The rain poured in torrents outside, the angry sound of thunder drowned the crash as they followed one after the other. My father is drunk again. Ellen is hiding upstairs, while I crouch in the kitchen cabinet.
He must be looking for me. Itās been like this ever since mom left. He drinks, comes home and takes it out on me. Iām two months over eighteen but I canāt leave because Ellen isnāt yet. I canāt bear to think what he would do to her. She is only twelve.
Another crash and his slurs reach my ears. We live deep in the woods, in a cabin built by my fatherās hands. Mom told me that she helped too but not very much as she was pregnant with me and my father wouldnāt let do any hard work. I find it hard to picture my father as a loving man. I have never experienced it.
āCome out you little shit! Where the fuck are you? Itās all your fault. You just had to be born. Your stupid mother didnāt listen to me to get rid of you.ā
Crash!
āNo. She wanted a family. A fucking family huh?ā He laughed. It was empty and evil.
āI gave her a family and what does she do? She fucks the next guy that looks at her. What a waste.ā
I hear a thump and a groan before silence. The rain continues. I wait, straining my ears over the pounding of my heart. I wait a heartbeat, two, three and then I slowly push open the small wooden frame. Our worn down kitchen is empty of the man in question.
I crawled out, as quietly as I could, and peeked into the living room. The couch blocks my vision but I donāt hear him anymore. The stairs are just up ahead, and if my luck hasnāt run out, my dad is passed out.
A quick check confirms my suspicions and relief fills my lungs. I donāt think I can take another beating tonight. My body still aches from the last one.
I walked towards the stairs, ignoring my father who is face down on the rug, and everything else around me most especially the pain. It is blinding, but I ignore it. I ignore it until my hair is yanked so hard and I am thrown against the wall.
āYou fucking shit! Where did you think you were going, hmm?ā
āDad please,ā
I know it doesnāt matter. I have pleaded countless times in the past but I still beg. I beg because Iām pathetic. Iām weak. Iām tired. I want nothing more than to breathe. But I donāt deserve to, do I? Maybe thatās why I donāt make a sound when his boot comes in contact with my side. When he grabs me by the hair and drags me across the room, saying vile things Iād rather not repeat, not a sound comes out of me. Like a big girl, I take it.
I know what comes next, my face. I try to protect it but he is stronger, and bigger. The contact shatters whatever resolve I had and a scream rips from my throat, guttural and grainy.
He lifts his hand one more time and halts abruptly just as lightning strikes. Through my rapidly swelling eye under the dim lighting, I saw it. The garden rake is in my fatherās side and heās still. Time is still as he turns to look at my sister who holds the handle, looking straight at him.
Once again, lightning strikes and I see her.
āYou mother-ā he begins but groans immediately after followed by the unmistakable sound of weapon against flesh. She pushes harder and twists it, spurting blood with her actions until my father falls off me, the garden rake still stuck to his side.
It goes silent again. The rain has slowed to a trickle, thunder rumbles in the distance.
I sit up with my back against the couch just as the lights come back on for me to get a good look at my sister. Sheās fixed on him, her face is devoid of any emotion. I canāt read what is happening. Shock?
āEllenā I called and she responds, her head slowly turned to look at me. She crosses the room and crouches in front of me and says,
āI donāt want to go to a foster home.ā
āYou wonāt. Iām eighteen.ā
Silence passes between us.
āWhat do we do now?ā She asks
Maybe she is still in shock. She is acting so normal. I catch a glimpse of my father who has no doubt bled to death or will soon,
āI canāt move right now. When I can, Iāll take care of it.ā
āBury him behind the house. No need to go too far. Itās just us in this nowhere anyway.ā She says dismissively and I nod.
A bout of silence passes between us and the next thing I know, my sister gets up and climbs back up the stairs, leaving me in the living room with the body of our father. Did Iā¦ create a monster?
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Oh my God, this is a beautiful story. He deserves what he got, I need the part two please š¤
Thank you šš¾ no part two lol
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Beautiful. Dark, raw and beautiful. As it should be.š¤
Thank you šš¾
Your story is very interesting. A dysfunctional family where one day everything gets out of control and ends tragically.
Thanks for sharing your story with us.
Excellent day.
Thank you so much for reading
What a harrowing tale of an evil father who got what was coming to him, but at what price? It's a grim and well written story.
Thank you šš¾