Chapter 2
When we pulled out of the parking lot, my wrist was still in complete pain. I wouldn’t dare ask for pain killers though. I was used to it. I deserved it; I talked back to him after all. My dad on the other hand, already had a beer sitting open in the cup holder. This was going to be a long drive. I noticed my phone was still on ‘music only’ so I turned that off and my phone began vibrating like crazy. 16 messages, all from people who actually cared for me, my stomach dropped and I began to feel my eyes swell. I quickly pushed that away. I read them silently and my dad must have noticed my concentration, he took a swig of beer and snapped,
“Who the fuck, are you talking to?”
I glanced over at him, scared to say the wrong thing “Oh, I um - just some friends back home.” I spoke softly with a shrug.
My dad smirked “Friends? Ha. You didn’t have friend your little faggot. Nobody fucking cares about you. You little shit.”
I honestly didn’t know what to say back, so I just sat in silence, put my head phones back in and turned ‘music only’ back on and gazed out the car window. I saw a few birds flying; I wonder what it was like to fly. Sometimes I wish I was a bird so I could just fly away. I must have dozed off because next thing I know my dad is snatching my head phones out of my ear, snapping me out of my daze.
“I fucking called you twice boy!” I know you could hear me.” Through my sleepy eyes I could see we were parked in front of an amazingly, beautiful house. It could have almost been a fairy tale house. I guess I still wasn’t paying attention to my dad because he snatched me by my shirt collar bringing my nose to his and hissing, “Next time I call you; you better listen and acknowledge me Kellin. Do you understand?” I nodded quickly and muttered a ‘yes sir, I’m sorry’ before he let me go.
I jumped out of the car quickly fixing my shirt while scanning my surroundings. We were in a suburban neighborhood. All the houses were really big and extremely beautiful, but also quite close to each other. I wonder if my dad realized how loud he actually was when he would go on a screaming, drunk rampage. I was surprised my dad could afford this place though, being jobless and all. My dad snapped me out of my thoughts and back to reality – “No fairy tale here” I signed softly.
“Kellin, come the fuck here and help me unload this shit. The moving truck will be here any minute” he snipped.
“Yes sir” I spoke softly.
“I swear to fucking God boy, you make me want to….” He trailed off with a few huffs and puffs, as he unlocked and walked through the front door.
I grabbed a few small boxes and headed towards the same entrance. I stopped dead in my tracks and I think I died for a few seconds, when I suddenly noticed the house walls. They were completely made of concrete… No sound from inside would escape to the outside. No father beating son screams would invade the neighbor’s windows. As I slowly stepped inside, I instantly noticed the new paint smell. Honestly, the house itself was quite gorgeous, amazing high ceilings and perfect trim work around each turn. Anxiety and panic shot through my chest when I noticed the stairs though. When my dad would hit me sometimes, it would make it really hard to climb steps. I silently made my way up the vicious stairs and found a room that was simply stunning. The windows had an splendid view of the entire neighborhood and a window seat inserted into the wall, sort of like a cubby hole. I know I’d spend most of my time here. My dad’s room, (thankfully) was down stairs at the other end of the house. I laid the boxes down and made my way into the hall to find the bathroom right across from my room. Then down a bit more was another room. A guest room I would have to assume, even though it’s doubtful we would have guests.
