True Blue

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hollin

It hasn't been very busy today, although that makes sense because everybody is getting ready for school that is starting tomorrow. Of course where a regular teenage kid would be getting ready for their first day at school, I am still working. Then again when your parents own their own restaurant and are too stubborn to hire anyone else to work for them to avoid paying them, you can't really get cut off the slack.

People who see this always sympathize me, but they don't understand. I would rather it be this way. It's better that no one sees who my father really is and that what happens behind the kitchen doors, stays there. Especially after what happened today, it's only a matter of time before the worst happens. I'm doing all I can to mentally prepare myself. 

In total, there has been six customers for dinner; the three kids from my school that come here all the time and her. Until this evening, I had never seen her before. She came in with her parents for what seemed like a nice dinner out before school starts. Then I run into her as I am bringing her family's meals to their table and spill them all over her. I expected her to be angry but she only said sorry to me! Even though I was the one who bumped into her, she was still trying to apologize to me. Of course I say that it was my fault.

Then my parents came out, and by the look on my dad's face, I knew I was going to get it later on. So my dad asks what happened and as I start to say something she cuts me off with a hard look and claims it was her fault. She even offered to pay for everything again! She obviously hadn't wanted me to say anything, by the kind of intimidating look she was giving me, so for her sake I kept my mouth shut.

Now I'm back in the kitchen doing dish duty and garbage, as I always do. Of course my mom takes the food out this time and I am left in the kitchen with my dad. I try to be quiet so he would forget about me, but the pan I was washing slips out of my hand and crashes into the opposite sink. I cringe at the loud sound and wait for the sound of his footsteps. And two seconds later I have been knocked to the ground by his forceful blow.

"Outside. Now." He whispers into my ear as he grabbed the collar of my shirt.

"Yes sir" I say and run out the back door into the crisp night. I hug myself shivering, not because I'm cold, but because I know what happens next and I have no way of preparing myself.

The door to the kitchen opens and he walks out. The light from the kitchen falls onto me as I try to stand tall, yet still look submissive, hoping that he would take it a little lighter this time. Silently he takes off his belt and walks over to me. He brings back his arm to its full extent and whips it forcefully at my head. I turn at the last minute so the worst hits my back. A stinging sensation spreads across my shoulder blades and I grit my teeth to avoid making a sound. The metal buckle had struck my right shoulder and cut through the skin. I shut my eyes tight and waited for the next blow. The next one came, harder than the last, followed by three more. I was now on my knees; my hands had fistfuls of grass in them as I wordlessly took his blows. Finally he stopped and I lay there; my whole body shaking in constant waves of pain. I now had another gash on my back and the first one much deeper. Finally, just as I had my breath regulated, my father pulled me to my feet and looked at me in disgust. My legs collapsed beneath and he pushed me the rest of the way to the ground. I know that my back is on fire, but everything just feels numb at this point. 

"Get back inside now." He spit on my face and that was it. I just lay there a moment waiting for some strength to come back into my legs. Slowly I sit up, wincing. After wiping the spit off my face, I slowly make my way to the cement wall a few feet away and use it to help me get back on my feet. Rising to my feet, I fight the nausea that washes over me. It was harder getting up than I anticipated. After what seemed like an hour, the pain and nausea finally resided enough for me to walk and I made my way slowly to the back door to the kitchen, hunched.

Upon entering the kitchen, I noticed that my parents were arguing with each other; more like my dad talking over my mom and taking over, finally concluding it with his final statement. With my walking in they both fall silent and look at me. My dad glares at me until I lower my head, but not before I see the expression on my mom's face. She wore an expression that was protected and uncaring of what had just happened to me. Though, I was used to that now. A few years back, when my father first started drinking, she was very protective of me. After trying to protect me from a few of his wraths, getting hit and abused, she learnt that if I took his rage, she would go, for the most part, untouched. She eventually just stopped caring at all. She's terrified of him, so she won't even try to call the police, or anybody for that fact, to help us. So that finally brings us to the present. It has become a weekly thing, the beatings, so I try to bear them wordlessly. None of my class mates know about it, they just think I am very clumsy. I no longer have the faithful, reliable friends I once had. I had to leave them all behind because my father got in trouble in the last town we were in, so he decided it was time to move out of town and start over. Of course he didn't think of me; then again, as if he ever would. I lost all my friends and transferred schools in the middle of the year. I am forced to work every day at the restaurant for long hours, and he sometimes makes me miss school on really busy afternoons. As for friends, well I don't really have any close friends. I mean, I'm friends with so many kids at school, but I wouldn't call especially close buddies.I mostly try to keep to myself to avoid uncomfortable conversations and having anyone discover anything. I watch plenty of people my age come and go in the restaurant, but there is one group that makes me sad that I don't have it. It's Jenna, Becca and Reilly. The trio is always here and they are always having the best of times. I can only dream of something like that.

I am startled out of my thoughts as a hand grips my shoulder non to kindly. Looking over my shoulder I find my dad's face right there.

"Get out there and clean the tables. Remember to refill any of our customer's glasses" He spits as I try not to pull away from him. His words are slightly slurred.

I nod my head as I back away, grateful to get out of the same room as him. I wince. Nodding my head was not the best idea right now. I have to rub the kinks out of it from the whipping. I quickly clean up my back to avoid having any blood soak through the clean shirt I had ready. I wrap up as quickly as possible and get back to work.

I start to wipe the tables down and put up the chairs. Passing by the trio's table, I feel a hand gently touch my arm.

"Yes?" I ask Becca, who stopped me.

"One, can I please have another glass of that fruity punch stuff..." She says.

"And a sprite for me please." Jenna adds.

"I'll just have some more water thanks." Reilly says finally cluing in.

I nod and start to head away to get their refills, only to be stopped once again by Becca's voice.

"And two, Hollin, what happened to you?! You've got a cut or something on your neck and it's bleeding a bit!" Finally realizing that Jenna also gasps, and Reilly leans over the table with a look of confusion on his face.

"Umm. N-Nothing really. I was just out side taking the garbage out and got caught on a metal piece. I guess it ripped the skin." I lie, making the mistake of shrugging my shoulders, trying not to wince.  "I didn't even realize it was bleeding."

I couldn't tell if any of them believed it, so I just avoid their eyes and go to get their drinks.

If only they knew...