Journeys

Cold. Running down my spine, freezing me in place. The air was pulled from my lungs, my throat constricted. I was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

‘Your father’s coming home’.

The words replayed over and over in my head until that was all I could focus on.

No. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. The last time I saw him flashed through my mind. My heart dropping further into my stomach.

I heard a crashing sound, like a dinner plate being thrown to the tile flooring. Next came yelling, a screaming match, like eagles crying as they swoop their prey. The lights flickering in the window of my home; shadows dancing behind the curtains.

Dumping my backpack, I sprinted to the front porch, my fingers working to pry the keys from my unrelenting pocket. Panic surfaced, fear for the life of my mother pulling me closer, dragging me faster to the sound of yelling.

Of his yelling.

He said he was getting better, I was stupid to believe him.

Managing to wrestle my keys from my pocket I shoved them in the door, praying I wasn’t too late-

Wrenching the door open, I froze as my eyes found him- towering over her, bottle raised while she cowered, arms over her head while she begged for him to stop.

’Smettila!” she screamed. (’Stop that!’). Her eyes caught mine and she stilled, horror in her eyes, pleading for me not to interfere. He didn’t see her pause in her begging, too focused on the job at hand. He brought the bottle down crashing it to her skull while she was too preoccupied warning me to stay away.

But I had, had it. I was blinded by rage. Enough was enough. Suddenly I had the strength of a steroid hyped gym junkie, storming up to him I grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards, slamming him into the ground. Turning back around I saw my mother, blood spreading quickly covering her face, small pieces of glass stuck in her brown hair. Crouching down I shook her making sure she was okay, my anger turned to worry, worry because the blood was spreading fast. I ran into the kitchen, tearing out drawers to find a cloth as my throat started to close again. Sprinting back to mum, I gently brushed glass from her forehead before placing the rag there to stop the flow of liquid life that was draining from her. Making sure that she was applying enough pressure, I turned to face my father again.

My anger returned with a cold fury, as I looked at the man I once called dad. Dazed and confused, his eyes slowly drifted up to me. Bleary and red ones looked back. Filled with nothing.

My skin was burning like I was lit on fire with the rage that consumed me. So much venom in me that would rival that of a king cobra. He was supposed to love her, cherish her. But instead he does this, beats her black and blue for a reason only known to him and his messed up mind.

“Non tornare”, the words hissed out. (‘Do not come back’ ). His eyes changed. As if only now just realising what he had done, tears watered his eyes as he looked at me opening his mouth as if to say something. But I knew better. “Non provare. Entrambi sappiamo che mentirai”. (“Do not try. We both know that you will lie”)

“Maybe he changed?”

My head snapped up, eyeing my best friend Frankie. She was crazy.

“You weren’t there when it happened. It was like he was so off his face he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. He hurt her all the time, I don’t think that will change. No matter how long he’s been in rehab for.”

‘McCarthy Mental Health and Rehabilitation Centre’

A while ago a man escaped and threw himself off a bridge. It was on the news for weeks, covering every screen. Sometimes when I saw it, I wished it was him there instead. Smashed against the pavement with no hope of return. I know that was a harsh thing to think, your father, the man who helped create you- and you wished he was dead.

But I did.

After all the stress and heartache and injuries he put my mother and I through— I did.

“Don’t let me do anything stupid”, I turned to Frankie internally hoping that she wouldn’t see the hopelessness in my eyes.

Her eyes softened. “Of course hun. Never.”

Snapping me out of my thoughts was the door opening. My heart stopped as he walked in, dread filling me as my body went cold. He looked the same as always apart from a few extra grey hairs. Dark, almost black hair with a strong jaw and large, brown eyes that were surrounded by his long, dark lashes.

A smile graced his face as he looked at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes that held a sadness in them, sadness that I didn’t want to see in fear that it would break my resolve.

Slowly he came to sit down. An awkward tension making itself known as we stared at each other not saying a word.

I was relieved when Frankie said something, tearing my fathers intense gaze from me breaking our heated staring contest.

“So how have you been?”

As I went to translate what Frankie had said my dad spoke, his voice with a heavy accent but clearly fluent, surprising me.

“I’ve been good. This place has been good for me. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since you were like what? 17-18?”

A chuckle escaped my lips, before I knew it words were flowing out my mouth, word vomit at it’s finest.

“And who’s to blame for that? Maybe if you weren’t a drunk, you could have seen us sooner huh?” My voice was accusatory and my eyes hard as I stared him down.

He looked broken.

Don’t fall for it

“I was in a bad place, Tesoro. But I’m better now I promise.” (Dear)

“Heard that one before.” I muttered

“I mean it this time, I haven’t had a drop in 3 years now!” He said, getting defensive.

I looked into his eyes, for no matter how hard they tried to hide it, the eyes were the window to the soul, and you can’t hide your soul. I was surprised to see that in his eyes, there was nothing but truth and determination.

Determination to be better. To be there for me because he never had before.

And for a moment my heart stopped with the realisation that I had ... hope.

A dangerous thing, but hope nonetheless that he would change.

——

This story has Italian translations although I’m not 100% sure if they’re accurate, I tried my best though to get them as close as possible.