I fall asleep there. My chest hurts when I wake up. It is dark and everything is quiet. I try to move and get up but everything is stiff. I can hear my dad. He bangs and swears and then he comes up the stairs. He bangs into my room. He makes me jump because he can't stand properly. He is drunk. “Downstairs,” he says to me. But I don’t want to go past him and he stands at the doorway. I know he is going to hit me. Maybe he will do it hard.
I don’t stand. I don’t want him to get me. I crawl to the door, and then I try to squeeze past him, but he kicks me in the side and it makes me cough and cry. “Take your clothes off,” he says to me, but I shake my head. He tries to reach down and grab my hair, but he misses. He puts his bottle down on the floor. It is one of his wine bottles. He reaches down, and then he grabs me and pulls me up. “Dining room,” he says to me. He pushes me and I nearly fall down the stairs, but I catch myself, and then I go down them fast and out of his way.
He follows me down. He is shouting and swearing. “Your mother was right,” he says. “You really were a bad child all along. I should have listened to her.” I don’t stop him when he pushes me. I don’t stop him when he pulls my pants down and his own. I don’t stop him when he has sex with me, and it hurts so bad because he is angry with me. He puts his fist in my back while he does it and he swears at me about how bad I am. I try to count. I wish I could go away.
When he is finished, I pull my pants back up, and then I lean against the wall. The tears go down my face, and I don’t wipe them away. My mum is dead and it’s my fault.
My mum is dead and it’s my fault. I say it in my head so many times. It makes me cry. My dad has pulled his pants up. He smacks me across the face. “Don’t you dare cry,” he shouts at me. I try not to. I try to hold it all inside. I hold my breath so I don’t cry. It makes me shake and I can't help it.
He hits me over and over. My nose bleeds and my mouth hurts. I try to make it go away. I slide down the wall away from him, but he smacks me, and my head hits the edge of the window ledge. “I said stop crying.”
I hug myself when I am down on the floor. I wish he would stop. Maybe he can make me die too, and then it won’t matter. I lean against the radiator and my dad tries to hit me again, I put my arms up above my head so he can't. He hits me many times. He swears at me.
The dining room door opens, and my dad stops. It is my brother. He is crying too. He says he has been sick in his bed. It makes my dad madder. My dad shouts at him so loud until his voice is scratchy, and it makes him cough. He hates us kids, he says. My brother says he is sorry. He didn’t mean it. My dad runs over to my brother and then he hits him really hard and he falls over. He cries very loud about it. He cries because he wants my mum too. My dad tells him it is tough. “She isn’t around anymore.” He hits him again, and my brother curls up to make it stop.
I shout at my dad; I tell him to stop. I try to get up, but I don’t want to make him mad at me again. But I don’t want him to hit my brother. He is just ten and he is little. He has wet his pants too. I can see it where he curls up.
“Stop it,” I shout at my dad. He does, and my brother tries to get up, but my dad pushes him hard and he falls into the lounge. Then my dad stops. He starts to cry. I haven’t seen him really cry before. He goes into the lounge, and then he falls on the sofa and puts his head in his hands. He cries very loud too. I don’t move. My brother doesn’t move. We watch my dad for a long time.
I just let the tears go down my face. I don’t cry like my dad. I just lie there until my dad falls to sleep. I crawl to my brother and I give him a hug. I tell him he has to go to bed. I hug him very hard to make his crying go away. But it doesn’t. It makes me cry too. I try not to lie on him. My dad is still sleeping when my brother starts to be sleepy too. I don’t take him upstairs. I put a cushion under his head, and I get a blanket off the sofa and put it on him.
I leave him on the floor and go to the garage. I know my dad doesn’t want me there. I get my dad’s petrol and smell it until I go to sleep too.
Seventy Two
It’s been a week since my mum died. Everything feels strange to me. I keep thinking that she is going to be there. When I walk in the kitchen, I expect her there, or when I walk in the lounge and look at the empty space by the fire. She isn’t anywhere. I don’t know why she isn’t there. It doesn’t feel like she died. Nothing else changed. Just she isn’t here anymore.
I close my eyes sometimes and try to think about the crash. I can hear it. It’s so loud when the blue car hits ours, then I can't remember. Just the man talking to me. I didn’t see my mum because he didn’t let me.
When I go to school and sit in the class, or the teachers talk to me and ask me if I am okay, I tell them I am. Why do they keep asking me? My mum isn’t dead; she just isn’t at home. I don’t understand it. I walk away when they ask me. I don’t want to talk about it. They all look sad and have that stupid voice people do when something is ‘aww’ and so cute. It makes me want to smack them in the mouth and tell them to shut up. Don’t they realise how stupid they sound?
When I am at home, I feel like I am invisible. My brother lies on the sofa. Sometimes he cries. He says mum, and then he remembers, and he cries again. If my dad is there, he looks at me with his red, drunk eyes and tells me to look at what I did. I just leave and go to the garage. I sleep in there. Then my dad leaves me alone. Except when he remembers I am there. Every night, he remembers at some time, then he comes in. I don’t argue with whatever he wants. Once he's had sex with me, he leaves.
Luckily, because my mum has died, I don’t have to do all my lessons. My grades are so shit I can use that time to catch up. I'm glad. I don’t catch up, though, I just read. But with no PE, no one sees the marks from my dad. I can cover it all away and no one notices. I'm the creepy creature in the corner with my book and black coat, so no one sees anything. Only Lewis talks to me. Sometimes, I wish even he would shut up. I don’t tell him, though. He sits with me and passes me a cigarette, and then we don’t talk. He tries to, but I have nothing to say to anyone.
My dad needs to shave; his face is all full of his stubble. He looks like a tramp. He hasn’t even showered. All he does is get drunk and shout. The house is a mess too. When he is asleep, I put the cans and bottles outside, and I sneak in and make some food. I make it for my brother. It is just stuff from tins, but he can eat it. Then, we wash the dishes and put them away, and my dad doesn’t know I have been inside the house. Then, I go back to the garage and read or sniff the petrol and wait until he has woken enough to remember I am there.
Yesterday, I was such an idiot. I sniffed the petrol too long and fell right to sleep. I didn’t even feel what my dad did. I didn’t know he had come in until I woke from the pain of it. I use the bathroom in the garage to clean myself up and wash away the blood.
Rachel came around to see me, but I didn’t want to say anything to her, either. We just sat outside on the edge of the kerb, but we didn’t talk. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her I was living in the garage, and it was my fault about my mum. She told me her mum was sorry about my mum. I told her to tell her mum thank you, but maybe my mum isn’t really gone.
I smell her sometimes; her perfume. And then I turn around and look, and she isn’t there. I just need to wake up. When I do, she will be there again. When I think about it, it makes my chest hurt, and then I can't breathe again. I don’t believe she is dead. She can't be. She is my mum.
I talk to Michelle on the phone, but I haven’t seen her. I don’t want to in case my dad gets mad at my brother. He’s too small when my dad gets drunk and wants to hit him. Then he cries for our mum, but she doesn’t come, and it is my fault.
It is my mum’s funeral today. It feels strange to say it. My dad has been drinking. I think he is drunk already. My Nan came around, and we all got changed into black clothes. We have to go to the church. My dad isn’t driving, so we are going to get a taxi there. We get there before everyone - even my mum. No one is there. Maybe
she isn’t dead.
My dad stands with my brother, and my Nan stands at the side waiting. She tries to talk to me, but I don’t want to. I make her cry because I killed my mum. I move away so I am behind them all. I lean on the wall and look at my feet. I wish it was me that was being buried today.
The hearse comes around the corner. I stare at it. It has my mum inside, but I can't see her. She is in the coffin. It is brown and wood and shiny. It has gold handles on the side. Maybe she is asleep. Maybe she is scared. It stops next to us, and I go over to it. I put my hand on the glass. It is cold. I wish I could tell my mum I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make her mad.
I feel sick inside, and I can't make it go away. I can't make my mum come back. I made her go away. Why didn’t I just go to school? It catches in my throat, but I don’t cry. I can't cry. Then my dad will say it is my fault; I did it. He is right. I know. He says it all the time. I made her go away.
My mum gets carried into the church. I sit at the back of everyone. I don’t want to sit near people. They look at me. They know I did it. After we have listened and sung songs and said prayers, my mum gets put back in the hearse, and we have to follow. My brother and dad and Nan go in the big black car. I know I am not allowed in it. I hide at the back, and then my Nan doesn’t see. When it drives away, I stand at the kerb and watch it.
There are people from my mum’s church there. “Do you want to come with us?” one of them says to me. I don’t really, but I have to. I don’t like him. It makes me think about being tied to the table and then they made it hurt. I don’t like his face. I remember all the blood and lots of things that make me feel very sick inside. I don’t want him to touch me. He smiles with yellow teeth, and he smells like old cigarettes. He did lots of things at the church. But I get in the car. I sit next to him, and I try to hug myself tight so I don’t touch him.
There are flowers on top of my mum’s coffin. They say mum. My brother wrote a card to put in them. I looked at my dad, and then he looked at me, and I knew I wasn’t allowed to write one. I didn’t ask. That’s what happens when you kill your mum. You don’t get to say goodbye. I wish I could tell her I am sorry. I wish I could make her come back. I didn’t mean to do it.
When we get to the cemetery, I don’t walk with my dad. My Nan walks behind them, and I walk behind her. I look at the ground. I cry because I made everything bad. My Nan cries. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make her sad. Maybe she will hate me like everyone else. Maybe she will think I am disgusting because me and my dad have sex.
The vicar says nice things about my mum. We have to throw rose petals on her coffin. We get them from a basket and then we pass it around. I don’t look when I throw them. I don’t want to see the people looking at me. I don’t want them to know what I did and that I am bad and evil.
When it is finished and we go back to my dad’s house, I sit on my chair in the dining room and don’t move. I know I am not allowed to. I am not even allowed in the house really. When everyone goes away, I will go back outside to the garage. My dad has his whiskey, and he sits on the sofa with his friend. My Nan makes everyone drinks and talks to people. She tries to talk to me too, but I tell her to go away. I don’t want to.
I sit there all day until my legs go numb and my feet feel fat. My Nan sees everyone out and says goodbye to them. She says thank you for coming. She does the washing up when they are all gone. My dad has fallen asleep on the sofa. My Nan hugs my brother. When she tries to hug me, I turn away so she can't see me. She tells me I should go to bed. But I don’t answer her. I don’t say anything at all. Maybe I can pretend she isn’t there, and then she’ll go away.
She sighs because I don’t answer. She has to go home. She calls a taxi and then she goes. She asks me to please go to bed. She kisses the top of my head. I don’t let her see that I cry. I’m sorry I made her so sad. I try to keep it inside. But it makes my face scrunch up and my bottom lip shake.
My dad wakes up when my Nan goes away. I hug myself tight. He is going to be mad because I am in the house, but it is cold outside. I know I should have gone to the garage. He doesn’t say any words to me. He is mad right away. He walks and then he hits me his hardest and I fall off the chair. I don’t get up, but I hug myself and try to cover my head. But he doesn’t let me. He grabs my arms and makes me stand. Then he hits me again. I tell him I am sorry. He hits me and I can't breathe because he does it fast.
I try to get away, but he pushes me and I nearly fall over. He pushes me with both hands towards the lounge. I try to put my hands out to stop him, but he doesn’t. I beg him to stop it. “Please dad, I'm sorry,” I say to him, but he swears at me.
“Fuck off,” he says to me, and then he hits me hard again and I fall backwards. I try to catch myself, but I can't. I fall into the glass on the door, and he pushes me again. The glass breaks and cracks, and I go right through it. I land on the floor with the glass. It hurts so bad. I try to get up, but my dad comes through the broken door and presses me down onto the glass. I ask him to stop, but he doesn’t. I try to push him off, but he is bigger than me, and he holds me down.
He gets up after, and then he drags me to stand up too. He digs his hands into my arms. It hurts real bad, but I don’t say anything. Maybe if I shut up, then he will stop. He pushes me away and walks up the stairs.
Seventy Three
I watch as he goes up the stairs. Maybe he is going to bed. I can hear him banging upstairs, though. I start to pick the glass up. My back hurts and my hands are cut too. I cry because I don’t know what I am supposed to do. Maybe I should go to the garage and leave it all. Maybe I should stay inside. I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. I try to make the crying stop. I hold my breath, anything that makes the tears go away, but they don’t.
My dad comes back downstairs. I hug myself tight in case he is going to hit me again. But he doesn’t. He walks past me and then I hear the front door bang open. He does it so hard it makes the house shake. I can hear lots of bangs and swearing. I try to look through the glass door to the hallway, but I can't see.
Then my dad comes back in and goes back upstairs and then comes down again. He has my things. My books, my pictures, my clothes. He storms past me again, and then he throws them outside onto the ground as hard as he can. I hear some of the things break. My hands shake when I try to pick up the glass off the floor. I bite my lip, and then I don’t say anything or cry. But it happens anyway.
My dad does it a few times. Then he comes down with my school bag, and he throws it at me. “Get out,” he says to me. I don’t move. I don’t know what I am supposed to do. He stands at the door. I am scared he might hit me when I walk past him.
He takes two big steps towards me. I grab the broken door next to me. He hits me fast. I didn’t know he was going to do it. I fall over and let go of the frame. I fall backwards and land on the floor. My nose is bleeding again. My whole face is sore; it feels like it is fat and swollen. I try to wipe the blood away, but my dad steps over me and then he yanks me up by my jacket. I try to grab the door again, but my dad is stronger than me, and he drags me to the front door, and then he pushes me outside into the rain. I try to grab many things, but he pulls my hands off. I land on my things, he closes the door.
I don’t move at all. I watch the door. Maybe he will come back. Maybe he didn’t mean it. I crawl to the step and sit there and lean against the door. I hear my dad go into the back garden. I hear him go to the garage. I hear him lock the gate so I can't get back in. I hug my knees up. It is cold. The lights go out in the house. My dad is going to bed. I'm sorry I made my mum die. I miss her so bad.
I roll onto my side and cry. I cry very hard, and I can't make it stop. It makes me have hiccups. But no one is around, and no one can hear. When the crying is all finished, and my face hurts and it’s all puffed up, I get my things and stuff them in the bag my dad gave me. I don’t put it all in; it doesn’t fit. I put the rest on the step so it doesn’t get too wet. Maybe my dad can put them back inside.
&
nbsp; I don’t know where I am supposed to go, but I know I can't go into the garage. My dad knows I go in there, he will check even if I climb over.
My nose is blocked from the bleeding. I have to breathe through my mouth. I have bits of glass in my hands. I try to pick them out. I don’t remember getting them. I have some in my back too. I pick those out. I go out of the driveway and stand at the kerb. I think about going to Michelle’s house, but then she will know my dad doesn’t want me. I could go to my Nan’s, but then I have to tell her it is all my fault, and she won’t want me too.
I just walk. I don’t know where to. It doesn’t matter. The night is forever and very long. I walk along the road that is next to the golf course. It is very dark there. I am too scared to go all the way to in. I hear a car coming. I run to a garden and pretend that I live there so they don’t stop and don’t take me back to my dad.
I walk near school and down the hill. My mum is just there. I don’t know why I go to the graveyard. It’s just the way I walk. I stand at the gates and look inside. I am not scared of graveyards. My mum lies in there. She is all alone and it is raining. She doesn’t like the rain. It makes her scared when it is loud. We put the television on so she can't hear it. The storms make her scared too. I hope she isn’t scared all there by herself.
I don’t go into the graveyard. I tell my mum I am sorry for what I did. I go to the bus shelter just outside. It smells like pee and beer. It makes me want to be sick. My mouth opens and I retch, but I am not sick. At least the bus shelter is dry. I sit in it against one of the walls in the corner. I hope no one see me. The walls are green and dark.
Goodbye Teddy Page 32