Broken

Chapter 2

        Dylan looked at me more worried than ever he didn't ask what was wrong but he knew something was and also knew that I wouldn't tell him no matter how much he asked me, so he didn't say a thing to me. I grew worried of what i would tell him if he asked me what happened he wouldn't believe me if I told him I was fine and that nothing was wrong. He knew me better than that, but he didn't know about my father, no one did. People wanted to tell for the sake of my mom, no one did for the sake of my mom. If we told about my dad he would go to jail and we would lose our house. My dad makes the money that pays for the house and electricity, my aunt and mom make the money that pays for the food, my cousin pays for the TV and my older brothers and sisters pay for the phone bill and other things that have to be paid for. By my dad being arrested we loose the house, my mother will hate whoever tells, my mom will shut down, we will get the pity look from people and that is worse than the disgusted look. My mom never told Kathy, Dylan's mom, that's how we all knew that she was serious about us not telling anyone. We made sure we never got hit in the face and we paid a lot of money on make up to cover bruises and scars. My family became pathological liars just to protect my mother. None of us did anything for my father he was a piece of crap person, even worse husband, and even worse father. He would drink so much he wouldn't remember what he did the night before, which led to more fights, bruises, and lies.

****

        "You comin Riley?"

        "What? Oh yeah give me a min to pack up my things." I had been so distracted by my own thoughts that i hadn't realized i agreed to go out to lunch with Dylan and Ashley. At lunch i made sure to seem happy. i don't think he fell for it that much but he stopped giving me the guilty look. That night when i got home i made sure to avoid my father fearing things could get worse than the night before. I hate to think it could get any worse but he didn't have his usual amount of alcohol. I made sure to keep Emily in my room, i asked how the make up worked on the bruise.

        "It worked until P.E. I got sweaty and the make up smeared onto my shirt and I had to go to the bathroom to change my shirt because i couldn't in the locker room in case someone saw the bruise."

        "OK but no one saw your back? I don't think mom can handle all the questions that we will get."

        "i don't think so i mean i was really careful and i still played in P.E. to cover up it hurt but i got used to it."

        "OK you can stay in here while i go help cook dinner my laptop is over there you can play on it and tonight you can sleep in my room. Make sure you don't step in the corner over there the wood is so thin if you step in the wrong spot you can fall straight through"

        Helping my mom with dinner was even more awkward she was talking as if dad didn't have a drunken rampage last night. This is the first time he smacked person under that wasn't a legal adult. She was saying things like i hope your dad likes dinner tonight I'm making his favorite, or maybe sometime we can go on a family trip to Florida or something. She is delirious i mean he just struck her 13 year old daughter. All she was trying to do is show him the picture she drew in class but he was to drunk and frustrated to even tell her to be quiet he just smacked her and i watched as her skinny, fragile 4 9 body fell to the ground with a light thud. I threw my body to her side as Jacob moved him to the wall so i could carry her to her room. She had a bruise on her back from falling and hitting part of the table she also had a small barely noticeable bruise on her face just above her cheek. She had fallen asleep in my arms crying.  Now my mom is talking like we are some kind of rich family that is perfectly normal. We are anything but normal my family doesn't even eat dinner together and my siblings stay with their friends on campus just to get away.

        "Mom what are you going to do about Dad? Hmm he struck Emily. Shes just a child. She s a frightened little girl, afraid of people seeing her bruises, changing in the locker room, people judging her, making friends, hanging out with people, going in public, being rejected, messing up because of the reaction, talking to anyone because her father's habits might slip out, being afraid to even speak to her own father. Do you know how hard it i for a 13 year old girl not to be able to hang out with her Friends, or have friends over?" She started to interrupt her but i interjected, "His problems have an affect on all of us but as she is growing up how do you explain to her that her father abuses her mother and children and now her. How do you plan on describing the fact that they have no control over how much their father drinks or what he does to their family? This isn't a safe home for them, its not a safe home for anyone as long as he lives here its hell for anyone who is within 50 miles of his whiskey bottle."  I felt sorry for raising my voice to her but i knew it had to be said. She looked at me like I just called God the devil, I looked at the carrots i was waiting for her to respond but i didn't want to look at her in case she responded. She sat there for 10 minuets without speaking, processing how she was going to respond to me.

        "I am not going to discuss this with you. I think dinner is almost done you can go to your room."  I didn't object to this I quickly climbed up the creaky wooden stairs that lead to my room. I was about to throw new clothes i grabbed on my way to my room at Emily but then i saw she was dead asleep. I knew i couldn't wake her she was calm, at peace, gentle, innocent, she...... was a child. As I sat there staring at this little girl, the angry flowed throughout my entire body.

         How could someone do this? What leads a person to do this? Why couldn't he just give a crap? Why couldn't he just listen to her? Why couldn't he just look at the paper? Why didn't my mom stop him? Why won't she stop him? Why won't he stop himself from drinking? Why does he have to hit? Why won't she stop buying him the alcohol? Why won't he apologize? What is he going to do tonight? Will he drink? Will he hit? Will he look for Emily? Will he care about what he did? Will he do it again? Will she say anything to him? Will she ever speak up? Will he ever stop? Will she ever fight back? How far will he go? How much will he drink? When will he become drunk? When will she take away the bottles? When will he see Emily? When will he be able to get help? Does he even want help? Does he want to get better? Does he want to do this to us? Does he ever feel remorse? Does he enjoy what he does? Why doesn't he stop? Why doesn't he leave? As these dark thoughts cover my head like a storm clouds cover the sky I fade into a sleep that I promise no one should ever go into. For it is far to dark for your typical human being to see through.

                Lucky for me..........I'm not your typical human being.