Don't Look Back

Beer Bottles

(Image of Tarja)

Tarja - POV

There's a bottle under the sofa, two more under the coffee table, in the kitchen sink, on top of the fridge. There were even a couple cans hanging from the old, white ceiling fan that was hardly even used.

I continue picking up beer bottles and cans, as well as making sure all the ashtrays are emptied into a large black rubbish bag. Last time I accidentally forgot to empty one of the ashtrays from outside and I got slapped in the face by my dad so hard I flew backwards, hitting the wall with a violent THUD! I had bruised ribs for 6 weeks.

Yeah, so my parents are kind of alcoholics. They drink all day, party all night and complain about how I'm such a disappointment. Sometimes I wish I could jump into someone else's shoes or run away with the circus or something. Ya know? Huh. I just wish things could be different.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts immediately when I hear both my parents yelling my name, telling me to come downstairs now; with a bunch of threats following after. I make it down the stairs quickly and stand in front of my parents with my head drooping a little. Then my mother speaks up.

"So why is this garbage bag still sitting on the living room floor?" My mothers glare narrows further. It makes me nervous.

"I... I was going to throw the rubbish out, but I was just grabbing all other pieces of rubbish from upstairs."

My mother goes to speak but is cut off when my dad takes a stride closer to me so his face is only mere inches from mine. He has a bulky build. All muscle. And he has the most piercing green eyes. I guess that's why people find him to be so intimidating.

"How dare you speak back to your own mother you ungrateful brat!"

He spat raising his hand and in a swift moment my body lift off the ground and find myself lying at the bottom of the stairs , the wind knocked completely out of me.