In The End

6: That's Nothing New

   This has to be a dream, right? None of this is real? I know! Maybe I'm in Oz! Because, there's no way that this is real. There's no way he's standing there, not even two feet in front of me. It's not real.

Right?

   But it must be, because nobody else would get it this close. No one could re create the fire in his hazel eyes, the eyes twin to my own, or the sandy loner hair still slicked into perfection, even without hair gel. Nobody could recreate my father, sitting in the white love seat couch in front of me, looking at me with all of the vilest souls in hell. Nobody.
      Dad stands up, slowly walking toward me, and I all but fling myself towards the door, not taking my hands off him as I feel for the handle. When I finally get it and open the door, Mom shuts it. "Bladen, stop, it's okay, I called him." I cringe, before staring at her in betrayal. First off never calls me Bladen. Second, Why the hell would she do that?! What is wrong with her? She looks so elated! Don't tell me she's fallen for his bull shit!
Dad says in a monotone voice, "you both are coming home."
"To hell with that," I snarl, while Mom says, "of course." I glare at her, and to my surprise she glares back with the same amount of fire.
"Wow," I start, looking at her in disgust. "You're really so whipped, you can't even recognize the monster under his skin."
"That's enough out of you," Dad snarls, taking a menacing step in my direction. I whimper, pushing myself further towards the door. For all I know, he could hit me here and now. He's probably crazy enough to hit me in public. Besides, even if someone sees him, he could easily use his money he gets from being a highly demanded lawyer to buy his way out of any situation. "Did you really think you'd get away with leaving like that? It was stupid and naïve. There will be consequences." I shiver at the glint he had in his eye when he said that, but I leave it be. Why make it worse if I know I'm gonna die? Actually, on second thought...
    "So what're you gonna do, huh? Hit me? That's nothing new." If I'm gonna die, might as well piss him off for the fun of it, right?
   "Quiet," he hisses, and Mom shoots me a warning look.
   "Listen to your father, Blade," she chides, and I look at her in disbelief.
  "'Listen to my father!?' Are you kidding me?! He's the one we ran from!" I screech at her. Dad grabs my shoulder and squeezes it hard in a warning, but I don't care now. All I want to do is cry.
   Dad leads us out of the hotel, and hops into his silver Porsche, motioning for us to get in. Mom practically skips to the passenger seat while I stand there for a moment. Slowly, walk to my Impala. He honks at me.
   "Where do you think you're going?" Dad's voice booms. I turn and glare, meeting one just as fierce.
  "I'll follow you." He laughs drily.
  "The hell you will!"
  "I'm not leaving my car here!" I shout, anger boiling in my blood.
  "With your little stunt, you don't have a car!"
  "Did you save up over ten thousand dollars, mind you that is five years of working multiple jobs, to buy this car?!"
  "I don't need to, it's mine while you live under my roof."
  "In case you didn't get the memo, Dad, I DON'T WANT TO LIVE UNDER YOUR ROOF! THAT'S WHY I LEFT!" By now, Dad has left Mom in the car to come confront me. He slaps me across the face, but we're almost nose to nose, or in my case, nose to chest, since I'm having to look up at him, and nobody could've seen him slap me. Not even Mom, who surely would've stopped him. We've both been through enough abide together than to go back to it now.
   "Listen here, you little punk, you're coming home. I don't care if I have to beat you black and blue and drag you by the hair, you are walking through my front door, and you will not go anywhere until I say." I glare and shove him away, walking to the driver's side of my Impala and getting in, slamming the door closed.
I watch Dad's back muscles tense and his shoulders move in sync with his heaving breath. I've really pissed him off. But why stop here?
   I decide to really push it by honking at him, which is probably the worst thing I could've ever done. He spins towards my car with wild eyes. He quickly stumbled to his Porsche, passes Mom the keys, before stalking quickly to my car. Oh shit. Why did I think pissing him off would be a grand idea?
I try to quickly lock my doors, but he's at the driver's side before I can say anything. He rips the door open and grabs me by the hair, yanking me out. I let out a scream and his fist practically lifts me off the floor by my hair. Mom stumbles out of the car and gasps, but doesn't say anything as Dad throws me to the floor. As he kicks my stomach, once, twice, three times, four, Mom winces.
  He grabs my hair and slams my head to the floor, earning him a blood curling scream. He continues to scream in my face, but I just try to shove his face away from mine, making sure to use my nails while I'm at it. Mom stays quiet, watching worriedly as I get the life beaten out of me.
   When he punches me in the face for the third time though, Mom shouts, "Jeff!!"
  He's just grabbing me by my hair again when he looks at her. "Natalie, go home."
  Mom locks eyes with me, and with pantomime, I plead for her to help her daughter. For her to call the police, for her to just do something! She starts to open her mouth, and takes a step towards me. Dads eyes flash at her sign of rebelling. "Natalie, GO!"
  Mom won't leave me here with him, she'll call the cops, or do something---hell, anything--to keep me safe. That's what parents are supposed to do, right?
      But my heart breaks when she looks away, and gets into his Porsche.
    The worst thing in the world? To watch my mom drive away, knowing she can hear me screaming her name.