I let her down back onto the concrete. Wow, she's really pretty, and light. We started walking, probably back to our own homes. Down the sidewalk, we stop at a playground and she sits down in a swing, so I push her. She squeals when she goes to high. We laugh and scream until our sides hurt and its dusk.
"We gotta go home, my mom'll kill me if I'm not home by night, and you folks are probably worrying about you by now. My mom has been blowing up my phone wanting to know where I am." At the mention of my mom I wince. She died not even a year ago. Well its not exactly my directed at my mom, but still, it hurts. She sees me wince and gives me a worried look.
"My mom died back in April. My dad's not at home as often and when he is it's like he's not." My dad drinks a lot and he works as a mechanic in the next town over, which isn't that far away because I live in a bigish city, we have a mall, Walmart, McDonalds, taco bell, and a whole lot of other restaurants I can't name because I don't go to them. We also have a movie theatre. But other than that it's all work buildings and houses.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know!" She looks a bit stunned.
We turn and walk away from the park and to our street. I know we live on the same street because I live two houses away on the other side of the street. I used to watch her play outside when my parents would fight about his, being gone so long and coming home late, and drunk. We finally get to her house, a small white, farm house with a tire swing and a pool out back. O walk her to her door and she hugs me, its warm, and soft, and probably the best thing ever to touch my torso. I wrap my arms around her.
"Goodnight." She turns and walks inside of the house.
I walk back to my house, my dad's home early. I walk inside and close the door, locking it behind me.
"Hello son." CRAP! My dad sure knows how to scare the heck out of someone.
"Um, hey... Dad." I try not to stutter.
"Where have you been?" He asks, not turning his attention away from the muted TV, drumming his fingers on the wooden side table.
"Out." I'm trying so hard not to sound guilty, but I can't help it. Every time he does this to me and when I do, he thinks I've done something wrong. It always ends up in punishment. Mostly a lowered curfew to be home earlier and a grounding.
"With?" He asks, and I don't want to tell him I've been with Meghan, or that I have a girlfriend at that. I stay silent. Big mistake.
"WITH!?" he yells at me. He stands up and walks over to me, before slapping me in the face. I stumble back, but he walks towards me again and looks me in the face, he's drunk.
"With who, Michael?" He asks me a little calmer now.
"With.... Um..... Friends." Yep, I'm screwed.
He punches me in the gut, making me fall to my knees, kicks me in the side of the head really hard. Its fuzzy, but I see something coming towards my face. It hits me hard. I stay conscious for a few seconds, my dad says something it's far away, I feel something sharp, but quick on my ribs, he's kicking me. The world is spinning. Soon there's nothing left to see but blackness and a sense of numbness.
