Curiosity

I precariously balanced her stereo on top of my television. One good thing about old t.v's was you could actually put stuff on them. Which may or may not be a good thing considering the condition of my room was less than standard. With clothing and boxes among other items strewn across the room and on the floor I had to jump from the door way onto my bed to avoid unnecessary tripping and toe stubbings. Stubbings? Was stubbings even a word? Probably not.

I heard the door open from downstairs and flinched involuntarily.

Looks like dad's home.

Unbeknownst to many, but I often receive harsh beatings from my alcoholic father. Calling him 'dad' would be out of place. Being a dad requires loving your child. I could hear him stumbling around the house, probably looking for me. It's best if I just go downstairs now, before he gets angry. Or rather, angrier. I warily trudged down the steps. Luckily I had bought another container of coverup so the bruises shouldn't be a problem. Many would think that I put up with this because I love my Father and don't want him to get hurt and have to face the consequences of his actions. But that's not the reason. The reason is if I tell and get taken away from him I have to go to a foster home. I hate foster homes. Also, this house holds the only memories I have left of my mother. I couldn't lose them.

Lost in my own thoughts, I wasn't paying attention and walked into my father. Well, fuck.

I was greeted with a back hand that took me to the floor, so I just lay there. I had learned that the sooner you stop fighting back, the sooner the beating ends.

“Watch wherre yer goin' ya lil waste of flesh!” He slurred, promptly finishing the sentence with a swift kick to my ribs. I grunted but stayed slack. If I tensed up he would just get angry. I closed my eyes so he thought I was passed out. Even in his intoxicated state he didn't buy it. He kicked me in the side of the head, then again on my face, hitting me on my left lower jaw. He kept kicking me. In the ribs, and the face and the arms. I just layed there. After about a minute he stopped, looking down at my limp body. His rage had passed.

“Oh... oh my lil Katty I'm so surry” He slurred, and then reach down to touch my face. I got up and limped quickly to my room, locking the door. You might wonder why I didn't just stay in there when he was looking for me. It's pretty simple. If he doesn't get to take his anger out on me, he will just come up here and kick my door in, THEN beat me. It's happened before. I had to put the door back on my self. That's why it hung crooked from my door frame. It barely locked and often times jammed. I even had to crawl out my window to get to schools on days I couldn't get it open.

I just lay in my bed. I don't cry. It does no good to cry.

I wake up. My face hurts. Luckily why arms block most of the kicks to my ribs, so none of them felt broken. But I couldn't protect my face. I looked in the little broken mirror that hung on my wall. The left side of my face was a blue-ish purple colour. It was blotched along my jaw and below my eye. It contrasted oddly with my amber eyes. I picked up my coverup from my nightstand and squinted in the dark, trying to put it on smoothly. After about 30 seconds I'd had enough and went to turn on the light. I flicked the switch but the light stayed off. Great, dead-fucking-battery. I decided on the next best thing. I opened my curtains and blinds to let the early morning sun leak through the windows, then walked back to my mirror. Wow, it was worse then I thought. I squirted the coverup onto my fingertips and applied it to my face. It did the trick. I took a brush to my short dark hair. It hung down long enough to brush my neck, and almost my shoulders; but not quite. It was more of a shaggy boy-cut than anything. I combed through it quickly with my fingers. I didn't have greasy hair, so I decided to skip a shower today. I really didn't want to run into my father on the off chance he was awake already. And I really didn't want the noise of the shower to wake him up if he wasn't. Even IF he was sober.