The Outsiders Imagines & One Shots & Preferences

see the other guy // S.R.

I shouldn't have opened my mouth. That was the simple truth.

See, I was a middle-class kid in Tulsa, Oklahoma, living with her parents and older brother and younger brother. We were the perfect "American Dream Family" as my friends called it.

We lived in a two story cream colored house with rose bushes in the front by the porch, a bright blue mail box with our last name in beautiful cursive with flowers in the bottom corner of it, on the other side were me and my siblings hand prints when we were younger in black paint, our names above each of them. We had a white picket fence, and two golden retrievers, named Liberty and Freedom by my patriotic father. My older brother had been enlisted into the army as soon as he turned 17, and as soon as he turned 18 was gone.

My little brother and I had prefect grades and attendance in school, and we played sports. Tyler was the eldest, at 18, and he had a Football scholarship previously, but since he went to war it would be removed, he also had perfect grades and attendance. Jackson, my little brother, was 14 and he played baseball and football, the same college recruiter that told Tyler he had a scholarship, told Jackie to keep everything up and he'd get the same.

Me? I was 16, and I ran track and was on the cheer squad, which sometimes interfered with one another, but my coaches had a system I was on for it. I was the perfect little girl that my parents wanted, until Tyler left.

A week after Tyler had been gone was when dad had started to drink more often than he used to, and mom would try to shield us from it. He never screamed, never hit us, he was still normal besides the drinking and hangovers.

Until a month ago, when I came home late from tutoring some underclassmen, which the principal requested and sent a note home with me the day before to confirm it was alright with my parents, and they said it was.

It was about seven o'clock at night when I walked in and was greeted by a nervous looking Jackie sitting on the couch, staring at the door, and mom pacing behind the couch. Once they heard me come in, I was instantly welcomed by shouting and screaming from my father, mom tried to defend me, until he back handed her and she crashed into the coffee table in front of Jackie, who immediately rushed to her aid. Dad made the two go into the kitchen so he could "finish talking to his daughter."

That night, the next time I looked at the clock and it was nearly nine o'clock. The screaming had lasted about forty minutes, and the rest of the time was spent hitting me with his leather belt, the same one I got him for Christmas to match the leather of his wallet.

I had lashes and cuts covering me, and I was thankful it was right before Spring break, so nobody could see me.

It continued, but he would never touch mom or Jackie, and if he tried to, I could cause a distraction, so he didn't hit my little brother.

Today was nothing new. I had come in late with Jackie and mom after a parent-teacher conference and stopped to pick up dinner after. I barely made it in the door before he grabbed my arm and threw me against the already replaced coffee table, shattering the new one too. I winced at the cuts from the glass that had started on my legs and shoulders that were bare from my dress.

Mom quickly rushed Jackie out of the living room and into the kitchen as I could hear the metal from my dad's belt being removed, and the words started.

Tears burned my eyes as he hit me with the belt, and I couldn't move off the glass underneath my body. I tried to shield my face, but the belt still occasionally snuck through between or around my arms. I let a few tears out along with whimpers as the abuse continued. There were hardly any words tonight, just an occasional sentence.