UNDER THE PIER

CHAPTER 15

WARNING!
  THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SCENES OF SELF HARM, ABUSE AND/OR SUICIDAL ACTIONS THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME READERS

"

"What the hell are you doing!?" my father yelled at me.
I turned from my cooking and looked at him. He stood in the entrance of the hallway, wearing ripped unbuttoned blue jeans and a red t shirt. He looked hungover as usual, as well as angry.
I had been cooking some pancakes this morning with blueberries and chocolate chips.
While I knew making pancakes was a messy job, it was also not a silent one. I guess I had been more noisy than I realized.
I gripped the spatula, nervousness kicking in.
"I-I-I'm just making us some pancakes--
"How can someone make pancakes so fucking loud?!" he yelled at me. "Jesus Christ, I swear, you're the reason we got that damn noise complaint."
With this, he disappeared back into the hallway.
Not a thank you. Not a hello or good morning. Nothing more.
I bit back a remark. I gritted my teeth in anger. I gripped my spatula even more and I looked away from the hallway.
While I felt apologetic about being so loud, I felt there was also no need to blame the noise complaint on me. That wasn't my fault.
It had been at least a week since I broke up with Zithan. I now have normal, weird, wacky dreams that normal people would have. I had also barely visited the pier this week as well. It had been hard, not to go to sleep and wake up to Zithan and Little Buddy swimming around me.
While I knew I should be relieved I wasn't a victim to a siren's tricks anymore, I felt....lonely.
I didn't want to admit it but I missed Zithan. I missed Little Buddy. I missed exploring the  shipwrecks and seagrass fields, swimming under the moonlight and learning about each other's life.
But it was all fake. It was only to get me to drown myself and Zithan could feast on my body.
An explanation that I wasn't sure I quite believed anymore.
While it too was a hard pill to swallow, there was also another one that I had learned too late.
I had fallen in love with Zithan.
His words had echoed into my head continuously and I had realized what I felt for Zithan. It was more than like like. Even with me fighting against what I had learned on Zithan, I still wanted to be with him. My heart seemed to break when I left him. It brought me to tears to even think of going to the pier.
I didn't realize any of this until the third day after I had broke up with him. It was when I truly felt sad and worse than ever.
Now on the seventh day, I felt numb almost to it and tried to distract myself from the thoughts of Zithan and Little Buddy.
Maybe I should visit the pier today. It might give me some peace of mind.
This would be hard but perhaps... it was the right thing to do. I had no one to go to for advice on how to deal with heartbreak and breakups. Especially with a siren. I was figuring it  out all on my own.
I looked back at my pancakes on the skillet and carefully flipped it over. Blueberries slightly burnt into the skin of the pancake. I was just grateful that the pancake itself wasn't burnt. A little overdone but not burnt.
My father came back out a while later, a damp white hand towel laid over his neck. He looked up drowsily at me and then at the plate of stacked pancakes I had made. At this point I had made at least 7.
I saw him looking with his eyes halfway raised in surprise. "I made four blueberry and 3 chocolate chip." I said to him quickly.
"Well.... not bad." he said. He grabbed another large plate from the cabinet nearby me and took 2 of the chocolate chip pancakes and one blueberry. He opened the fridge and pulled out the gallon of milk we had.
After getting himself half a glass, he then went to sit down. He looked at his plate and then looked over at me. I had been carefully watching him from the corner of my eye.
He had woken in a bad mood so now I knew he could switch easily at any minute. It was best to not annoy or even speak without being talk to first.
"Cadence, can you give me some silverware please?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh, sure." I said quickly.
It was at this time, I had placed the final pancake onto the large pallet of stacked pancakes. In total, I had made ten pancakes. 5 chocolate chip and 5 blueberry. This I was pretty proud of. I knew with this much, we would have leftovers and we could probably feast on pancakes for tomorrow morning if not later in the afternoon.
I had also discovered this week, that prepping meals made mealtimes easier and quicker to prepare. 
I then quickly turned to the silverware drawer and pulled out a fork and butter knife. I then walked over to the kitchen table and handed them over to my father.
My nervousness kicked in once again when I saw him looking at me with a angry look in his eyes.
"What did you say?"
"Huh?" I said confused.
He grabbed my wrist that reached out to him with the fork and butter knife. He gripped it hard and yanked me closer to him. I staggered forward and dropped the silverware.
I grimaced in pain and looked at him. I immediately began to pull back, afraid of what he might do to me.
"I asked you what did you say to me?" he said in a slowly and almost deadly voice. He looked at me square in the eyes with a look almost intent to murder.
My heart raced fast with fear. My mind raced back to our prior conversation.
What did I say wrong? Did my voice sound like it held an attitude? What did I say?!
I panicked more as I couldn't even remember our prior conversation.
"I-I don't know what you mean!" I said quickly and tried to pull away again. He gripped my wrist again, so hard now that I thought it would break for sure.
"You say, 'Yes sir' to me. Not 'sure'.
My heart stopped beating. A hot anger filled me, replacing the fear I had. I looked up at him slowly.
Is that what this is all about?! I thought angrily.
I get showing respect to adults by calling them sir or ma'am but the abuse behind this just because I didn't call him 'sir' was too much.
All of this pain and abuse I had dealt with all these years was too much.
I looked at him, for once with an angry and annoyed look. In a simple moment, I decided I didn't want to call him 'sir'. Not in the slightest did he deserve that much respect from me.
"No." I said.
I couldn't hardly believe myself when I told him so.
He looked at me surprised. I didn't blame him. I felt surprised by myself as well. I wanted to reverse time right there and then and just said yes or submit to him. It was how I survived all these years. It was how I got away with as little injuries as I did.
"What did you say to me?!" he said standing up now from the table, still gripping a hold of my wrist.
I gritted my teeth inside my mouth. I trembled slightly but then steadied myself. Though I felt like iron, I knew my skin couldn't protect itself against his punches and kicks. Yet I was ready to accept it if it meant I actually stood up for myself. It was time I started doing that.
"I said no." I said firmly. "You don't deserve to be treated with respect with the way you treat me."
"With the way I treat you?!" he yelled, repeating what I had I said. He then shoved me to the floor.
I caught myself with my hands and looked back up at him. He held up his left foot to kick me down more to the floor. I spotted it right away and rolled out of the way. He swore as his left foot hit the kitchen floor instead of me.
I scrambled up on my feet and planted my back against the fridge. My mind was blank and felt uncertain on what to do.
I then thought of my bedroom and it's locked door.
I the made a mad dash to the hallway. I ran past him and began to turn into the hallway.
"Get the fuck back here!" My father yelled.
I then felt the back of my shirt being rigged and pulled backwards. I was stopped in my tracks and going back into the kitchen. My father threw me down on the floor again.
The back of my head hit the floor hard and it immediately began to ring with pain.
I ignored this pain however to cover my stomach as my father planted his foot into my ribs. I curled into a ball and gritted my teeth in pain as his foot hit my arms.
I scrambled away again quickly and once again found myself standing with my back against the fridge.
He raised his fist to swing at me.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. The words came out before I could stop them.
"I will go to the police!"
No punch came.
I opened my eyes and saw he was staring at me surprised. Almost baffled that I had spoken the very words.
He then slanted his eyes at me. "You're lying." he said.
I shook my head quickly. "If you ever lay your hands on me again, I will go to the police." I said, "I will do everything in power to make sure you are arrested and thrown into jail."
"Yeah right, you little pathetic shit." he said getting close to my face. "Nothing but talk just like your mother."
He then grabbed my T-shirt.
I grabbed his hand and tried to pull away from him. He swung his free hand at me, landing me in the face. As my face was snapped to the side, my body went with me. My father let go of my shirt and watched me drop to the kitchen floor.
As I slowly rose up from the floor, I heard my father taking off his belt.
I feared what to come next but I knew this was no way to treat me. Not teens, not children, not wives. Not anyone. I knew this now more than ever.
I felt uncaring of I was beaten. I refused to get submissive now.
I turned to look up at him as he wrapped his belt around his large fist.
"What satisfaction do you get out of this?" I asked him angrily.
He looked down at me with an angry look. "I don't get anything out of it. What you need to get is to know your place in this world! Be quiet and be unseen!"
"That isn't anyone's place in the world!" I yelled at him.
I had never yelled at him for as long as I could remember. I had always been afraid...
"Yes, it is. Your mother was a worm! And so you are you, except you're more pathetic than her!" he yelled down at him. His voicing booming in my ears. "I will show you exactly what you are even if I had to beat you senseless!"
With these words, he raised up his hand. His belt clutched tightly around it.