Turn Tail

A Bad Birthday

                A blowing wind rustled my dull orange hair and my face was streaked with tears that wouldn't stop pouring from my emerald eyes. I had gotten lucky in my genes; I looked more like my mother than my father. I can say he did give me some nice additions to my looks though, the ever-persistent shiner he keeps giving me. I've long said my eye socket would collapse under his fist before it healed to show it's spattering of freckles.

I chuckled and kissed my mothers' headstones again. It had been eighteen years since she died and eighteen years I had been on this Earth alone. My father barely spoke words to me unless it was to order me to cook, clean, or purchase food.

I got up from my kneeling position and dusted the dirt off my light jeans and wiped my face with the sleeve of an age-old college sweatshirt I'd found in my fathers' laundry. I sniffed and looked out to the rolling mountain ranges that my house was settled between. Dunlain Bridge was a gorgeous village in the middle of Scotland, but it held hard memories for my small family.

My mother had been born here and my father, after exiting the U.S. military, moved to be with the love of his life. After her death the mountains, valley, and village held such heartbreaking memories for him. I can understand why he acts the way he does to me. He loves me unconditionally, but I can see the pain I cause him entering a room in his peripherals and he thinks I'm my mom. He never hurts me bad enough for me to run though. Black eyes and bruised limbs be damned; I'd never give up on my family.

I started the short walk through the village to my father's house, he and my mom had bought it just before I came into the picture. I waved at all the appropriate people; the baker who gives me a discount if I limp, the florist who never lets me leave without a rose and old lady Mildred who gives me cookies and tea. Their faces were extra-long today as they were aware the date just as I was. I walked through the village with a somber face knowing that my father was home and dinner was soon. We had dinner once a year together on my birthday and it always ended in a terrible way.

I shoved the door open after unlocking it and went straight into the kitchen where my father was sitting at the table. The table was situated in between the entrance and the fridge. It was illuminated our old yellow lamp that swung above it. It made the kitchen look an eerie yellow.

His hands were clasped together and one look at him, you knew he was seething. His body shook and his shoulders were hunched over. He raised his head and I stepped backwards at the force of his eyes. The fire behind them was worse than all other days of the year. I should be used to the behavior by now, but it still breaks me every time.

"You're late; of all days you chose this day to be late. How dare you? Do you know remember what your mother sacrificed for your pitiful existence? ANSWER ME!" He shouted at ear splitting volumes and his fist slammed into the table. It creaked in protest and he pushed away from it. He raised to his feet and made quick work walking to me. My eyes were at ground level suddenly analyzing all the dust bunnies I missed yesterday. I felt his hand lift a lock of my hair off my front shoulder.

"Such pretty hair, just like your mothers. I could say you stole that from her too." His voice was just above a whisper and he gripped it at the scalp suddenly causing me to yelp in pain. "Look at me in the eyes." The gravel in his voice churned my stomach. I looked up into his eyes and could see the pain he was in. His eyes were grey and sad; all color lost of it's once blue I'd only seen in photos.

"I'm sorry dad, I didn't mean to be late. I got stuck talking to the baker." I'd learned long ago to not mention I was visiting my mom's grave. I put my hands it his chest to push myself away from him, but it was no use as he locked my hair tighter. He suddenly slung my hair and body to the ground. I barely caught my fall with my hands before the side of my head was smashed into the tile flooring. I'd heard a cracking, but couldn't figure out if it was my wrist, head or a tile. A puff of air left my mouth with a groan following it. He was crouched beside me.

"Oh, yeah? You sluting it out to the baker? You know he has a wife and little baby on the way." His fist was in my hair again, pulling me up again with vigor. His hands gripped my biceps tightly. I could feel him overlapping the bruises he'd given me a few days ago and winced at the strength and anger he held onto me with. I looked at him in the eyes, the pain I could see was unmeasurable; tears were in my eyes and threatening to spill, I couldn't hold them back.

One tear, two tears, and three fell.

His eyes ignited with anger and he sneered at me, "you have no reason to be crying. You did this to us. YOU. This is all your fault." If possible, I felt his hands grip tighter and before I could block him, I felt his fist on my left cheek. I stumbled backwards into the oven holding onto it tightly to not fall. I looked up at him and saw double for a good few seconds.

"I'm sorry, dad, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kill mom. I wish more than anything I was never born so you would never have to experience this pain." I sobbed out; the tears stung my cheek. I'm guessing his wedding band broke skin. He usually never wears it, but of course today he did. I raised my sweater sleeve to wipe my snotty nose and stray tears. He froze and before he could move, I darted out of the kitchen running past him as fast as I could so he couldn't pull me back. I shouldn't have mentioned mom; he's going to be even worse now. I could hear him running behind me and with no where to run. I darted out the unlocked door and back into the dimly lit street.

I stopped for a second once reaching the street and I wasn't sure where to run to; do I go back into town and hope someone was open or just keep running? I heard his footsteps coming onto the wooden porch, so I did the first thing my brain told me to do and I ran into the woods.

I was caught with briar vines and swatted with stray pine branches. I stumbled over a few lost roots. I looked back and was unsure if he was following me. Surely not, as he always warned me of going into the forest. It was forbidden and he made sure I knew that. If he caught me looking too long, I'd be punished. I came to a slowed pace and heaved in heavy breaths. My lungs were tight with anxiety; it was so dark, and I've never been into the woods. I stopped and rested against a thick tree. The forest was beginning to become a bit lighter as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

A small rustling to my left met my ears. I whipped my head to the left hoping to catch glimpse of something friendly. Instead I was met with two large golden orbs glowing in the shrubbery. I screamed and before I could think my feet had me darting off. I could hear whatever it was following me at a fast pace, and it didn't sound like two feet either. It was going faster than I was and was going to-

PIONK

I'd ran into a low branch and could feel my skull practically splitting into two. I fell onto my back and immediately held my head with my hands. I could feel something wet in my hair, I really did split my skull ugh.

The noise following me stopped to a slow stalking pace. I shift my head to look upside down behind me and seen the orbs come closer and could vaguely make out a large form of an animal. I was scared, in pain, and this animal was going to eat me like I was a Christmas ham. I might as well be a stupid ham; I can't believe I thought running into the woods away from my father was better. The moon began to shine the animal as I seen a large silver wolf. My blood ran cold and my chest constricted into panicky breaths. I could see dots starting to appear in my vision. My head injury mixed with the anxiety of being eaten was going to cause me to pass out. All I could manage was a breathy,

"Help me."

And my vision went black.