Tidal Waves

Chapter 1

*smack*
I felt a sharp pain on my cheek as his hand made contact with my skin.

"You're such a disappointment. Can you ever do anything right?" he yelled, a bottle of whiskey hanging from his left hand. I fell to the ground, clutching the left side of my face, holding back tears. "Worthless piece of shit," he muttered and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut. I sat on the floor, shivering, and finally let the teardrops slip down my cheeks. I stood up and walked to my closet, throwing on the first hoodie I saw. I slowly walked to the door and pressed my ear against it, listening to sounds of my father lingering. Not hearing anything, I twisted the cool knob and walked outside.

The air was cold against my hot cheeks. I welcomed the brisk breeze, and took a shaky breath in. My lip trembled, as I thought of his rough hands against my body, pushing me into the wall and to the floor. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, pulled up my hood, and shoved my hands in my jean pockets. I walked with my head down, refusing to let anyone see my tear stained face and bloodshot eyes. I could already feel the discoloration appearing on my face, leaving a blue and purple hand print in its place. I looked up for a second, to see where I was. I noticed a small café down the street. The sign hanging from the top of the building was broken and barely holding on, and the windows were dusty. The lights were on inside, so I decided to push open the stain glass door and sit at the small table in the corner.

Suddenly, there was another person standing next to the table. I looked at the person's feet and noticed they were wearing beat up combat boots and fishnet tights. I looked up to see the persons face, and noticed her baby blue eyes were rimmed with thick coal black eyeliner and she wore a dark maroon lipstick. Her blonde strands ended in a bright blue dye, and her teeth were straight and white.

"Can I get you something to drink?" her teeth glinted off the dim lighting when she asked this. She had a notepad in her right hand, and a purple pen in her left, waiting for my answer.

"Anything good?" I strained a small smile.

"Well, Mama Q makes some pretty mean hot chocolate, if ya'd like that," she winked, still smiling.

"Sounds great," I chuckled at her positive attitude. She scribbled something down on the notepad and practically skipped to the back of the café. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and turned it on. When the screen lit up, I noticed I had one message from my brother, and none from my dad. Figures. I opened the message from my older brother, reading the words on the LED screen.

'call me?'  It read. I clicked on his name and pushed the dial button, waiting to hear the ringing coming from the speaker.

"Hey Nugget, how's it going?" Foster's voice flooded my ears.

"Same as always, I suppose."

"Let me guess, you're fine, you're always fine?" I could tell he was rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone.

"Well, it's true," I said defensively.

"No, it's bullshit. You're lying to me and yourself. You know I'm here for you, and if you don't tell me anything, how can I help you?" I knew he was right, but he didn't understand. Dad didn't start getting angry until after Mom died, and by that time, Foster had already left for college.

"It's just not the same without you and Mom," my voice cracked and I let a tear slip down my cheek.

"Don't cry, Em. I'm not trying to make you upset, but it bothers me that you don't tell me anything," I could hear the sadness in the tone of his voice.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to burden you with my problems."

"Who said you'd be bothering me?" he sighed.

"I just did." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say. Look, Natalee just got here. I'll call you tomorrow?" he asked.

"It's a date."

"Goodbye, Nugget."

"Goodnight, Foster. I love you."

"I love you, Emalyn. Nat says she loves and misses you."

"Tell her I love and miss her too."

"I will," he said. Then hung up the phone. I sat there staring at the dim screen, wishing I could tell him about what's been happening since he left. The first day my dad hit me was the day after my mother's funeral. He came home from the bar at around 3 in the morning, stumbling and barely able to stand. He started yelling at me, calling me my mother's name, and crying. I tried hugging him, and he pushed me away, slamming me into the iron railing on the stairs. He got really close to me, spitting as he spoke. Cursing me for leaving him, believing I was my mother's ghost. Then he hit me. His fist came into contact with my cheekbone, his wedding ring cutting into my skin, earning me three stitches and a million questioning faces passing by in the hallways at school.

I was broke from my trance by the bubbly waitress bringing me the cup of hot chocolate I had ordered.

"Got a lot on your mind?" she questioned as she set the steaming cup in front of me.

"I guess you could say that," I tried to muster up a smile.

"Oh honey, don't pretend you're alright if you're not. Trust me, I used to hold everything in too." She sat down across from me. "My name's Maya. What's yours?"

"Emalyn."

"A pretty name to match a pretty face," she winked. I rolled, chuckling at her comment.

"How old are you?" I asked. She looked to be high school, like me.

"I'm a senior at West High, how about you?"

"I'm a senior at East Campus."

"Really? I've never seen you around," she looked surprised.

"I've gone there as long as I can remember."

"Well that's strange. It may be a little forward, but can I ask for your number? It looks like we could both use a friend right now." she smiled. I smiled in return and slid my phone across the table, letting her type in her number and text herself.

"I guess I'll see you around then?" I said, and set some money on the table.

"Of course," she winked at me again. I just smiled and pushed the heavy door open. I walked into the chilled November air, and pulled my hood up again. I didn't know exactly where I was, but I was in no hurry to get home, so I just wandered in the direction I came from, hoping it would lead me somewhere I recognized.

After about an hour of walking I found myself back on my front porch. I stood there apprehensively, trying to decide if it was a good time to walk inside. I reached for the knob, twisted it slowly and stepped inside. I could hear the tv blaring from my dad's room. I tiptoed up the stairs, and quietly shut my bedroom door. I pulled off my jeans and hoodie, and slipped on an oversized t-shirt. I sat on my bed and pulled out my laptop. The screen lit up and I pulled up pandora, turning it to a random station and put it to the side of my desk. Then I rolled over and pulled my covers up to my chin, drifting into a deep sleep.