The strange, unexpected, & supernatural

The creek (Dylan Urie)

*Warning - Rape/Child abuse

You said you'd always protect me from harm, and that you'd never lie.  Secrets are an exception, you told me from young.  You said secrets existed to protect others.   It's like the game, 'Two Truths and a lie'.

Truth: Secrets are an exception, therefore...

... Truth: You'd never lie

Lie: You didn't always protect me from harm.

I knew mom hated me, as did you.  When I came from school to our isolated house near the woods, mom would always be there because you'd work late, in addition to your one - hour commute on the train, then 2-mile walk before you'd arrive.  You hated driving because parking was hell.

I asked why we lived so far from the city. You said because mom liked the privacy.  My interpretation was that mom wanted as few people to know I existed as possible.  I never told you, though, because you'd probably agree and it'd make you sad.  I didn't want you to be sad.

Mom never loved me.  In my 17 years of life, she never told me.  There were countless times she tried to end it, but you intervened at the last minute.

You weren't home yet.   I took a break from reading in my room and came downstairs for some water.  Mom was in the kitchen.  She didn't speak but I felt her eyes burning into my back as I took a plastic cup from the cabinet.  She took the cup from me and slammed it on the ground, making me jump on impact.  She said nothing as I stood there. I was about to pick it up when she grabbed me by my shirt collar and pinned me to the wall, lifting and choking me.  She restricted my airflow as I dangled inches from the ground.

"Mom," I croaked.  "M-mom."

The more I tried to pry her hands from my throat, the weaker I became.  When the world dimmed, I started wheezing and my arms fell to my sides as my head drooped.  Pulse slowing beneath her fingertips...

"Sarah!"

You pulled her away and she dropped me.  I fell, coughing and gasping.  You kneeled to me, murmuring reassuring words as she stood idly with her arms over her chest.  Blurrily, I saw you look at her, but her gaze was glued to me. You carried me to my bedroom and laid me down.   I couldn't speak.  You sat by me, stroking my short hair until I finally said, "Dad."  You smiled small and kissed my forehead, still fondling my curls, ignoring mom who was leaning on my door frame, arms folded.

I couldn't eat for the rest of the day.   It hurt to swallow my saliva.  You let me skip school and stay home with you for a week because my motor skills were so fucked up.   You didn't take me to the hospital because they'd ask what happened.  You're the reason I'm still alive.  That wasn't the first time mom tried to murder me, but it was the closest she'd ever gotten.  By the next week, my neck bruise cleared and you said I could go back to school.

That night, you sat on my bed, stroking my curls while mom was downstairs.   You whispered, "I thought I told you to steer clear of mom at all costs."

You did say that.  Countless times.  Mom never came into my room.  I put myself into the situations I did.  "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault.  I'll talk to her, okay?"

I nodded.  You smiled and kissed my forehead.  "I love you," you said before turning out my light and shutting the door.

You always said you loved me.  Mom never did.  You always said I was smart.  Mom never did.

She hurt me numerous times.  Six months ago, I thought I could change her mood by presenting my honor roll acceptance letter.  Big mistake on my part. It was silent for a minute, but that silence was filled with the sudden crumpling of paper, my collar being grabbed, my chest pressed onto the wall, and my arm digging into my back, twisting.  I groaned in agony, but you rounded the corner as she released and it made a sound crack.  You knew what happened, and to my surprise, you drove me to the doctor.