Safe

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

*Flashback*

Niall's POV

The air is cold on a dim September night in Ireland. Mullingar is quiet and there have been very few cars that have driven past the house. Tonight's not any different than any other night: dad is sitting in front of the tele with a beer in his hand, mum is downstairs watching her soap operas, and Greg is nowhere to be found. That seems to be happening a lot these days. I sit at the kitchen table and tap the end of my pencil, nervously watching the door. Greg has been in a lot of trouble recently, and I hope he comes home tonight. 

I stare at my schoolwork on the table and try to focus. We're learning about Shakespeare now, but I have very little interest in it. The question on the paper asks something about identifying with one of the characters in the play "Romeo and Juliet", but my mind won't stop racing long enough for me to answer it. I set my pencil down and watch dad from the table. He's watching his usual nighttime game show, oblivious that me or my mum is here. 

I stand up from the table and make my way to the cabinet to retrieve a glass of water. I need a distraction, any distraction, to keep myself from going crazy waiting on Greg. As I pad across the floor, I can hear dad yelling at the TV.

"Not that one, you idiot! I swear, the most undeserving people get picked for these shows," He mumbles, and takes another swig of his beer.

Distracted by his outburst, I miscalculate the position of the glass in the cupboard. My hand swipes through, accidentally knocking down two of the glass cups. They fall seemingly in slow motion to the floor and shatter at my feet. I freeze. The glass is littered around me now, and I am unable to move. I feel my heart rate start to quicken. I listen for the sound of the TV, but there is none. I hear the sound of footsteps pounding across the floor and I move swiftly to retrieve the room to sweep up the mess I've made.

"Did you do this?" His voice booms through the kitchen as I hustle around with the broom in hand.

"I.. I.. I'm sorry. I'll clean it up." I quickly find the dustpan and fall to my knees, sweeping desperately to pick up the scattered shards of glass.

"What have I told you about being more careful with my things? How would you like it if I went and broke your things?" He's standing over me now, and my hands are shaking as I try to continue to clean up the mess. I find myself bracing for the hit that I know is coming.

"Stand up, boy." He orders. I know that the reprecussions of not obeying are far worse than any punishment I will recieve now. I learned that the hard way.

I slowly make my way to my feet, dust pan and broom still in hand. I face my father with fear in my eyes, and I wish I was brave enough to stand up to him. I wish I had it in me to finally make him stop pushing me around. I am bigger than him, and I know I could take him. But I don't have the guts. Instead, I stand cowardly in front of him waiting for my punishment.

As he raises his hand, I watch as the door behind him flies open and slams into the wall. My eyes widen as Greg stumbles in, clearly intoxicated or high, or maybe even both. I have already irritated my father tonight, and Greg coming home in this state again is not going to go over well. In a desperate attempt to take the attention off of Greg,  I remind my father that he was in the middle of punishing me. 

"We'll get to it later." He coldly states and stomps over to Greg, who is now leaning against the couch for support as he wobbles on his feet. "And what do you think you're doing, son?"

I watch the scene in front of me, unsure of how to proceed. My mother makes her way up the stairs at the sound of the chaos and stands next to me, watching. This has become our normal night in this household. I wait for dad to smack Greg, give him another black eye, and send him on his way to his room as usual. But tonight, Greg isn't having it. Greg has found the strength that I wish I had to stand up to our father.