The Scars Within

The Fight

Around lunchtime, I decided to head back downstairs. Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, my Dad came through the front door. 'Ugh. Great. Perfect timing self. Couldn't have been a few minutes earlier or later. Had to be now.' Sighing, I continue my mission to the kitchen for some food.

"Carmin? Can you hold on for a second?" Sighing once again, I wait for him to come near me. I can see that he feels uncomfortable by the way he won't look into my eyes, and he keeps shifting around. "I finished up the arrangements for Mom's funeral. It's going to be next Saturday." Nodding, I make a move towards the kitchen once again. Dad follows. "Bub, please talk to me. I know that when I left we weren't on the best of terms but-"

I cut him off. "The best of terms? Dad, you practically said I killed Mom! You didn't believe me at all and I'm your own daughter! You believed the rumors of people who I don't even know over what I knew and still know is a fact! What kind of Father does that?"

"Carmin, don't start with me. I'm not in the mood for this right now."

"Don't start with you? You're the one who brought it up! Now you suddenly don't want to talk about it? What happened to 'Say something Carmin?'" I yell.

"Watch your tone Carmin! I am your Father and you will treat me with respect! I am trying to have a civil conversation with you and you start throwing a tantrum like a spoiled little brat!" By this time, we're in each other's faces and screaming.

"A spoiled brat? You're the one who made me throw this 'tantrum' as you call it! I was simply stating what you're too much of a coward to! We weren't on the best of terms because you didn't believe me when I was trying to tell you the truth. If you didn't care so much about your image and your job then maybe you would be able to see what I'm going through right now! Open your eyes and man up!" Before I can continue, I'm cut off by a sharp pain in my cheek. 'Did he just...'

"Don't you dare talk to me like that Carmin! Just because you can't seem to handle the fact that your Mother is dead doesn't mean that you have the right to start bossing people around. Either you calm down and start acting like an adult or there will be consequences, Carmin." Holding my hand to my swelling cheek, I look at my 'Dad', tears quickly filling my eyes and blurring my vision.

"I hate you..." I whisper.

"What was that?" Dad growls out.

"I HATE YOU! You're not my Father! My Dad wouldn't hit me or tell me that I need to grow up! He would comfort me when I needed him and would actually believe me when I tell him things! I hate you!" Turning on my heel, I sprint back upstairs to my room, lunch long forgotten.

After getting inside my room, I slam the door shut and lock it. Jumping onto my bed, I bury my head in a pillow and start sobbing. Outside the door, I can hear my Dad stomping up the stairs and stopping in front of my room. After he tries the doorknob, he starts yelling through the door.

"Open this door right now young lady! This conversation is not over!"

"This 'conversation' was over the moment you decided to hit me Dad!" I don't have anything else to say to you." After pounding on the door for a few minutes, he finally walked back downstairs. Staying silent, I listen as he stomps around for a few minutes, then the front door opening and slamming shut. Moments later I hear the car start, and pull out of the drive heading down the street. 'At least I can finally get some food. I'm not really hungry now though.' Wiping my eyes, I stand up from my bed and, after making sure the coast is clear, head downstairs.

Once I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, I see that there's a note on the kitchen table. Picking it up, I see it's from Dad. 'Of course it's from him! Who else would it be from? Santa? Good job self.'

Don't think that we're done talking about this. I have a few things to do at work but once I get home we are going to talk.

Dad

Great. Just what I need. Sighing for what feels like the millionth time today, I open the fridge. Grabbing some grape jelly, I walk over to the cabinet and grab the peanut butter and bread to make a sandwich. After I finish making my food, I head into the living room to watch a bit of TV. I end up spending about 15 minutes of my life flipping through all the channels. 'Over 300 channels that we pay $80 a month for and nothing good is on.' Finally, I decide to just go back up to my room. Placing the paper plate and crumbs from my sandwich into the garbage, I turn to leave the kitchen when I notice the dishes still aren't done. 'Seriously?'

Grumbling the whole way, I walk over to the sink. Rolling up my sleeves, I start on the dishes. Since there weren't as many dishes as I thought there was, it only takes about 20 minutes to get all of them washed. While I was drying off my hands, I heard a knock at the door. 'I wonder who that is. I just saw Ricca not that long ago, so it shouldn't be her. I'm pretty sure I didn't leave anything at her place. Dad has his keys with him since he took the car as well. Plus, Dad wouldn't leave home if he knew someone was coming over. I don't know. I should probably see who it is instead of trying to guess.' As I think this, I make my way towards the front door.

Before I open the door, I decide to take a peek through the peephole. Gotta make sure they aren't a murderer or someone asking if I've 'Spoken to God lately', am I right? Looking through the peephole, I see something that I never expected to see at my front door.