Dreaming of Reality

Looking at the drinks on the table, Lexea Gravish knew it was a dangerous night to look at her father, let alone talk to him. However, her twenty-five year old brother, who was five years older than her, Drew, was going to speak with their father.  "I am going to confront him." Drew stated boldly, "This has gone on far too long, it ends now." Lexea and Drew were as close as two siblings could get, and she had always admired Drew's courage. This time, she believed, he was going too far. 

Moments later they heard the door slam down the hall, and Drew prepared himself for what he was about to do. He knew he shouldn't have been bothered by confronting their father; he'd dealt with situations far worse than a violent alcoholic in his days with the marines. Nevertheless he was frightened as they watched their father sit down at the kitchen table and pour himself another shot of whiskey. Drew then made his way into the kitchen.

Lexea watched as Drew went into the kitchen. A moment later she heard him speak, "Dad," he said sternly, "its time you and I had a little talk." 

"Huh, I don't care what you want," he huffed, "go away."

Lexea could picture the scene, Drew boldly standing in front of the table while their dad sat red-faced and beady-eyed staring back at him. 

"Since you won't see reason to anything I say," Drew continued in his authoritative voice, "I will just take action. We've tried to call the police, but they were no help, so, we are simply going to move away."

Lexea heard the chair scratch the floor as her father got up. She couldn't see what was happening but she could imagine it. 

"Now you listen to me and you listen good," her father's voice was getting louder, "nobody is going to tell me what to do!" His voice was a shout now.

"Nobody's telling you what to do!" Drew shouted back, "I'm telling you what we're going to do!" 

Lexea hear a thump and it was obvious that one of them had just been punched. She couldn't let this go on. She raced for the phone, but her hands were shaking so violently that she couldn't dial the numbers. The screams and punches had gotten out of control in the other room, and all of a sudden there was a pop and then utter silence. 

Lexea looked, very carefully, around the corner. Drew was lying on the floor, facedown, and her father was standing above him with a gun in his hand. 

Withholding a scream and sobbing silently she ran out the door, into the darkness, knowing that she would never come back. 

***

The memories of that night flooded back to her on a rainy day in Elko, South Carolina. It was June 21, the first day of summer and Drew's birthday. She'd been crying all day and couldn't stop. That whole episode had happened only two months before, and Lexea found she was normally able to control the crying and trembling, but not today. After the incident she had hopped on the bus that was going from Portland, Maine to Elko, South Carolina; she'd been their ever since. 

She couldn't help but wonder if her father was looking for her, surely he would be. He'd be out looking for her like a wolf hunting its prey. However, she had led a discreet life in Elko. Lexea had even bought her house under a different name, Lexea Morf. She didn't particularly like the name but she soon found it growing on her. 

***

In Elko, she made a point to not conjure up small talk with anyone, not even the nicest of people. She feared someone would learn her secret and try to help. Lexea knew that nobody could help and quickly learned to keep her feelings bottled inside. 

"Travis? Travis Ryan? Is that you?" Travis heard this being called loudly and he turned his head. 

"Hey Brenda," he said when he saw who was calling. Brenda was an eighty year old lady who owned the only descent restaurant in town and loved to make a scene. After all Travis was one of the youngest, most successful businessmen in America, so when people heard he was back in his hometown of Elko, South Carolina, they'd surely start talking.