Kill Me with Love

Chapter 16

 Chapter 16

My fingers feel numb from the freezing breeze coming from outside. Squeezing my fingers together to bring the feeling back did nothing. I keep my back turned away from the window, maybe it will help bring me some warmth. Snuggling my blanket closer, pulling it up. A creak coming from the door opening startles me a little. Hiding my emotions like always, I stay still pretending to be asleep. Hearing the footsteps coming in was enough for me to know it belongs to my mother’s. Her steps are slow and gentle not wanting to wake me up, unlike my father’s whose were heavy basically dragging them on the floor from the alcohol he’s consumed.

The breeze from the cold storm stopped. Maybe she closed the window, would have done it myself only if I had the height to do so. I wait for the sound of the door to creak again, signaling me she is leaving but it never came. Feeling her presence made me so uncomfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with her being here, it’s just that I prefer to be alone.

I hear sobbing. Why is she crying? I understand medical school is hard but she doesn’t have to cry. Or maybe it’s the bills again. Fighting the urge to comfort her was hard, I don’t want her to know I was pretending to be asleep this whole time. My bedtime was hours ago, she’d be so disappointed in me if she finds out.

The door slams from downstairs, almost sending the whole house shaking from the force. My mother stops crying, she seems to be choked up. He calls her name from downstairs angrily. My body trembles from the sound. I am afraid. This happens all the time. I don’t even know why she comes down whenever my father calls her. I wish I had the courage she had.

Shouting came from downstairs. You’d think I’m used to it since it happens almost every night, but every single word sends a sting through my body. It’s almost like I feel physically hurt for every word they yell back and forth. The sound of slap makes me cringe. Those are the worst, he’s brought his hands to her.

After many times of her pleading him to stop, he never did. Usually he stops after a couple of times she begs him to. That time never came, I keep hearing the punches, the yells, the shouting. All that there is for me to do is wrap my pillow around my head to block the sound. Every punch sends a jolt down my stomach making me feel sick, ready to hurl.

Gathering up my courage, I think about what my mother would do if she was in my situation. My feet touches the cold icy floor, giving me a very noticeable trail of goose bumps on my arms. The door creaks open, revealing a fifteen year old Travis in his favorite blue pajamas and a plain white t-shirt. Staring at me, eyes full of concern for his ten year old little sister. Knowing why he’s here, I bring myself past him and follow the source of the pain keeping me up. The closer I get the worse their words got, every single one sends a punch to my gut.

He’s yelling at her. I hear it’s about money, it always is. She apologizes for the hundredth time today, but he shakes it off. Lifting his arm up, he quickly connects it with her cheek. Seeing it happen was worse, it had me jumping off the ground letting out an involuntary yelp as if I was the one hurt. My mom looks at me, eyes filled with tears, and hand cupping the area she’s been hit. Feeling the fear seep through my body, I stand frozen. Hands place themselves on both my shoulders, letting me know Travis is right behind comforting me.

My father brings his gaze to me. His eyes burn, not a hint any emotion other than anger is seen. Remaining silent at the sight, he brings himself towards me. My heart beats a thousand times a minute. Roughly gripping my wrist, he pulls me forward throwing me with my mother on the floor. Her cheeks are incredibly in deep shades of red, almost bruising. Travis stands there wide eyed not knowing what to do. I understand, I don’t know what to do either.