summer with my priest

one paranoid soul

Dad never hit me when we got home. He's the kind of man to keep his chill. But when it gets out of hand, (rarely happens) he threatens my life like crazy. He yells horrible things that he would do to me but he never ever does them.

Not that I wanted him to slit my throat. That'd just be unethical.

He's on the house phone with my mom. They're yelling in the kitchen. Even if were my mom's voice was at the end of a line, it's still loud enough for me to hear from the living room.

I sit on the floor with my legs crossed and face opposite from the unlit fire place. I glare at my father as him as my mom continue complaining about me through the phone.

Dad catches me glaring and looks back at me with devil eyes.

No way in fucking hell he's playing the good guy. I've lost all trust in him. His one biggest job was to take care of my family. To take care of me.

That son of a bitch took away two things I loved. My trust and my priest. And not to mention how disloyal he is to my mom.

You know what? I never loved that bastard in the first place.

I don't stop glaring at him. He hung up the phone and glared back at me. He walks over and crouches down to speak to me on the floor.

"You" he spoke angrily, finger pointing strictly at my chest. "are grounded."

Do I fucking care?

I decide not to say a word.

Which was a smart thing to do. Because I think he'd have slapped me the second I open my mouth.

Dad stands back up and walks away. My mom may be on his side for now, but she won't be forever. For as long as I know what my father did, I'd be the running mouth in this small family to break us all apart.

I don't care. I'd have to do what needs to be done at some point.

--

I was forced to visit Tommy in the hospital later that day. Grandma took me to see him. I hate Tommy but I think I went a little too far this morning. Putting that poor kid in the hospital is a whole new level of hatred. I'm just lucky that Tommy's dad didn't call his lawyer or something.

Grandma made me buy a stuffed teddy bear from Walgreens before coming to the hospital. She said that I needed to give it to Tommy to show that I sincerely apologized for what I did.

The sad thing though, none of this was my own idea. I'm only doing what I'm being told to do against my own will. Why, isn't that the biggest part of childhood? Listening to your authorities whether you like it or not. Even if I know they're wrong about something, I can't say much because apparently i'm just a dumb brat with less knowledge.

Oh, what would I know? I wouldn't understand. I'm not old enough.

I walk straight into Tommy room, hiding the stuffed teddy behind my back. Grandma scolds me for walking in without knocking and saying hello but I shrugged it off.

Tommy's bumass brother is sleeping on a chair next to his hospital bed. Spike looks gross when he sleeps. His mouth hangs open, there's just slobber leaking out, and snot bubbles get bigger every time he snores.

I can't judge. I probably sleep like that too. I wouldn't know if i'm unconscious.

"Hi Gavin" Tommy waves at me. I roll my eyes and walk towards his bed, mumbling a hi in return.