domesticated; through my eyes.

Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

My body hid in it's shell as I heard the front door shut from downstairs. He was inside. I heard the muttering of voices and strained to hear what they were saying but I just couldn't do it.

I crept onto the landing, my heart in my mouth, and stood on the top step. I saw in between the gap of the door that Liam, Daniel and Antony, were too far into their game to notice that Malcolm had just come back. Did they even know he was gone? I realised I was alone. There was no one I could talk too about it. After trying to control my rapid breathing, I stepped onto the step below. One step down. 11 more to go. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to push me down the stairs itself. I peered round the banister and heard that the voices were coming from the kitchen, where the door was shut behind them.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, i stepped onto the cold flooring, where it then made a creaking noise, I quickly jumped not knowing If they'd realised I was there. I walked forward and stood outside the kitchen door, the voices became much clearer now.

" Are you going to talk to me?" Malcolm asked.
"You hurt me, again, Malcolm."
"I'm sorry, I was just drunk. And you came home in that state, you shouldn't have done that, how did you expect me to react?" I heard him defend himself.

She wouldn't believe him, would she?

She wouldn't let him do it again, would she?

She would make him leave and bring daddy back, wouldn't she?

Just then, I accidentally leaned on the door slightly as It creaked partially open. A moment later, either my mum or Malcolm had opened the door from the other side as it sprung wide open.

I looked up, my eyes suddenly locked onto Malcolm's, as I saw him staring down at me. His expression was firm and very cold, as he gave me a deathly glare. I began to feel very uncomfortable and worried. I quickly looked up at my mum, and walked forward and clung to her leg tightly. I heard Malcolm's footsteps behind me getting quieter and quieter as he went into the living room. My mum stroked my hair as a sad look covered her face.

"Are you okay mum?" I asked, looking up at her. " Yes Josie. I'm going to start preparing the veg for sunday lunch now, so go and play upstairs." She brushed me off quickly.
"But I have no one to play with mum."
"Go and play with your dollies or
something." She snapped.
" Can I have a cuddle?" I asked sheepishly.
" Josie, I'm busy. Later okay. " She snapped once again. I immediately left and made my way back to my bedroom. The boys were still playing their games, my mum was making dinner, and I didn't care where Malcolm was.
I felt lonely, and bored.
Why didn't mum have time for me? Why didn't she have time for a little cuddle?

I sat on my bed and made the finishing touches to the drawing that I made earlier for my dad. I then added it to the pile of drawings I had already made for him. I liked to draw pictures for him, we are so close and I know that he would do anything for me.

For the following hours I preoccupied my self, remaining in my bedroom. I played with my dollies, I played with my mini kitchen toys, I played with my shop cash register toys, and I drew more pictures. I was in my own little world when I heard my mum calling up the stairs to all of us that dinner was ready. It was rather early for dinner, but it was Sunday, and we often had Sunday lunch at 2pm, which we would do again today.

On my way out, I was met with Daniel, Liam and Antony, in the hallway, who were also heading downstairs for dinner. We raced down the stairs after each other and sat down at the table and began to eat our chicken Sunday roast.

I noticed a huge tension rising in the room. Everyone was quiet. Malcolm seemed angry, he was prodding at his food and his movements were large and forceful. I was too scared to speak, but that was normal for me, I didn't feel like I could speak in front of him about how I felt. Or about anything really. It was better to shut up, keep my head down and be mostly ignored. I think everyone felt like that who was sitting in the room. No one said anything but I knew, the way no one made eye contact while eating, no one spoke, no one smiled. Malcolm ensured I was constantly on edge.

"THE FUCKING POTATOES ARE COLD YOU USELESS BITCH!" Malcolm immediately spat, bellowing at my mum. I looked up and jolted in fear as my heart began to race as if I had just run a marathon. I was terrified. Please, I prayed to myself, please don't let him hurt her again.

I saw him take grip of his plate that was covered with food and throw it at the wall nearest to him with all the force he owned, as it banged into the wall and crashed onto the floor, with food flying everywhere. I shrunk down in my seat, trying to make myself invisible as tears began to flow down my cheeks silently. I despised being scared. I glanced at my mum who flinched heavily, I didn't recognise her, her face seemed to have aged, and I noticed a bruise that covered her cheek bone as her hair had came lose from a clip and exposed it. The fear radiated from her body. I could tell she didn't know what to do, or say. No one did. I felt useless. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to make Malcolm leave and never come back, and I wanted to hug my mum and tell her that everything was okay and she didn't need to be scared and that I would be brave for us both. Instead, I sat frozen in fear to the spot, tears tiring my now puffy red eyes, as I watched the gravy dripping down the wall, and onto the floor.