Lady Vixen

Chapter Two

A year had gone by. It's crazy how things could change within a year. I no longer lived in my home. The house reminded my father of what happened too much. He couldn't sleep in the room for two months. We moved into an apartment complex closer to my school. It was nice two-bedroom apartment. Our bedrooms faced one another as the bathroom stood in the middle. It was nothing compared to our home. My room was much bigger with a nice view. This room was a little smaller with the view of an alley and vacant homes across from that alley. My old closet felt like an extra room compared to this closet.

My living situation wasn't the only thing that changed. My father could not go a night without drinking since her death. Before bed, he would go into his room with a brown bag in his hand from work. He wouldn't say anything to me after I got out of school. He would just shut the bedroom door behind him and lock it leaving me alone in the living room of the apartment and he would never come out.

One night, I faked going to bed to see if he would come out. I purposely cracked my door open and watched as he opened his door back up. I could hear him sobbing as if he just finished crying. I could see the television's light reflecting onto his pants. I tip-toed out of my room and stood in the hall as I listened to him cry. I sat in the hallway with my back against the wall. He missed her and so did I.

I built the courage to get up and walked into his room pushing the door open some. I approached him as his head was down with the 40oz beer beside him as they both sat on the floor of the room. I placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and I watched as his face turned from sad to anger. "What are you doing up? Get to bed," he said to me.

"It's going to be okay, Dad," I said to him. He looked at my hand and then at my eyes. He took a long pause as he gathered his thoughts. He placed his hand on mine as he slowly lifts it off his shoulder. I could feel him squeeze my hand as he takes it off his shoulder.

"Didn't I say go to bed? Go to bed!" he shouted as he forcefully let go of my hand. I took a step back holding my hand into the other staring at him. "Leave me alone!"

I slowly walked out of the room not knowing what to do. I wanted to help him, but, how could I? I couldn't even help my mother. What if he blamed me? What if he thought it was my fault that she was killed? I couldn't say he was wrong. It was my fault. I could have saved her. Well, I could have at least tried. She needed me and I watched as the man killed her. I am a horrible person. I killed my mother. I couldn't hold the tears back anymore. Each tear brought back every moment and feeling of that night. I could of did something to help her. I could have been there for her. Instead, I acted like a child and left her for dead. I shut my door slowly as the tears continued to fall. I sat on the floor with my back pressed against the foot of the bed. The moonlight shine through the window nearly touching my feet. It was going to be another long night much like the night after her death.

This day he was different. I wasn't sure if it stemmed from hearing me cry for my mother, or the fact that he yelled at me for the first time. Granted, this change did happen a week later. A week where I wasn't sure if I should even speak to my father because of the person he was becoming. I believe he felt that.

I walked out of the school building with Alex and Justin, my two best friends, as I made eye contact with him. Alex was like a sister to me. We have been friends since we were children. There was always play dates and sleepovers at our houses. The bond was just so innocent and genuine. Then there was Justin. Justin and I started becoming friends after my mother's death. I was in such grief one day that I couldn't hold it together in school. The reading assignment we had in class mentioned a mother-daughter relationship and I instantly lost it. I ran out of the classroom with tears falling down my eyes. I sat with my back against the school's empty hallway. He came out of the classroom moments behind me and sat next to me. We talked and eventually he got me to calm down. He helped me through it all. He showed compassion and sympathy.

"You should go," I said to Justin out the side of my mouth. He walked away from me and Alex stayed by my side.

"I'm not going anywhere," Alex said to me.

"I didn't think you would," I said to her as we smiled at each other. I took a deep breath. "Let's see which version of my father I am getting this time."

We walked up to him and he just stood there with a smile. "Hey Viv, Alex," he said to us with a little enthusiasm in his voice.

"Hey Mr. T," Alex said to him with a smile.

"Thought I'd walk you home today Viv," he said to me.

"Why?" I asked him. A car horn beeped behind him.

"That's my ride," Alex said to me. "Text me."

"Okay," I said to her.

"Bye Mr. T," Alex said to him with a wave. She gets in the back of her mother's truck. My father and I turned to the truck as we waved goodbye.

"How was school?" he asked me.

"Good," I said to him.

"That's good," he said to me as we began to walk towards home. It all felt so awkward as neither one of us had words for the other. I just continued to listen to the other cars driving passed us as we walked. "Who was that boy that ran away from you earlier?"

"What boy?" I asked. I could hear him chuckle under his breath. "What?"

"So, you just going to lie to me in my face?" he asked me.

"Lie to you about what?" I asked him as I stopped in my tracks. He turned around as I stared him back in his eyes.

"Who was he?"

"Justin!" I yelled rolling my eyes in frustration.

"Now you remember his name," he said to me. We continue to walk down the street. I could tell he was mad by the way he was breathing while walking.

He opened the apartment door asking me to go in first. I hesitated walking through the threshold of the door. My father pushed me inside as I fell face first on the carpet floor. He closed the apartment door and locked it behind him. I turned around to him crawling backwards away from him. Eventually, I got up from the floor and ran towards my room. I tried slamming my door, but he caught the door before it could connect. I pressed my body onto the door trying to weigh the door shut, but he was just too strong. He let the door go allowing me to close it some. I was close to closing it completely when a huge thrust came upon the door. It forced me back a little and my father walked through the door.

"What did I tell you about hanging around them little boys?" he asked me with that burning fury in his eyes.

"Justin is my best friend," I said to him.

"You don't have no boy best friends!" he yelled at me.

"Yes, I do!" I yelled back. His right hand flew across my left cheek. I held my face trying to withstand the pain. I looked up at him as the anger rushed through my body after that smack. I wanted to cry but I was holding every cell in my body to prevent myself from doing so.

"Yell at me again and I will make sure that you will not be able to yell again," he said to me.

"Justin is my friend," I said to him. "He's been there for me."

"And I haven't?" he asked me. I looked away from him holding my face. He stepped closer to me bending over at eye level with me. "Look at me when I am talking to you." I turned my face to him.

"No," I finally let out.

"Look at where you are. I got us this place! I got you those clothes!" he yelled at me.

"I wish Mom was still here," I said to him. His whole face changed. He looked at me with rage in his eyes. I was preparing myself from the pain of his hit this time. He was going to hit me again. I just knew it. Instead, he walked out of the room and closed my door behind him. I stood there in fear of what he might do. I could hear the front door open and close as well. I threw my book bag on the floor. I let out the long-awaited tears. I slowly walked to my bed and climbed on top of it. I barricade myself in the pillow placing it over top of my head. I cried and screamed in the pain of stretching my left cheek. It hurt so bad. I wish Justin was here. I wish my mother was here.