The Boy in the Window

Prologue

Hi everybody, I've just started to write this book, so tell me if you like it :) Thank you 

PROLOGUE

It hurts when someone you love is taken away from you even if it is your abusive stepfather that you consider your own dad. But to be perfectly honest he brought it upon himself, that night he had taken it too far. After he backhanded me for mumbling at him, Danny had flung himself at my father to stop him from continuing the abuse. Of course my dad, being the fully-grown adult, pulverized my older brother, throwing him into the glass cabinet holding mums liquor, momentarily waking her up.

My mother, Lia Smith, was a sweet, young mother, who had been kicked out of her home after getting knocked up for the second time with me at age seventeen. It’s really not her fault that she had dicks as boyfriends, she just makes really bad decisions when choosing men. When Danny’s and my biological father, Angus Barren ditched Lia after finding out that Danny and I were his, my mum went through two jerks and then landed with John Swanson, the abusive boyfriend who forced her to drink, later becoming her husband after the drunk wedding night in Vegas that neither of them can remember.

My mother looked around the room, seeing the broken glass and furniture. Then dad did something new. He threw the T.V. remote at her head. It flew straight and hit her hard. She blacked out then either from the alcohol or the remote, I will never know, its not like she talks about it.

My brother was groaning and I prayed to god that he wasn’t hurt to bad. Dad didn’t seem to notice my brother but I hadn’t seemed to notice my dad as he came from behind me, a menacing grin marking his face.

My father picked me up, while I screamed, kicked and punched out at him. He threw mum off the couch and chucked me onto it. I felt around for anything I could hit him with but my hand come up empty. He yanked off his belt and hit me a few times, whilst I tried to curl up into a protective ball. He then climbed on top of me fumbling with his jeans; I could smell the brandy on his breath. I couldn’t breathe he was squashing the air out of my lunges but I was still wiggling around trying to stop him from crossing that line. My hands reached out again for anything, and I almost cried in delight when I felt a glass bottle, I picked it up by the nozzle and, with all my eight-year-old strength, swung.

The bottle connected with his head and he dropped like a dog, unfortunately he was still on top of me so I got his whole body weight tumbling down. I squirmed my way out but this awoke him and he tried to get up. Still holding the bottle, I smashed it down on his head for the second time that night. He was out cold, glass strewn around him.

Everything was quiet I couldn’t even hear a cricket, and this is when I first took in my surroundings. Almost all of the furniture had been destroyed except for the mangy, velvet couch my father laid on. This room wreaked havoc and this should have shocked me, and it did, but not as much as the two pairs of eyes I saw staring up at me while I stood there; Mum and Danny were looking at me completely and utterly shell-shocked. I looked down ashamed at what had happened, my pants were down to my knees and only then did I realize how close my stepfather had been. I fell to my knees at that point, not caring who saw me as weak. My brother crawled over to me, and pulled me onto his lap where I cried freely. Then I heard my mum in the background trying to do the same.

I stopped bawling a few minutes after my mum had put her arms around me, I knew they were hurt badly and were trying their best not to show it while they comforted me. But I didn’t need comforting, because to be comforted was to be reminded of the horrors that happened all of ten minutes ago. I started to get up when my mother pulled on my arm with a pained look on her face,

“I’m so sorry darling I should of-”

“Shh mummy,” I said leaning down to kiss her fore head, “Its not your fault.”

“But-” she began

“No mum, no buts,” I said smiling, “nothing happened. I’m fine but you two are not so I’m going to call the ambulance and the police and we aren’t going to talk about what happened again. I told you I’m fine.” I added quickly noticing her stubborn face was on. My mum might be a sweet darling but once she wants something she will stop at nothing to get it.

I picked that moment to grab the phone and ran into the kitchen. I dialed triple ‘0’ and waited for them to pick up. As I did, I noticed a few of our nosey neighbors trying to slyly get a glimpse of what happens behind the doors of our household. I wave at them, and all but one of our fellow gossipers turn away embarrassed at being caught. I smile up at Tommy, Danny’s best friend and the little boy who looked out his window at me with not fear but relief. He smiled back and waved.

“Hello? Hello!?” The police say through the phone bringing me back to reality.

“Oh hi,” I say clumsily moving away from the window.

“This better not be a prank kiddo” he said irritated

“No sir, sorry sir. Could I please have an ambulance and the police come to 38 Alexandria Rd Queenstan. My father hit my mum on the head with the TV remote and threw my brother into a glass cabinet.” They didn’t need the details, I told myself.

There was silence on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Sir?” I said thinking the connection must have dropped.

“Oh no, I’m still here child. We will be right there. What was your address again?”

After repeating my address and saying goodbye, I put the phone back and went into the ‘good room’, which at the state of it right now was anything but good.

My mum and brother looked up from their spot on the floor and my mum opened her arms so I could climb into them. I did this with gratitude, promptly falling asleep while she cooed down at me.

*****

Ten minutes after my call to the police, they showed up with an ambulance, which had our neighbors squealing in excitement over their newest teatime topic. They checked my father first, and then handcuffed him, so he wouldn’t run. They swiftly moved over to Danny and Lia after that, while I recounted the story of my stepdad to the police leaving out the parts that they didn’t need to know. They wrote notes on the story and hugged me when I was done. I flinched when they did and looked at my brother, understanding and worry written all over his face.

So my name is Sarah Smith. I was eight years old when this happened. I have a brother that is really annoying at times but I know he’ll always be around for me if I needed him, and a loving mother who, after that horrific night quit drinking to raise us kids in a new neighborhood, in a new city. My stepfather, John Swanson was put into jail for eight years for abuse and drug dealing. My mum tried to get me to go to counseling, but I refused, keeping the ordeals of that night behind locked doors in the very back of my memory. My family, consisting of Danny, mum and me decided it be best for us if we started anew. So mum got a job somewhere far away and we packed our stuff and moved it on out. Danny said goodbye to Tommy, with tears in both their eyes – but he would never admit to that. He was upset for a while but I quickly cheered him up, making him laugh while driving ten hours to our new house.

Like I said, it hurts when some one you love like a father is taken away from you, even if he hurt you badly first.

Thanks for reading it, comment and tell me if you liked it and any advise is welcome :)