Another Day in Paradise

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Dakoda

            I stacked the few groceries into the old, worn down, wooden cabinets with a mournful expression, trying to keep quiet so I wouldn't wake my dad. He would kill me if I did.  My grumbling stomach had been too much so I had gone and bought food after some contemplation. Contemplation meaning: get lost in drawing until your throat feels like it’s been ripped out, and your stomach feels like it shriveled to the size of a raison.

Okay, so my dad wasn't really sleeping. He was with some poor drunken girl who he found at the bar. I wonder how many shots of tequila she needed before being convinced to sleep with him. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. I don't think I could ever drink. Or smoke. Or gamble. Or try drugs. I would never be able to stand being the same person my parents were to me, to my kids. If I ever have any. If I ever want any.

Why would I want kids born into my screwed up family?

            With a pang, I thought for a moment of my mom. I didn't like her, or her clothes, or even her habits, but she was better than my dad. She didn't beat me. When I was little she had bought me some clothes. She went grocery shopping every few months without my help. At least she was better until she left me with my dad. I couldn't believe she would actually leave me. Leaving a child with their abusive dad was almost worse than the abusive dad itself. Didn't she care enough to bring me with? Didn't she want me out of this place like she was?

Obviously not.

            Choking back my grief, I tried to hold back the breaking feeling inside me. I wanted to snap into two. I was so…frustrated. Why was my dad so cruel? Why had my mom left me? Didn't she at least like me? Why was this happening to me? Why could I still not get Marc out of my head?

Why did I care so much about any of this?

            I restrained myself from slamming the door to the cabinet shut. It just wasn't fair. Why did I have to have these parents? There were plenty of people out there worse than I was, yet I was stuck with them. I hated it so much I just wanted to choke somebody.

How much I wanted to choke something. I wanted to hurt anything. I wanted to release the mass of…anger in my chest.

I glared at the clock which shouted back that it was already almost mid-night. I didn't care, though I had school tomorrow. I grabbed my old mp3 player, downloaded with songs I had gotten from Piper's, and shoved the ear buds into my ears. I put the music up loud, going outside to sit on my porch. I closed the door softly as I could and sat on the steps to my open porch, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment.

Liar, Liar, by Christiana Grimmie blared out into my ears and I nodded my head to the beat as I pulled my jacket tighter around me in the chilled breeze. The moon shone down on me, her creamy silver eye giving the world an almost eerie glow. I stared up at the dark sky almost dreamily, enthralled by the moon in her pale light. I didn't know what it was, or why, but I loved the moon. I loved the myths that surrounded it and when we learned about Greek gods I had decided Artemis was my favorite due to her being goddess of the moon, the hunt, wild animals, (and many more). I thought it was peculiar on how the moon was connected to the waters tides.

I thought wolves howling at the moon, was a picture of pure beauty.

But that was just me. I was sure when anyone else looked at the moon; all they saw was just that. The moon. Some pale disk floating in the sky. They didn't care about it or its connections. Either way, it didn't stop me from thinking it was beautiful. I had learned that the more simple things were often the most enthralling. I rubbed my hands together and pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs to hold them close to me. I closed my eyes for a few moments and listened to my music, getting lost in the rhythms.