Incomplete

Incomplete chapter 14

Incomplete: Fourteen.

     He walked into sight just then, looking sweaty and out-of-it.

     "Hey, dad," I smiled at him nervously. One of his eyes drooped slightly, but his other pierced me sternly.

     "Diddd ii hearrr voiss-usss?" He slurred.

     "Nope, just me, daddy," the lie slipped off my tongue with ease.

     I could tell he wasn't buying it, but his judgment was so off he couldn't process what was going on. I didn't know if that would be good or bad, so i waited in silence, not daring to move.

     "Yerrr motherr called mee," his words lengthened as he tried to voice them out clearly.

     I nodded uneasily.

     "Somethinn 'bout gettin' sssussspendedd?"

     I nodded again.

     He flushed with anger and i broke into a sweat, but i still didn't move. Whatever was to come, i deserved it...right? He wouldn't hurt me unless i deserved it. He was my dad. He loved me.

     Right?

     "Youuu...youuu..." his face began to turn red, and i closed my eyes, waiting.

     When the blow didn't come, i opened them. He held his position, then asked, "Wherree'sss yerr motherr noww?"

     I pointed to the room where the TV was still on, blasting. He stumbled over to it and turned up the volume, eyeing his wife wearily. She mumbled something and turned over, but didn't wake up. I saw him smirk and his eyes lost a small piece of sanity - probably the only sanity left in his intoxicated state. And i knew what was going to happen.

     He clomped clumsily back over to me, taking his time as he did so. I couldn't help but stumble my way backwards until i hit the wall, unvoiced fear screaming through my eyes. But he didn't care. He just didn't care.

     I saw his hand raise, and i closed my eyes tightly. A loud slap, and my face twisted to the right as my left cheek began to sting.

     A large hand shoved it's way through my already tangled hair and grasped my head. He pushed it up and demanded, "Openn yerr eyesss!"

     I did as told, and stared back into his cold eyes. He was angry at more than just me, i could tell. Even he wasn't this bad when it was just me. He hasn't done this in such a long time, probably because i'm usually asleep, or because mom is around. She would never allow this. But he always told me to keep it was secret from her...and i always did.

     He smirked, then thrusted my head towards him, and back at the wall. My ears popped at the sound, and i could feel my eyes welling up. I bit my lip, willing myself to restrain them. Crying made it worse. It made him feel worse. And this was about making him feel better. How he could feel better doing a thing like this, i could never understand...right? But what i had done...was it really any different from what he's doing now?

     Sure, i had a reason. It was that boy's goal to get me mad at him - to get me to take a swing. But i had felt good about it - about hurting another person. It made me satisfied. Was i really becoming this inhuman man before me?

     He took a step closer to me, still grinning. I could smell the whiskey on his breath...why whiskey? Why didn't he ever drink anything else? I hated this smell. It made me want to throw up more and more every time. I just couldn't stand it.

     A punch to my gut, and a content grunt from my old man. I doubled over and felt a knee pierce my stomach in the same spot. My eyes closed and i bit my lip harder to keep from screaming. I could taste something on my lip...metal? Blood?