I remember waiting, for the right moment to speak. Like each time I see him, my head is full of thoughts that are screaming at me. To tell him how I am feeling and what I feel. They are the simple words to say but yet each time I hold them in. Why can't I just scream them out from the top of my lungs. " I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Says the thoughts in my head, and they won't shut the fuck up neither. I sit in the truck, anxious to get out of it and to be home. My head continues to scream all the words I want to speak out loud. But I am afraid to, say them. Although he deserves to hear the simple words "I hate you dad." I can't get them pass the inside of my head, and to my tongue and lungs of that I could scream them out, they only became unable to understand mumbles. Which no one hears except me. I keep pushing this hopeless feeling aside, by putting on my headphones to cover my eyes, and then my hoodie, so he does notice if I start silently crying on the ride home. I never do cry on the ride home, no I somehow I am able to hold my tears in until I get inside the house and into my room. I watch as he drives away. I whisper,
" goodbye dad." Then I wipe my eyes and then take a shower to get the smell of his house off of me. It's a gross smell, the smell of skunk and cheap air-fresher. But it's not skunk, I know that but I wish I didn't know that. Because that smell is the smell of pot, of weed, of the drug that he does. I don't believe what he told me when he first smoked it in front of me, I remember it smelt horrid and that I was getting a headache, from the air. Although I was covering my nose with my sweat shirt selvee. As he spoke I just listened to him, saying." I smoke it, because its my mediation baby, because their are days where I can't get out of bed because of my leg hurting so bad.." Crying I didn't know what to believe at the time, all I knew that what he was doing was illegal, and that I didn't like that I was around him while he was doing this. I thought of my sister and brother how if he got caught, what would I tell them. I begin to worry while I was with my father. I didn't feel safe at all, if I spent the night I would wake up and walk into where my brother was sleeping and lay with him. My sister was on a bunk above him. I'd lay there instead of the sofa. I'd lay there awake until I simply passed out. But my dreams weren't comforting neither . I had dreams of people hurting my brother, and sister and I. Because of my dad owning money for pot. I'd have these dreams the night before I went to his house. Then a few years later, my dad was bring us to his house, he had turned into the gas station to meet some car that was in the parking lot. When we missed the turn into the gas station and went into the ditch I was in the front sit of the vechaile, my sibling where in the back. I watched as the car, I was in rolled into the ditch, I kept screaming over and over again. Then the air bag popped and whatever was in my hand popped as well. Then I saw red stuff, and started screaming more, I was crying. I was so panicked I thought it was my sister or brothers blood, I still couldn't hear anything except for the sound of my ears popping and the sound of the high pitched white static noise. I couldn't feel my hand it hurt like hell, I was holding it to my chest, refusing to let my dad touch me, because he had told me to shut up. He acted like that hadn't just happened. I sat in the car refusing to move that was till I could hear my brother and sister crying. But they where ok, so was my dad but I wasn't. I hated that he was unharmed and I wasn't. I hated it so much because, the reason he was even pulling into the gas station where that car was at, was because he was doing a drug by with a buddy of his, it was because of his selfish needs. They where the ones who drove us the rest of the way to my dads but I would have rather fucking walked the rest of the way. It was only across the road but no, my dad made me get in there truck. Soon as they dropped of I ran into the house and but my Hand under the water it was red, like as if it was sunburned. I remember screaming for my sister to find my step mother. We couldn't find her, but she happened to come up stairs, asking why we where yelling. I begin to cry and my sister said I think her hand is broken. My dad still outside, more then likely buying pot off his friend. My step mom, was calling my mom saying that I need to go to the emergency room, then my father came into the house, and my step mom, yelling at him. " you idiot! Why didn't you check her hand!..." I sat there angry and scared crying, waiting for my mom. When she got me, my dad told her that I had to say that we hit a deer. Cause they might do a drug test on him. Meaning I had to lie. Soon as we left, that drive way, I said I hate him underneath my breath.
