14

'No, he won't! He never shouts, ever. He's not the overprotective-insecure type. He loves me, for god's sake. He's good to me Jett, why can't you see that?' Her response was utter BS, nothing I hadn't heard all before.

'That's a joke right? He hit you last time, smacked you across the face, and threatened to smash a beer bottle over your head if you gave eyes to any other man. He was so, so angry; his voice even changed because you could hear each word filled with rage. How much more of this is it gonna take Mum? We can leave, we need to leave!'

It was my turn to get smacked now.

'You little slag, you know nothing! Nothing about this. We can't leave your father, he loves me. You wouldn't understand where we're coming from, but we have a completely healthy relationship. We prioritise keeping each other safe'

'Tell that to the bruises all over the back of your legs,' I muttered. I was done arguing with her now. Nothing would make her change.

Dad did hit her when he came home. He saw the state of her skimpy little outfit and her monstrosity of makeup smeared over her eyes. She also looked unwell, flushed. Like she just broke into a cold sweat. I could hear it all going on downstairs from my bedroom. Dad questioned her, she didn't even try to hide it, completely admitting to where she had been. Then a bang and a scream of pain before you could hear her quietly crying to herself and her and Dad giggling. I was perplexed, to say the least.

The next morning everything seemed fine, Dad was waiting at the breakfast table while Mum fried him his bacon. I just watched as they gazed at each other, almost lovingly.

I never understood the dynamics of my parents' relationship. It was awfully odd to me, it seemed rather old-fashioned too. Mum would cook and clean and take care of the house while Dad would go out to work. They often argued and fought physically, although it was mainly Dad doing all the hitting. Come to think of it, Mum never even leaves a mark on him. She just sort-of falls to her knees right in front of him, almost like he can hit her easier. She puts herself in a position of danger so he can fight with her about it. I have no clue why. She must get a kick out of it. They'd argue about the simplest of things like who ate the last slice of bread and make it really really heated, and then would stop arguing and act like they were always really happy. Everyone knows about this, and everyone understands too. My neighbours, my classmates, my teachers. They all know what's going on but I don't.

I had the punishment of doing extra laundry because I spoke back to Mum. It was a bore. I rifled through all the clothes and hand-washed each and everyone before drying them out and ironing them. It took forever. I had to clean Mum's club outfit she wore the previous day. It looked awfully familiar, but I had also never seen it in my life. It had a logo of a phoenix and skull on the breast. It was a very short and low-cut tube top with studded chains that hung over it, linking it to the skirt which barely covered my mother's hips. Dare I say, I could see down to Florida when she wore it. I unhooked each chain and washed the two separate pieces before putting them in my bag. I had to run to school. Yep, that's right. I did all that in the morning. Before school.

I got up super early. Yet I still missed the bus. I grabbed my bike from where Dad had thrown it against the fence and cycled all the way to school. I didn't think I was going to make it. I was panicking inside. Please, God, no. Don't let me be late. Please.

I just about made it in time. I wasn't allowed to be late, Dad told me it would make the school ask questions. I wasn't allowed to tell them anything about what happened at home. Though they already knew.

'You look a bit tired there, Jett. Stayed up late did you? You naughty girl!' Miss Lu spoke to me, waving her finger around my dark eyes.

(Although, they weren't exactly dark. Mum had ruined all my makeup so I had only enough stuff to coat my eyelashes with a couple of times. I looked and felt naked.

'You don't need that muck!' Dad would say, although he wouldn't even look at Mum unless she had a full face.

'I need it more than you, stop trying to get the attention of boys. You tart!' Mum would say even though her whole world was showing yesterday. )

'No Miss, I got up really early, that's all,' I responded, refusing to make eye contact. ' Although I was almost late, truth is I was working on that project. It needs to be exceptional.'

'Ahh okay, I see you!' and with that, Miss Lu walked away.

I was doing a project. On fashion subcultures. I was super excited, but I hadn't even started it yet. I could never find the time. Mum and Dad would often need to 'have discussions' upstairs and made me do all the house and garden work. I wasn't allowed to go to my room until I was done. Even then, I would have to shout up to my parents so they could check how well I did before dismissing me. I would then have to run on the treadmill in my room for an hour or so because my parents 'don't want fat children'. Homework was always pushed back so I never had time for hobbies or my non-existent social life.

I was determined to get this project done though. My parents were supposed to be going to a business meeting today so I could focus on my work. I had to get it done.