I was strongly beginning to believe that he didn’t have any real reason for hating me other than the fact that it was somehow amusing for him.
Whatever, with everything else going on in my life, he was the last thing I wanted to be worrying about.
I shook my head and ignored his comment, fully prepared to continue on with my run, when his next words halted my steps.
“He’s only with you because he feels sorry for you,” he said confidently. The sinister smile on his face made my stomach wrap around itself. “Guys like him always go for the broken girls because it keeps things interesting but eventually the drama gets old. I’ll be the person cheering on the sidelines when he finally realizes that you’re not worth that drama.”
I didn’t give him the satisfaction by reacting. I just continued like he hadn’t said a thing. But I’d be lying if I said his words hadn’t struck a chord. Of course, they had. I was human, and the words he spewed were what had been building in the back of my mind since Bren had found out about my deep, dark demons. But we all had demons, right? Some were more visible and dominant than others, while some lingered quietly in the corner, only making appearances when times absolutely called for it. Mine were the latter. They always had been and they always would be, and I had grown to accept that. But what if Bren couldn’t? I didn’t trust easily but with him, he made everything so easy that I now trusted him completely. He made everything brighter, and I never wanted to lose that. But what if I didn’t have a choice?
I shook the glooming thoughts from my mind and focused on pushing myself harder. My legs threatened to give out, but I continued to push myself, allowing the ache in my limbs to distract from the ache in my soul.
I knew the fight to stay wasn’t going to be easy, but was life really worth the fight? I was growing tired. It felt like I had been treading water for as long as I had been breathing and now my movements had slowed, just barely keeping my head above water long enough to catch quick breaths in between. I wanted to float, but I knew I’d drown if I tried. I wanted to reach solid ground. The only question was: how?
As I stood at the end of the path that lead to my childhood house, I didn’t have an answer. Fear froze my movements and quickened my breath, but I was strong. The fact that I was still living after everything I had gone through was evidence of that. I would be free soon. Once I completely erased myself from this place and moved my things, I would be free. I hoped for that, but I knew the steps to get there wouldn’t be easy.
I noted the lack of cars in the driveway and breathed a sigh of relief. I would get in, get out, call Mace for a ride, and be free. It was simple.
Get in.
Get out.
Call Mace for a ride.
Be free.
“You can do this,” I said, encouraging myself.
I can do this.
I walked up the long path leading to the house and used the spare key hidden under the welcome mat to unlock the door.
Chills spread throughout my body, but I ignored their warning and continued into the house. I stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind me. There were no movements and I listened for sounds of life but when I heard nothing, I walked to my room. A part of me expected to see my father waiting inside the room for me, but like the rest of the house, it was thankfully empty.
I started the quick process of packing my things and hoped between then and the time I was done that no one would come home. But that was wishful thinking. I knew better than to hold out hope for something like that.
In record time, I had a duffle bag packed so full that the zipper barely closed it completely and a box of random trinkets and photos I wanted with me always. Everything else was just stuff I didn’t need. I wasn’t attached to much and the stuff that did have importance to me were already at Maci’s place.
I walked out of my room, box balanced beneath my arm and strap slung across my shoulder, prepping a text to send to Maci when a heavy hand pressed against my shoulder and shoved me into the side wall.
Air whooshed out of me and I struggled to catch my breath and the both I held beneath my arm fell along with my phone, hitting the floor with a loud thud. It was déjà vu. I had been in this position many times before.
My mind struggled to play catch up as my eyes landed on a pair that matched my own, only they were rimmed red with purple bags beneath.
I opened my mouth to scream, but when his hand covered my mouth, I knew it was a useless attempt. How many times had I screamed before only to be answered back with silence? It was a useless attempt, and I should have known better.
I should. Have. Known.
He leaned his face into mine and pressed his hand harder against my mouth.
“You shouldn’t have come back here,” my father breathed against my face. The stench of alcohol in his breath made me want to gag.
Of course, he was drunk. Sober days were few and far, while days filled with amber liquid were all the norm. I was slightly disappointed at his lack of sobriety but not surprised. He had no one but my mother and her support was nonexistent. My heart hurt for him, for the man standing in front of me who was broken beyond repair. I wanted to help him, but if history had taught me anything that wasn’t something that could ever happen. Not with the current predicament he was constantly in.
It hit me then that I felt sorry for my father. He had no one, and though that was his own doing, I couldn’t help but feel a little responsible.
His hand moved from my mouth to my neck and I was brought out of my thoughts.
“I just came to back my things,” I whispered quickly.
He looked annoyed. “It’s your fault they locked me away. You’re the reason those doctors treated me like some sort of crazy person. It took me weeks to convince them that I was a changed man. Do you know how difficult that is or what that does to someone Daysie?”
I shook my head, not knowing how to respond.
His fingers lightly gripped my neck. “Well, do ya?!”
“No,” I croaked weekly. “But you needed help. You still do.”
“You don’t tell me what I need, do you hear? I am your father and you are nothing but a worthless child. I didn’t even want you but your mom said it would be in poor taste to abort you, so here you are, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret keeping you.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. I tried to blink them away, but it was futile.
He laughed, and disgust contorted his features. “Weak. That’s all you’ve ever been.”
He tore the duffle bag from around my body and tossed it aside. “You don’t deserve to take anything from this house. I paid for them. Everything you have is because of you.”
With each word he spat, sprinkles of spit littered my face and my cheeks, mingling with the wet tears that continued to fall full force. His words were laced with anger and hatred, and I knew he meant every word he was saying. His actions had proven them to be true since the day he first started to abuse me.
“Okay.” I conceded. “I won’t take any of this. Just let me leave. Please.”
His lips sneered and he shook his head in disdain. “You need to be taught a lesson, little girl. The last time I was interrupted but there’s no one here to stop me this time.”
I shook my head rapidly. “Please just let me go.”
My voice was thick with fear. It only made him angrier. His eyes darkened and his he pulled his arm back to deliver a blow to my face.
His closed fist connected with my cheek and I fought to catch my breath, pleading with him to stop. He didn’t. His fist came again. And again. And soon I was laying on the ground with him on top of me, gripping my wrists as I thrashed beneath him.
It was then I screamed. The wind had been knocked out of me but I screamed at the top of my lungs and shoved as hard as I could to get him off me.
Still, he didn’t let up.
I drifted into darkness, welcoming its comfort. I had no one to save me this time. No
one but myself, but I wasn’t sure I could save me. He was too strong, too powerful. Even drunk, he had an advantage over me.
When the darkness decided to push me back into the light I knew I’d be forced back into the pain, but until then, I was going to bask in the nothingness it brought, if even for a few moments.
I opened my eyes to a darkened hallway. I must have been out for a while. I blinked slowly, the vision in my left eye blurrier than my right. I reached up to touch the swollen skin around it and hissed from the pain.
My whole face ached. Tears threatened to spill again, but I forced them back. There wasn’t any time for that. I could break down later, but I needed to fight. As badly as it hurt and as easy as it would be to give in and let go, never looking back, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Flashes of Bren’s dimple invaded my mind, followed by Maci and Sarah’s obnoxious laughter.
I had them to live for. They were my constants.
But I needed to live for myself. I needed to fight for me. And I would. Starting now.
My father walked over to me and kicked at my legs. “Look who finally decided to wake up. You don’t look so well, Daysie.”
I narrowed my eyes up at him. “You’re a vile person.”
He smirked and spat at me, kneeling on his knees to get in my face. “Watch your tone little girl before I shut you up. Did you like that little nap?”
With my arms against my sides, I used one of my hand to subtly search for my cell phone. Once I found it, I quietly began pressing any keys I could. Thankfully, having grown attached to my phone, I could navigate it blindfolded, which I basically was.
“You won’t get away with this,” I said, trying to distract him from seeing what I was doing.
“I can and I will,” he said, sounding more confident than he should.
Once I was confident that I had called Maci, who I knew would immediately call for help, I slowly released the phone. She was the easiest to call since she was who I was trying to contact before. I only hoped the screen hadn’t changed since the hit it took to the ground.
Out of the corner of my eye I could make out the box that had fallen. The contents in it had spilled onto the floor. I tried to hide my relief when I spotted the wooden daisy Maci and Sarah had given me for Christmas one year.
My father’s knee pressed into my abdomen as he leaned further into me. I took slow breaths in and out of my nose, trying not to react to the pain he was causing, both emotionally and physically, every time he purposefully tried to hurt me. He was a father by sperm, but that was all, which is why my will to fight was even stronger.
I quickly reached for the wooden daisy, but just as my fingers brushed the surface, one of his hands tightened around my wrist while the other wrapped again around my neck. I tried to kick and shove beneath him but his weight was too overpowering.
I cried out in frustration, ignoring the shooting pain radiating from the wrist he gripped in his. He twisted and my cry turned into a scream as I felt my bones crack from his pressure.
“Is this what you wanted to happen Daysie?” He said, shoving me against the carpeted floor as he stood up and ran his hands through his hair in anger.
I brought my hand carefully against my chest and cradled my wrist, careful not to put any weight against it.
Tears fell freely from my eyes and the only thing I could focus on was the pain. He had gone further than he ever had and I was confused about it all.
I knew I had done nothing wrong, but I couldn’t help the questions floating through my mind, all of them pointing to me being in the wrong.
I ignored his curses and closed my eyes. The few good memories I had of our family from when I was a little girl played through like an old movie. It had been so long that the picture wasn’t clear, but the feeling was strong.
We had been happy, but somewhere along the way that happiness depleted to nothing.
I must have dozed off because a pair of hands gently pressed against my shoulders.
“Daysie?”
At the deep voice, my eyes flew open and fear threatened to take over.
“Daysie?” The voice asked again. It took me a moment to register than the gentle tone was a direct contrast of the hatred-filled tone I had been expecting.
I blinked a few times until the face in front of mine came into focus.
“Bren?” I asked quietly, worry, relief, and shock taking root. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He shook his head, his crystal blue eyes shining with tears. “He’s gone, Daysie.”
“What do you mean?” I asked quietly, mentally preparing myself for whatever news he was about to share.
“By the time I got here, he was gone.”
“Gone? As in he left?” I asked, shaking my head. “He wouldn’t just leave, Bren. There’s no way.”
I went to sit up but stopped, the throbbing pain in my wrist reminding me of the damage there.
“I think I broke my wrist,” I said, my voice breaking through my tears. “It hurts so much.”
“I know, Daysie, I know,” he said softly. “You’re safe here though, I promise.”
“Here?” I asked, confused.
I looked around, expecting to see the same hallway I had blacked out in, but instead I was surrounded by beeping machines, white walls, and even white sheets. I glanced at my wrist, noticing the cast that wrapped around it and up my fingers and palms.
I was in the hospital. But how?
I must have asked that question aloud because Bren gave an answer.
“You manage to call Maci and once she heard what was happening she called the cops, and then she called me,” he said, looking apologetic. “I am so sorry Daysie. I should have been there.”
“No,” I said, trying to sit up. “You shouldn’t have been. My father is a sick, twisted, abusive person, and if you were there it would have been worse. Not only for me, but for you too. And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything ever happened to you because of me.”
My mind flew back to Jason’s words.
“He’s only with you because he feels sorry for you.”
Pain pierced my heart.
“Guys like him always go for the broken girls because it keeps things interesting but eventually the drama gets old.”
I needed to quit while I was ahead.
“Daysie? Are you okay?” His fingers wrapped around my good hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, everything is good.” I promised. “Can you get the doctor for me? My wrist is really starting to hurt.”
“Yeah, of course. The police have been waiting to speak with you too.”
“They have?” A thought occurred. “Wait. How long have I been here?”
“Only a couple of days,” he said like it was no big deal. “You were pretty banged up and with all the pain meds they gave you it makes sense.”
“Right. Okay.”
I watched as he left the room and once he was out of sight I completely lost it.
When had this become my life?
I deserved better than this, and so did the people in my life. Graduation was right around the corner and even though I had no set plans for college, I would leave this town and find a place to escape to, even if that meant taking a year or so off. I mean, people did that. It wasn’t super abnormal. And at this point I really needed time for myself, to fix the broken parts of me that had been shattered by the people who were supposed to care and love me the most. I loved my friends and my feelings for Bren grew stronger every day, but they deserved better than what I could give them. Until I figured myself out, how could I give them the best of me when I wasn’t even sure that part still existed?
With a new dedication, I came up with a plan. A plan I hoped would save me in the end. It was my final option, and I planned on seeing it through.
I couldn’t do it anymore. I felt vulnerable and weak, so I decided to leave. It wasn’t an easy decision to make but it was one that I knew would be better for everyone
in the long run.
When Bren left to let everyone know I was awake, I realized that the people around me had been taking on my problems as their own. And I grew dependent on that. I knew that if ever I fell, they would all be there to pick me back up, just like they always had. But I wanted to be able to do that on my own, for myself. I wanted to find my own strength, and I couldn’t do that if they were constantly giving theirs.
So, I came up with a plan, one I knew no one else would agree with. Which is why I kept it hidden.
I answered questions and bared every truth I had, not holding anything back. After a lot of back and forth everyone decided on a plea, opting out of a trial, which I was thankful for. Having to constantly reiterate what I had been through was hard enough without a room full of people listening, judging, and deciding my father’s fate—and my own.
He went to prison and I went to a secluded town up north to find my own strength.
It didn’t happen overnight though. Once I made the decision to leave, it took a lot of planning on my part. The first was to graduate high school. Since I hadn’t applied to many, if any, universities, it made sense to take some time off. School could wait, it would always be there, but I wanted to find out who I was before I lost that girl completely.
Mace and Sarah both chose to attend schools near home, but since there were dozens of colleges in Southern California, they had their pick of schools. I was proud of them, and my heart ached when they talked about the fun we would all have as adults with almost unlimited freedom. I just smiled, agreed, and changed the topic.
They had no idea I was about to leave them. None of them did. Bren included. He was such a good guy that he believed my half-truth about being exhausted and needing to recover.
The next part of my plan required that I ask my mother for help, something I had avoided doing for a long time.
Even though my father was behind bars and couldn’t hurt me anymore, I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the house.
I stood just behind the start of the walkway on the sidewalk and stared at the front door. My heart beat rapidly in my chest and I gently held my cast-wrapped wrist against my stomach, the memory of how it happened replaying over and over in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke out in a sob and choked back tears, refusing to break down.
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