The Hog

Chapter 6

I'm tip toeing to the front door. I don't want to bump into Frank, he'll just demand money for alcohol and the only money I have is to pay for my school outing that is next weekend. The entire tenth grade has to go and Jeremy said I couldn't put in a sick note this year.

"We are only this young right now." he had said to me. I know Frank is in the kitchen so I'll just skip breakfast and wait till school break to eat.

"Come down stairs, I have to talk to you!" I hear him shout at the foot of the stairs.

A few more steps and I'll be out. But then the wooden floor squeaks.

"What the..." Frank appear from behind me, " Sneaking away without breakfast Hog?" he steps closer.

I take a deep breath and do the only thing I can think of. I grab the handle of the front door, yank it open and make a run for it. I don't expect Frank to do what he does. He runs after me. I feel panic when I hear the thud of his size eleven feet on the pavement right behind me. Run. Run. I will my feet to run faster. I turn a corner. There's a squeack, a crash sound and I blank out.

I can hear two voices arguing. Jeremy and a much softer voice. "He ran her onto the road. A car smashed into her, how is any of that okay?" Jeremy's voice booms.

"Jeremy it is none of our business." I recognise Mrs Kelp's calm tone.

"Damn right it is, she is my best friend. That man is an animal. They should take her away from him." I can hear his deep breaths from my bed.

I open my eyes to look at my surroundings.

"Jer..." my voice is nothing but a hoarse whisper. Jeremy's head snaps in my direction.

He rushes to me and wraps his arms around me. We stay like that for a while.

"I hate Frank." he says.

"I hate Frank." I reply.

********

I don't know how I made it to the park but I'm here. It's nearly dark out but I am sitting on a park bench in a part of town I don't know. I just remember getting back home and finding Frank passed out on our stoop. I dragged his heavy body inside and managed to heave him onto one of the couches. After checking for a pulse I left. The bastard is still alive and that thought alone brought a rush of relief into my body. I hate that I'm relieved that he is still alive. I hate Frank! Why do I still care that he is alive. Why did a rush of panic control me when I thought he wasn't breathing?

I left the house and just started walking. I walked in and out of streets without even trying to remember the way back. I walked for almost half and hour before finding this park and this bench. I hate that I still still cry about this. I hate that after so many years of the same bull I can sit on a random park bench and cry my eyes out. There's nothing new here, Frank drank his mind out as usual but I still cry my eyes out like its never happend before.

I'm brought out of my trance of self hatred by the buzzing and ringing of my phone. It's a number I don't know.

"Hello?" I pick up.

"Hog?"

"Who is this?" I involuntary sniff.

"Its Thomas."

"How do you have my number?"

"I have my ways." I can almost hear the smirk on his face.

" What do you want?" I try not to sniff again but I can't help it. What am I doing, I don't want that jerk knowing I cry.