What We Create

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jessie

My twin bed sat directly below the bedroom window. If I stretched my pale, thin arm, I could reach the edge of the drape with my fingertips. I caught it between my two fingers, and lifted it to view a red, gold and pink sky. I remembered it wasn't a school day, and the light indicated it was way too early for me to be awake. I snuggled gratefully into my blankets, but then wondered: why was I awake?

My mom screamed, and adrenaline whipped through my body. In one swift motion, I threw off my covers, swung my feet to the floor, and ran in my white, knee-length nightgown toward the commotion in the kitchen.

Brian, bare-chested and wearing gym shorts, stood at the other end of the dining room table. A thin line of blood ran down his chin. He used the back of his hand to wipe off the blood coming from his split bottom lip. Red finger-shaped marks marred his upper arm, and his blondish-brown hair was wet with sweat. He eyed our father warily. Dad stood at the other end of the dining room table, closest to me, with his jaw and fists clenched. Dad advanced toward Brian.

I charged Dad, and pushed him backward with all of my strength, and fear behind it. I inhaled the familiar scent of Jack Daniel's on his breath, and clothes.

"What are you doing? Leave him alone!"

My push made him take a few steps back to regain his footing. His furious gaze shifted from Brian to me. I met his glare with one of my own. The adrenaline pumped through my body with every heartbeat; my muscles tensed and twitched.

I heard a whimper, and noticed Mom tugging at the back of Dad's white T-shirt like a child. As if her tugs at his shirt would stop him. I rolled my eyes. She just stood there, doing nothing.

Like a snake strike, Dad's hand smacked the side of my head. Disoriented, I listened to the buzz in my ears. My hand cupped my head.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me," Dad yelled. His hand clamped down hard on my shoulder, and pushed me away. "Go to your room. This is between Brian and me."

As I took a step backward, Brian ran toward Dad and screamed, "Don't you touch her!" Brian's 6'2 frame rammed into Dad's slightly shorter one like an enraged bull. The sound of the impact reverberated with a dull thud. They tumbled into the living room.

"STOP!" Mom shrieked at the top of her lungs, her hands pressed against her head.

The mindless rage drained from Dad's face as he looked at her. He and Brian untangled themselves, watching each other carefully. Mom sobbed with her head in her hands. Dad reached for her, and pulled her into his embrace. I went over to Brian; we backed out of the kitchen, and into the hallway. We kept our eyes glued to our father like prey desperately trying to avoid a predator.

You never turn your back on a predator.