Antiquities: A Short Story Collection

Jinger

Gradie

The rain hit the ground hard, running in small rivers down the street and across the sidewalk.

"Get out!" My dad all but threw me out the door.

"Fine!" I flinched away at his hand clutching the collar of my shirt. The door slammed behind me and I felt it shake the old porch. I shivered. There was a steady patter of rain crashing into the gutters. Standing on the porch for a minute, I tried to think of my next move.

My dad's paranoia was worse by the day. Today he accused me of stealing money. Last week, he convinced himself I was using or selling drugs. He tore my room apart and interrogated all my teachers and classmates looking for proof. He'd even asked my boss. I ended up losing my job. People at school distanced themselves from me even more.

I did my best to be patient stay calm when he started yelling, but I couldn't do it anymore. He had no trust in me. He didn't respect my space, or my things, or me. The fighting had gotten worse since my mom left.

She said she needed a break, whether from me or my dad I didn't know. Tomorrow or even later tonight my dad would find the misplaced money. Or remember where he put it and apologize. He expected me to forget all the horrible things he said and the fact that he out. This wasn't the first time. Then the cycle would start again. I'm sure mom had figured it out too. I knew she wasn't coming back.

Goosebumps raised on my arms. It varied, how long I'd be stuck on the porch or wherever I decided to wait out my banishment. The door opened behind me and I groaned.

"Gradie," his tone firm, "I found the money. Come on back inside. Let's have a talk."

"No." I could feel pressure building behind my eyes. I don't know if it was the humiliation or if he'd finally pushed me too far.

"What?" My dad leaned an arm over the threshold. I couldn't have gotten past him anyway. He stood before me like a cocky prison guard who hated his job but the pay was too good to quit.

"You're not going to apologize?" My breath came faster. My dad stared at me like I was crazy. I couldn't stop myself. "You blame me for everything. You had no proof and you treated me like shit anyway."

"That's not true." He shook his head. "You couldn't prove you didn't take it."

"That's not how it's supposed to work!" I was shouting now. It rang in my chest and I was afraid he might hit me. His jaw flexed and the muscles jumped in his arms.

"I don't know why you're blowing this out of proportion. You're making a scene. I said you could come back inside, why are you acting so childish?" I jumped back as he reached out to lay a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not."

"Get inside." He barked and it made me jump. "I don't need the neighbors thinking you're crazy." he took step towards me and I took off, flying from the porch and sprinting over the walkway.

My ragged shoes sloshed in the wet grass and drenched my socks on contact. Thunder crashed over me and I couldn't make out what my dad was shouting after me. When I was sure he didn't follow me, I slowed to catch my breath. Sheets of rain roared down around me.

My clothes were heavy, drooping off my frame and flush to my skin. Hives were forming on my bare arms. I could see my breath. My glasses were useless now so I took them off and swiped hair out of my face.

"Fuck." I pressed a palm to my eyes, hopelessness built in my stomach and I wanted to just crouch down and cry.

Lightening flashed in my peripherals. I was freezing my ass off and hadn't thought this through at all. I knew if I didn't assert myself then and there, I would have fallen back into my dad's cycle. The thought of it alone made me shake. I couldn't live under his thumb anymore. Now that he knew it too, there was no going back. I'd opened the flood gates.