Lost My Junk Again

Uh, let me explain..

*This story contains strong language, mentions of abuse and sexual nature, please be advised*

"Dad! You can't make me do this! It's unethical!" I pleaded.

"Indie, you're being over the top. It's not unethical, it's life. Plus you're not even making sense." My dad argues sternly, heaving the last box into the u-haul.

"You REALLY expect me to go to a shithole school in a shithole town and NOT lose my mind?!"

I couldn't believe him right now. Go about his business, packing up and ditching our life in Seattle so casually. A new school?! What about my friends? I don't have any but if I did, how could he do this?!He's insane.

My dad, finally turns to face me. I can see the desperate look in his eyes. A begging stare for me to drop it and understand.

"Look. I know it's nothing you've ever dealt with before, neither have I. We're conquering it together, like we always do. Wichita won't be that bad. It's just...different."

I can plainly see he's avoiding the subject that needs attention.

"You know..it's different for us now. Your Mom..Well. Her leaving was for the best, and I hope you can see that. Supporting you by myself now means changes are needed. This new job will do both of us good. Just get in the truck and try to be on my side for once?"

Disbelief. That's what I feel. Had I known he wouldn't be his typical coward self, I would've kept arguing. Yet, he finally spoke about Mom. I mean shit, he even spoke lovingly. Dad can't handle emotions. Probably one of the reasons Mom would go on rampages. Throwing objects or even herself on the floor in desperate attempts to bring a single emotion out of him. It's not that I don't think he feels them, I think he doesn't want to. Mom hated that. Constantly staring daggers to provoke him, drinking relentlessly and putting herself in dangerous situations. Throughout all her nonsense, Dad and I have always stuck together. I'll admit that Mom knew how to corrupt my head. It instilled a fear of disagreeing, of believing she wasn't in the wrong. With that fear, I had no choice but to side with her and nod to her every word. If I dared to speak against her, well..it got ugly. Dad has patched up enough cuts and treated plenty of bleeds to know that I had no choice but to feed into her delusions. Yet I can sense there's still a bit of sting that lingered with each instance. Never mind that though..I guess I need to get in the truck.

I let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the ground.

"Fine. But don't think for even a second that I won't complain when we get there."

He rolls his eyes and I roll mine. I hop into the passenger seat and dread the insidiously long drive ahead. Dad put the keys in the ignition, the engine fires up and we begin our journey. I cant help but stare out the window, I know this is really happening but I refuse to believe it isn't a nightmare. All i can do is put my headphones on and drown out the paranoia of what can come out of this situation.

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