The Scars Within

Things Get Worse

Dad never came back on Sunday. He wasn't even there when I went to school on Monday morning. Was I worried? Of course I was. I mean, if something happened to him, I don't know how I would deal with it. The last words I would have said to him would be 'I hate you.' Isn't that a nice thing to have on your conscience? School wasn't making me feel any better. Instead of insults, they've resorted to physical abuse. Nothing really major I guess, but it still hurts. Being pushed into lockers, having your books slapped out of your hands between every class, and people always roughly bumping into you tends to make a person fed up with school very quickly.

This sort of thing continued on for months. My Dad was home when I got back from school that Monday, but I hardly ever see him. He's always gone during the day and comes back in the odd hours of the night or early morning. When I do see him, he looks like a wreck, and gets worse everyday. His hair is extremely greasy, I'm pretty sure he hasn't shaved these past few months, smells of absolutely horrid B.O., and his eyes are always bloodshot. I'm pretty sure he's resorted to drinking now as well. I always find random, sometimes empty, bottles of liquor around the house. To add on top of dealing with a now alcoholic father, the abuse at school has gotten worse. Even the teachers are in on it now! They don't help with the attacks, but they don't do anything to stop them. They also tease me in class and laugh when other students make jokes about me. Plus I haven't heard anything from Officer Gale. Not a word. That never means good news.

I still have Ricca though. She's the one thing I can look forward to these days. Ricca has become my rock, even though she doesn't know it. I haven't been able to tell her about everything that's going on. I just... I guess I don't want her to worry about me. She's having a great time at school and I don't want to ruin it for her. She's become like my sister, and we tell each other about anything and everything. We've had a few more sleepovers as well, but they've always been at her place. I don't want to risk her seeing my Dad or the liquor bottles. I'm pretty sure her brother still hates me though. I mean, he doesn't even acknowledge my existence when I'm over at their house. Ricca said not to worry about it, but it still bugs me. I never did anything to him, so why is he so rude? Quentin and Adeline have practically adopted me into the family, which is highly entertaining. They're always making jokes with me, telling me about how Ricca and Abel acted while they were younger (Much to Ricca and Abel's displeasure), and have basically been acting more like my parents than my actual parents did for the last few years. They even came to my Mom's funeral. I told them that they didn't have to, but they insisted they be there to comfort me. I felt like I had an actual family again. I was happy. Yes, there were bullies at school and my alcoholic Father to deal with, but I felt like I could make it through those as long as I had Ricca and her family by my side. But, as always, just when things starts looking up, Life decides to throw in a curve ball to send everything back into a downward spiral.

I guess I could say it started on the Saturday that started Christmas break. I was just going to relax for a few days. There were about four tests that week at school, and I was tired from late nights of studying. I was downstairs, laying on the couch when my Dad came stumbling downstairs. Since I was up fairly early, it didn't surprise me to see him up and about. What I didn't expect him to do was to come over to the couch I was laying on, grab my arm, and yank me to my feet.

"You little bitch. You caused all this! If your Mother hadn't spoiled you rotten then maybe you would be an acceptable child! Because of you, I haven't had an actual case in months! Why couldn't you have just accepted your life as it is? We were getting divorced and that was final. Apparently you didn't like that though. Decided to do something about it, eh? Did you honestly think that you could get away with killing your Mother? I'm a LAWYER you little skank. Don't think I'm going to represent you when your ass gets arrested. I don't want anything to do with you, you useless waste of space!" With that said, he pushed me down to the floor. Just as I was getting up, he kicked me in the abdomen. The pain was almost unbearable, but he wasn't done. He grabbed me by my hair, pulled me back to my feet, then proceeded to slap me. "It was a mistake to ever have a child. Maybe you should listen to some of your classmates and just leave." With that said, he dropped me back to the floor, and left the house.

After the shock wore off, I slowly stood up, clutching my abdomen. Once I was able to stand up straight, I almost wished I hadn't. The pain coursing through my body multiplied ten fold at the new position, and I almost collapsed back to the floor. Eventually, I was able to stumble down the hall and into the downstairs bathroom. After I grabbed the First-Aid Kit out of the cabinet under the sink, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and lifted my shirt. Even though it only happened a couple minutes prior, a large bruise was already forming on my abdomen. With tears in my eyes, I grabbed a roll of wrap and slowly wound it around my abdomen. After using the small clip to keep it in place, I put the kit back, and slowly made my way to the kitchen. Once I reached the fridge, I opened the freezer and grabbed two large ice packs. After finally making my way back to the couch, I slowly laid down and pressed the ice packs to my abdomen and the side of my face. Once I'm settled in, I notice that there are tears streaming down my cheeks.

"What the hell was that for? Does he seriously think that I killed her? Why does no one believe me?" Wiping my eyes, I try, unsuccessfully, to stop the tears. "Why did you have to go Mom? You're the one who would always take my side, no matter what. So why was it you who had to go?" Sighing, I lay on the couch for what feels like hours before my abdomen finally stops hurting. 'Well, it seems like my life has officially been thrown into the gutter and dragged around for a while.' Slowly, I sit up and take the ice packs off my face and stomach. As I stand up, I let out a small groan of pain. It doesn't hurt as much as it did before, but it still stings. After I shuffled to the kitchen I put the ice packs back into the freezer. Then, after stopping to wait out a wave of pain, I had a small breakfast. Once that was finished and the dishes were in the sink, I went back upstairs to my room. I think I deserve to sleep until 1:00 after all of that.