Chapter 1
Sometimes i swear i’m alone, nobody around me makes any sense to me, all hypocrites and they don’t even see it, my parents argue all the time they never stopp, nothing ever makes them happy, not each other, not me and Ian and definitely not alcohol as much as it may numb or there copious amounts of drugs, yet they never left each other, my father shouts but he never hit my mom, yet after she got cancer she’s barely my mother anymore, or human, whenever i look at her all i see is that hollow woman, she might as well be a skeleton, never eating, always drinking though, i just wish it didnt leave me feeling hollow as well, i get reminded the copious amounts of cigarettes she buys by the one still resting in my shaking hand as the light smoke drifts from the top and it chips away onto my mattress as it burns, embers falling on my skin but ive never known pain to be a bad thing so i let it happen, i put it to my lips and take another drag, closing my eyes for a moment to take it in before the shouting downstairs takes me back to reality, i sigh and let the smoke blow out as i stand and then drop it to the floor crushing it out under my red converse shoe and then continue to my door, open it, and walk out i walk down the hallway, our walls a yellowy hue after all the years, the floor creaking under even my steps, i glance at the little girl peaking out from behind her bedroom door, i even crack a small smile and and walk over, i kneel down infront of her and lightly place a hand on her door, hearing it creak slightly as i push it open to see her, isabella, my little sister 8 to be exact with big dark brown eyes that are almost black, black straight hair to match and chubby cheeks that melt my non-existant heart, i reach out my hand again and lay it on her shoulder “hey iz’, a bit loud, huh?” “I can’t read,” she said softly, and it pulls at my heartstrings. Still, I put on a calm face and nod, “they’ll settle”, I try to reassure, making her sigh, she’s heard that so many times ’it’ll get better," " mama just feels a little overwhelmed, " "papa had a hard day, that’s all’ and I know it makes it worse. Still, there’s nothing else to tell her. The truth is worse than the bandaid I put over the wound that is our parents. Loud creaking comes from down the hall, and I look over and up at my older brother, fucking hell. I sigh dramatically, even for me, and immediately look back at my sister and give some excuse that I pull out my ass for the shouting, and then ask her to go back to her room. She does. Then I stand to face my brother, Kai, who’s been standing over me like he rules the earth. “What are you doing?” he asks. I already want to blow my brains out, always asking that, but I cross my arms and lean on one hip, “providing some support to our little sister who can’t focus because of mama and papa’s shouting?” he snarls. I get reminded of a pig’s face, making me hold back my smile, “she’s going to grow up eventually, might as well tell her the truth and stop smiling like that, you’re too fucking ugly for that shit” My smile fades. I roll my eyes a little, feeling and looking exhausted already “Is that jealousy I smell?” I ask, “How am I jealous?” He responds, and I smile again and choose not to respond since I know it makes him mad, petty, yes, but I need the enjoyment now and then, and at least I can admit that. I tune him out as I shove past, and he says some bullshit about being hurt, bullshit. But thats my brother, for the record hes 6’2 and im 5’5 at best and a teenage girl, he’s practically an adult at 19 but thats mommy’s boy, i continue down the hall and down the stairs, feeling the last one shift a little under my foot, one day it’s going to trip someone but that’s not my job, it actually my fathers or even my brothers but neither are very “man of the house” in my opinion, i snap out of the thoughts when i pick my head up and tone in on the shouting of my parents, i sigh and walk into the kitchen starting to make sense of what the argument is about now or if its the same from this morning
“Oh fuck off!” my mother screeches, already crying. “Don’t talk to me like that! I tell you, and I tell you, you will die! Do you want to die?!” my father shouts back, voice deep and laced with frustration, always sounding like he’s going to get physical and never does with my mother “im going to anyway!” she cries “What a gift!” my father shouts back coldly. My eyes snap to my mother as she grabs a bottle of vodka. Wine? Or maybe it’s tequila? I don’t get to find out before she throws it at him, and I just sigh and turn to the fridge and hear it hit the wall, fading out the sound of the repercussions. I look over the fridge, and like the last two weeks, there’s been dried bread, mouldy cream cheese, a six-pack of beers and what anybody that doesn’t live here would presume is yoghurt vis-à-vis milk. I grab a beer and shut the fridge, which seems to get my father’s attention. I turn to face him, alone. My calmness disappearing with my smile, I really have to get out of my fucking head more. For an agonizing minute, there was only silence till I turned and went back upstairs. “Where are you going?” I freeze my steps and glance back over my shoulder at him before swallowing hard and forcing my words, “My room..” “Your? room. Do you pay the rent here?” “Uhm…yes?” I watch silently as his face hardens again, and I swear he’s going to start again until he responds, “Excuse me?” “I uh.. Pay it, I give you my checks from work.. You said it goes to bills.” I say back, I’ve been giving Papa my checks since I was 15 and first got my job, been there for a year now, I work as a waitress for a shitty diner near here, I want to get my license, but that’s not how things work in this family for the girls, at least. “No.” My father’s stern tone takes me back to the present, and I tilt my chin up to meet his dark brown eyes and say nothing, no? What does no mean? I want to ask if it was anyone else besides me. My father’s eyes roam over me, and then his eyes lock onto mine “I pay our bills, I pay for your food, and I keep you safe. You don’t need money, Rosalyn. I do; therefore, I do whatever I want with what you make.” his words don't penetrate. Still, I feel a small knot in my throat, so I just nod, “Yes, papa,” I say, my voice a little rough. Still, i cant hide it, regretting it already but regretting it more as he walked over to me and stopped right infront of me before looking down at me, i feel my muscles tense as my hands fist behind my back, feeling like i have to hide the beer in my hands, its not like hes ever cared before if i drink or smoke but anything could set him off. I feel his overly smooth fingers grasp my jaw, and I feel my teeth pressing hard against each other. I watch my father’s eyes look me over once more, and I want to puke at the strong scent that takes over my nostrils, cigarettes, booze and fragile masculinity. “Don’t take what you’re not owed without asking,” he said calmly with an underlying tone that always makes me feel like im a child again. His words bring irony, considering I don’t owe my father jackshit while he takes my money, talks big about me owing him my life for him giving it to me, but what kind of life is this? This “life” is a ton of bullshit that makes me wish I’d never been given it. “Sorry, Papa”, I say, trying to portray some kind of non-existent confidence when it comes to my father. I feel him let me go and tap the bottom of my chin before turning away. I lift my hand and flip him off with a cold expression. The second he looks away with some kind of sigh like I im being a brat, I turn around, walk out of the kitchen, and go back up the stairs. My house isn’t big, small actually. Still, it does the job at hiding the truth, I quickly pass my sisters room and then my parents and then into mine, thats how it goes, we have four bedrooms. Still, when my parents arent making up in my fathers bed, my mother will take over my little sisters room so my sister will stay in mine, sometimes i prefer it that way, when i can be sure shes safe and my parents arent traumatizing her with the noise, my mom isnt a bad person per-say just really tired, my father had drained the life from her, used her for babies and then she got cancer, he thinks its because of her drinking or smoking and it is. Still, it's not going to suddenly go away now if she stops, shes too far off, i sigh at the thoughs as i crack open the can and go into my bedroom, i sat down on my bed and took a long sip of the beer, drinks taste better when i dont ask for them, fuck papa, what does he know? I ask myself, then place the can back on the floor. Sometimes I think about running away, but where would I go? I have money, id just start keeping mine and i keep a little for food for Isabella when papa forgets to being home shit for her, gas station food normally, something that requires no effort or skill, i kicked my shoes off with the top of my feet and then crawled into my bed, sand all over it but changing bedsheets are overrated, i grab my book hiding in my pillowcase and i open it to the page thats been folded over at the right corner, i then read, i think the only reason why i’ve always felt better then my family, I taught my little sister as well, to read instead of need devices, were not allowed them or more accurately we cant afford them, my brother got one but my father gave him his old one, my brother made it clear id never be allowed one, god forbid i have connection to the outside world, i just hope i grow up fast so i can ditch this awful town and take care of isabella.
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A groan escapes my lips and i hear barking outside and then the shouting from my father but what forces me out is the crying of my little sister, i push myself up and half-roll off the bed, swinging my leg over and rubbed my forehead, fuck hangovers, i open the door and rush out, feeling a throbbing in my head already and my heartbeat too fast for this time in the morning..wait what time is it?, i ignore the stupid question as i rush downstairs and skip the last stair so i dont slip, i look over the room, ive always had a tendency to do that, to check everying before i even speak, lucky im fast at it, i see my father standing over my little sister whos crying loudly, my brother in the corner who looks like he knows its wrong and doesnt do anything. Fucking pussy. I look back over at my sister and my dad, thinking before speaking even know and yet what i say is still stuipid “get away from her! What the fuck!?” my dads angry face turned back to me and he was practically panting as he walked past isabella making her stumble and making me frown as my eyes snapped to his, he immediately blew up as i backed away, seeing whats supposed to be the person to protect me, my brother, smirking like finally it was my turn. “Excuse you!? You think I want to be out here dealing with your sister? It’s called parenting!” “parenting!? When have you ever been a parent!? It’s-” I glance at the clock on the wall and then look up at her father again “-4 in the fucking morning, and you’re out here shouting at Isabelle!?” “How dare you speak to me like that! I am your father!” “your not shit!” i snap back and so does he except no words left his mouth, just the snap of his hand over my fave and i stumble back, i dont even get to fall over the bottom step as he grabbed the back of my head and gripped a handfull of my blonde hair and pulled me back up, tears already starting and my heart beating fast against my chest but my glossy eyes opened wide and locked onto his as he shouted in my face, his nose brushing mine and spit spattering onto my face “dont you ever speak to me like that!” i felt my body shake with my first sob before he pulled his face back from mine and shove me to the floor infront of my sister, my brother sitting there silently, no smile anymore but he held silent as we locked eyes and suddenly didnt feel so bad as he shrugged a shoulder and had that same smug little look of its not my problem even if i can tell he knows. I turn my gaze back to my sister and crawl over to her into the living room. I put a hand on her arm and sat back down to look over at my father, but he wasn’t there anymore. I glanced at the back door that had been slightly ajar, and he went outside to smoke. I got up as fast as i cou hand with my hip hurting so badly, i bend down and picked up my sobbing sister, placing her on it anyway as i walked fast to the stairs, slipped on the last one but caught myself, i rushed upstairs and heard footsteps following after a moment, i rushed into my room, placing down isabella so fast she trips a little but i dont have time to check on her, no time, i need to get out, its starting to iz’ and i cant let him hurt her. i grab a duffle bag from the closet, my brother walking into the room not long after looking mad but almost awkward, i only spare him a glance but enough to notice the look “what are you doing” he asks like he knows and i dont answer, too busy shoving clothes into a bag, two shirts, two jeans first, “Rose, what are you doing?” he asks again and i answer but dont stop packing “leaving. Isabelle, go get your things.” i tell and the little girl wipes the tears from her cheeks with her whole little hands and rushes out passing my brothers leg with a brush, i shove a hairbrush into my bag and listen to him start again “what do you mean?” he asks and i dont respond, he knows, just wants me to give him piece of mind, never will i do it again. I shove anything I would need into the bag, leaving space for any water I can find later. I turn and go to walk out, but Kai blocks my way, speaking before I could, “I’ll tell Papa,” he threatens. Fuck this, he acts like he hates me, countless times he calls me a ‘cunt’, a ‘bitch’ and even isabella a pussy, hes a younger verstion of my father and unlike how he grew up, ive held the mirror to my brother, his choice if he chooses to be better now “be my guest but im leaving.” i say with a firm look and my nose scrintching slightly, after he doesent move i move and shove his shoulder and push him out my way, hes a big guy but not a strong one, i rush to my sisters room who is putting her little pig stuffed animal in her unicorn bag that i got her for christmas, i sigh hard and grab clothes from her closet, all she’ll need, i grab whatever will fit and put it into her backpack, she looks so concerned and so scared, i zip up her bag with very shakey hands, i move her hands to her little arms and put what i assume look like insane eyes to hers “iz’ we have to go, its not safe here.” i stand while she responds “what about papa?” she asks as she sniffled and i put her back pack on and then picked her upto my front and my duffle over my shoulder, i stepped out and saw my brother still standing there, he hadnt told papa, the wuss talked alot of shit about me but he knows hes jealous, always have been and always will be, i wont take him, my mother may see some kind of good in him that blurs the bad, im tired of being the mirror in this family that always gets shattered, i turned and walked down the stairs, papa still standing outside when i heard my brother burst out, way to loud “dad!, papa! Rose is taking Isabelle.” i gave him a frown and then took in his words, now understanding why he was being loud, i then let my impulses lead me, i rushed over to the door before my father could and locked it, crust from the lock flaking as i force myself to turn around instead, dont look at him. Don’t look at him. Two very different meanings, yet I feel both. I rush to the door, hearing my brother go to let my father in, I knew he wouldn’t stop me himself, he’d make my father so nobody could blame him, or so he cant blame himself. Too bad the cold embraces me before it does my father, rushing out before him and not stopping, i ran and glanced back once i heard the footsteps stop behind me, my father looking..cold, smoke curling in to a cloud as it leaves his lips, i feel like i can see them now, maybe its because ill never see them again or maybe its the sun starting to rise, i see the dark black of my brothers buzz cut, his light blue eyes and the opposite physic as my father as if he wants to be him but knows its wrong, my father with a black tank top on showing the muscles of his arms yet hes not a big man, shorter then my brother at 6 ft, black hair and practiaclly black eyes, looking like an abusive husband from the 50’s, i swallow hard and turn away, immediately hearing him shout “dont you ever come back!” i pause for a moment, just for one last glance, not at my father but to my brother, i almost feel bad for leaving him to my father, he likes my father when he has me or my little sister to blame for everying, a shield but i know he doesnt have that anymore, i then glance over the house, my childhood home, looks like a crack house, white walls, white picket fence but no red door, a orange one with peeling paint and a lock that doesent even work anymore yet id never felt like i could leave, i swallow hard and turn again, Isabella looking over at her father over my shoulder, her lips pouting as she mumbled “dada” i rub her back and start to walk away again “we have to go, Iz’, we cant stay, its not safe there”
