As my mother's footsteps got closer our hearts pounded faster. Jamie shot up his hands "wasn't me". My mother walks in, her hand covers her mouth. "Twitty!" She yells. I step back from the disaster. "What did you do!" She shouted. "It wasn't me mama! I was breaking them up! They were fighting! It was them!" I panicked. "What is wrong with you! I told you no fighting!" My mother was angry. She grabbed beth and Jamie by their arms, spinning them around she began to spank them. Beth cried, Jamie laughed as all smart ass boys do. "Evelyn!" My father entered. She let go of the small children looking up at my dad. "Get upstairs!" My father demanded to my siblings. Full of tears they both shoot up the stairs, as for I, I stayed put. "How dare you put your hands on my children like that!" He shouts. My mother stood with her arms crossed, unbothered. "Are you hearing me!? Don't you ever put your hands on my kids again!"

"How will they learn John! Telling them doesn't work!" She replied. My father shook his head in disappointment as he stared down at the lamp. "It was her fault anyways! She blamed the children on her mistake!" My mother pointed. My mom always liked to set the blame on me. There was always an attempt to make my father hate me. "What? N..no! No! I didn't do that! That wasn't me! Honest!"

"So you would just sit here and allow your siblings to get hurt?" My father scolded. I shook my head frantically "no daddy! I...I didn't know! I didn't mean to!" My father looked at my mother. She looked him deep in the eyes and said "looks like our eldest is a pussy" I hung my head in shame. My father didn't respond. He never responded when it came to her insulting me. My mother pointed her finger at me, then back down at the mess. "Clean it up! I've got rooms to fucking clean!" She stormed upstairs leaving my father and I. I grabbed the broom with my Shakey cold hands. I began to sweep keeping my head hung. "If your siblings are ever in trouble I expect you to be the adult. You don't snitch. You stay strong and hold your own understand me?" He says with a strict tone. I nodded my head slowly as I swept. "Yes sir" my father shuffled his way into the kitchen. I could hear him grabbing a glass from the cupboard. I listened to his hlass kiss the table along with ice bouncing off the bottom of the glass. A few refreshing glugs from a bottle dropped to the cup. I hear his glass lift up then smack back down on the wooden table. "Twitty!" My mother shouts. I look up quickly. "What the hell is this?" She asked as she stomped down the steps. I glanced at the kitchen doorway. I could see my father leaning back in his chair trying to see what she was on about. Her fingertips smack my face to look at her. There she held a half full bottle of whiskey. "What is this!? Huh!? You wanna explain yourself!? Or are you just going to blame it on your baby sister!" She wiggled the bottle back and forth back and forth. I had no idea where it came from. I gulped. "I...it's..mine" I watched her jaw clench at my words. "You think it's cool!? Huh!? You think it's cool to steal! To drink at the age of 13!?" Her voice got meaner, her voice got louder. "I'm..I'm 14.." I whispered anxiously. She stepped closer with a mean snarky look. She raised her hand then smacked me in the mouth. I held my mouth as he ring caught my lip. I waited for my father to bud in. He never did. "Finish it" she says handing me the bottle. She twisted the cap then flung it off. I stared at her. "Finish it!" I shook my head "no...no thank you" I say stepping back. She shoved the bottle into my cold shaky hands. "I found it in your bathroom! You Drink it!!!" She screamed. I began to devour the bottle. I squeezed my eyes shut at the painful burn and the nausea brought upon my throat. I pulled it away gasping for hair. "Keep going. Do. Not. Stop. You will stop when I tell you to stop you hear me?' she said loudly in my ear. Without a response I continue to suck down the bottle. I can feel my throat closing up. I was ready to vomit. I began to gag in the bottle. "Evelyn" my father sighed as he leaned on the doorway. She held up her hand stopping him from talking so she could enjoy me suffering. I got close to the bottom of the bottle until I couldn't hold my own anymore. I released my stomach onto the floor, in a long pool of liquor and supper, along with reddish streams of what looked like blood. I cried loudly as my throat swelled up twice the size making it hard to breathe. "God. You're such a fucking pussy Twitty! You're a pussy!" She yanked hair back to look at her. "You think you'll get anywhere Twitty!? Huh!? I'm trying to raise you to be a real woman! All you've shown me is you love to steal and you love to lie. Wanna know where you'll end up Twitty!? Hm!?-" I stared at her in fear as I released sad sick sobs from my throat. "You're gonna end up at the bottom of some poor man's shoe! Being beaten and spit on every day of your fucking life! You think you'll be loved Twitty!? Hm!? You think you'll be loved!? Cared for by a real great cowboy like your father? Ha!" She cackled in my face then shoved me to the ground. "You'll be as worthless as the puddle you're sitting in if you keep being the way you are" she mumbled. "Clean this shit up!" She slammed the door behind her leaving me and my father again. I cried very hard yet very quietly to myself. My hands were so numb I couldnt figure out of to clean up the vomit. My father stood in front of me. "Get upstairs and clean up. I'll take care of this..." He says gently. I stood up slowly watching his demeanor. "I ain't gonna hurt you Twitty girl. Go on upstairs" I stood up watching my back. I was so scared I ran quick.