Summertime Strawberries

2

We got home and I made my little brother some hot chocolate to warm him up, both of us changing out of our strange attire. I moved around the kitchen silent as possible as not to walk up my father who was sleeping on the couch, but I failed in my task as I accidentally knocked a glass dish off of the stove, breaking it into hundreds of pieces. I froze, waiting for any type of noise until I heard a groan from the living area and then quickly started picking up the glass shards. "Michael. Go upstairs now." I wanted him out of the kitchen as quickly as possible so he wouldn't have to see what went on.

"No." I swallowed as a slurred, gravely voice invaded my ears. "It's time this little shit sees what happens when someone is rude enough to wake up their father." I stood up and turned around, facing my father. He was a very large man with graying hair, and very wealthy, but when I was born, he blamed me for everything that happened. My mother was his assistant, but when she left for maternity leave, her replacement made a mistake that cost my father and his business thousands of dollars. He was so devastated that he started to drink away all of the money that went to the family. To take care of me, my mother had stolen some of the money from my father, but he caught her and had beaten the living crap out of her. She had died twelve years ago while giving birth to Michael because of all the physical abuse that had damaged her body.

I looked at Michael who was frozen on the stairs, unable to take his terrified eyes off of the hulking man drunkenly advancing. His knuckles were white from clutching the mug that held his hot drink. I looked back to my father who grabbed me by the front of my shirt, towering over me, his rancid breath stinging my eyes and nose. He suddenly grabbed my hands, the glass digging into my palms, and took away the biggest piece that he could grab onto and backhanded me across the face with it. I hissed as I felt the sharp bite cause crimson blood run down my cheek. I released the glass in my hands to the floor and reached up to touch my stinging face, little pieces of the glass still clinging to the small cuts on my hands. The bastard grabbed my hand that was reaching up and slammed it into my face without any mercy, new little incisions appearing on both my hand and face. I swallowed a yelp as he threw me on the floor and backed away, nearly falling over from all of the alcohol. "Don't wake me up again." He kicked me once and coughed. "Little bitch." My face was burning, I couldn't believe he would do this to me in front of Michael. That man would pay one day. I heard a crash and looked up quickly, my father turning around to see what it was as well. Michael stood on the bottom step in the exact position that I had last seen him in, except for one thing, his hands had released the cup and it was now in pieces on the floor with dark liquid chocolate surrounding it. "Fist the dish and now this? You little shits really like breaking my stuff don't you." Michael's face went white as a sheet as our father walked over with heavy steps. "Come here boy. You need to be taught a lesson."

Now it was my turn to become pale. He had never harmed Michael before, I had always sent him out of harm's way, but now was different, he couldn't get away. I struggled to my feet, the place where our father kicked me sending pain shooting into my ribs. As that monster advanced, I stumbled over to them both, watching the tears pour out of my little brother's eyes as he stood there, frozen in fear. Just as he was about to touch Michael, I grabbed the monster's shoulder, spinning him around, and slammed my fist hard into his face. He stumbled and fell over, looking at me in shock while he rubbed his chin. "Michael." My voice cracked just a bit, but I ignored it as the man in front of me started to get up with fury burning in his eyes. "Please just go upstairs. You don't have to see this." I watched him run up the stairs until a giant, meaty fist slammed into my cut cheek.

The force of the blow sent me flying into the wall and I gasped, the pain firing into my whole body. "Son of a bitch!" My father slammed his foot into my stomach and I threw up all over the floor. "NEVER hit your father!" He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, screaming in my face. "NEVER!" He then threw me against the floor and kicked me over and over, causing me to vomit multiple times as the pain freely soared through my body. Halfway through, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and started drinking it as he beat me. The only reason I didn't let myself pass out on the floor is so that I would remember everything he had ever done to me when I got my revenge. When he was finally done, I was limp from all of the pain and covered in cuts and bruises, then he poured the last dregs of his beer onto my face, the dull sting getting into my cuts. "Little asshole." I heard the shatter of glass as the bottle came down heavily down onto my head and as his footsteps receded, I let myself drift into a painless sleep. The last thing that I saw was Michael standing on the steps having seen everything.