Life Over Safety

4:00 -

            Dad came in my room. He kept apologizing for Melissa and said that she just had a bad work day. I didn't care about any of that. I eventually got him to shut up about all of it.

            "Dad, just tell me where Marci is. Is she OK?"

He nodded quickly, "She's fine, in her room."

            "Did Melissa hurt her?"

            "You really should call her mom."

            "I really don't want to. What happened to Marci?!"

            "Nothing. She's fine."

I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to find a new question.

             "Dad. . . Why do you let her hurt you? Us?"

             His head tilted downward. He was brooding over my words. You know what I mean. We've both seen it before. Probably every time you or me asked him something complicated.

Dad finally looked up at me, eye to eye.

            "Atlas. Y-you know I love you, Marci, and Melissa very much -"

            "No! No, you're lying to yourself. Why?!''

Tears were running from my cheeks. He wouldn't answer.

            "You're weak," I sputtered, pushing him out of my room and closing the door in the process.

It was about an hour later when I heard what was seriously kind of terrifying.

            Melissa and dad were arguing in the living room downstairs. It was really loud. That's not uncommon around here, as you should know, but what surprised me most was that dad was raising his voice far higher than she could. He sounded like a bear looming over a lonely wolf.

            A couple of minutes passed. At that point, they were screaming. I could hear what they were saying pretty clearly.

            "I'm TIRED of this! Of YOU!" Dad bellowed.

            "Where are you gonna go?! HUH?! You have NOTHING without me!"

            "That's not true!"

            "Then what?! The kids?! You'd be broke within days! You're worthless!"

            It went on like that for a while. They got louder and louder until a deafening crash rang throughout the house, swallowing their sounds. Not deafening as in ear-splitting. As in an instant transformation from piercing noise into complete silence.

            And that's all that was left. Silence. I poked my head out the door. To my right, Marci was doing the same from her room. I motioned for her to stay put, moving away and taking each stair step slowly. In the living room, dad was laying face down on the couch. There was a blanket covering up to his shoulders. Melissa was sitting at the table in the dining room, a full glass of wine in her hand. Without looking at me, she calmly said, "Don't worry about your father. He's just sleeping. Leave him be for now and go back up to bed." I bent down to nudge him, but Melissa's neck twisted in my direction, "don't touch him!"

            "Um. . . OK," I replied stepping away from dad in fear that I would wake him and make her even more terrifying. "What was that noise? That crash?"

A dazed and mellow face blinked at me, "The lamp fell."

I looked over at the shelf, where a ceramic lamp usually rested. It wasn't there.

            "Mel- , Mom, what are we gonna eat for dinner?"

            "Hmm?" She mumbled, looking away and taking another sip, "I'll bring you something. "

            Marci joined me in my room. We waited for a while. Melissa came upstairs with two bowls of microwave soup and two bowls of ice cream. She seemed oddly cheerful, as if the other Melissa was replaced by a whole new woman. Even Marci noticed the difference.