The next day, it rained all day, nonstop. And as if my day couldn't get any better, I stayed in bed with a stomach ache. That morning when my dad noticed I haven't left yet, he came into my room drunk. I had no idea how he got in because I thought I locked the door before I went to bed.
"Don't you have school to go to," he said slurring his words together.
"I'm not going."
"Why?" he asked, his voice sounded angry.
"I don't feel good. Get out of my room!" I demanded raising my voice.
"Don't use that tone with me. This is my house. I'm paying the bills here," he said sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than me. "I can kick you out if I want to."
"Go ahead." I mumbled under my breath.
"What did you say?"
I rolled my eyes and turned away from him until he finally left. When he was gone, a wave of sickness came over me. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. It happened more that once, so I kept my door unlocked. When I thought the sickness was over, I soon fell into a dreamless sleep. But it felt like only a minute later that I was being woke up by someone banging on my bedroom door. The hammering was rattling the walls. "Tamara! Get your stupid a** up!" yelled my dad.
With my heart nearly pounding out of my chest wondering what was wrong, I quickly jumped out of bed and opened the door. "What? What's wrong?" I panicked.
"Why weren't you at school today," dad asked his face full of anger.
"I told you, I wasn't-"My words got cut off when my dad raised up his arm and swung full force, with a belt in his hand. It slapped me on the side of my face. The force of the blow didn't have me falling to the floor. What made me fall was the surprise that my own father would hit my like that after all these years. Still in shock, I didn't really know what happened until the leather belt whipped my face again. Where was the little girl who wasn't going to take crap from her dad? I reached for her, but she was no where to be found. Fear took over me as I yelled at him to stop while covering up my face.
He didn't.
Minutes later he left with this: "That'll teach you to not raise your voice at me again." I was laying on the floor curled up in a ball sobbing. "Stop all that crying!" he shouted.
When he was gone, I stayed on the floor and cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
When it was almost midnight and my dad was asleep, I thought of calling Felisha, but what would she think? If my dad woke up and found out I was trying to run away, he would probably kill me. To scareed to take that chance, I went to the bathroom and looked at the whelps on my arms and face. Two red whelps were on my right cheek and others on my arms and legs. It was definitely the wrong time to wear shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in. Seeing myself so banged up, made me want to cry more. All my imperfections were visible.
Turning the light off I went back to my room making sure the door was locked. I crawled back in bed not able to fall back asleep, because of the pain all over my body from being beaten and the nightmares of my father hitting me.
YOU ARE READING
Looking Back
Teen Fiction"... he will give beauty for ashes..." Isaiah 61:3 Tamara's mother left her at a young age making her live with her abusive father while growing up. With her dad always drunk angry, Tamara would volunteered at the town's public library just to stay...
