Freedom Beyond These Lips

Chapter 10: The Monster Continues To Take Over

Just when I thought my life was getting sewed up, and I was ready to close that part of my life out, the issue prevailed. Driving home, I pulled up to my step-father's apartment. Red and blue lights flashed, but no sound seemed to emit. I stepped out of the car, and walked over, my neighbor coming into view. I calmly asked her what had happened, and she responded with a frantic tone.

"That's your dad in the ambulance."

She cried, and my heart sank. I choked up on my words.

"You're kidding me." I responded, trying to keep a calm tone.

I looked over to barely make out his figure lying down with a wrap around his head. She pointed over to the concrete, lined with a fence and bushes lying in front. I stared at the scene, intaking everything - for what felt like a split second, and yet it felt like a year. Alex followed behind, standing by my side, listening in to the story. The concrete was covered in a velvet puddle. I looked over once more at him leaving to the hospital. My throat closed up even more.

The officer continued to tell me that my father  took an uber home, trying to be a responsible adult. On his way home, he stumbled an incredible length, and fell forward - sticking his hands out to brace himself, his head splitting against the metal, his finger sprained due to the impact.

The whole night I felt like it would be the last day I spoke to the only man who gave a crap about what happened to me, and truly understood why I couldn't come forward to the police because he had done the same thing. He was still in love with my mother, and everyone knew it - he just didn't display it within kisses, or physical affection. He displayed it with taking care of me. Although he wasn't there for me living with me? He constantly kept me in check.  He always made sure I did my homework when things got tough, he gave me money to make sure I had food in my system that wasn't just top ramen bought by food stamps. He made sure that I could be self-sufficient when I needed to.

Now I stared at this man lying in a hospital bed, still trying to force a smile out of me. His head wrapped started to unravel and slip off. He took one good hard look at me, and with the cheesiest smile said

"I feel like i'm Jewish."

Everyone in the room began bursting with laughter, trying to keep it at a certain volume level due to the fact we were in a trauma center, but my dad never acted like he was in pain. He had several stitches lined from his hairline to the central back of his skull.

Regardless of how much of a front he displayed, I could see through it.  Alcohol had truly ruined my life. It robbed me of a childhood, and now it nearly robbed me of the only person who'd given me a chance at life.