What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

The truth

I walked in the door of my home. The sun had just started setting so the sky had taken on an indigo colour. I walked in the living room to see mum passed out on the couch. She had started drinking about 3 months ago. It started off small, but now she’s just binging all day every day. She’s constantly drunk and I constantly don’t care.

Dad was in the kitchen and I knew he was making dinner that meant he was in a good mood today.

‘Valery, is that you? Can you come in here for a minute?’

‘Yer daddy it’s me, I’ll be there in a second.’

I put my bag down and walked into the kitchen. Oh, that wasn’t dinner he was making. He was just boiling a pot of water. Maybe he was making spaghetti. I hope.

‘Valery your school called today.’

Oh crap

‘Yer, what did they say?’

‘They said you got a detention today.’

‘Uh yer, but you get them for nothing at school.’

‘NOTHING! I DON’T THINK SCREWING AROUND WITH A BOY BEHIND THE BLEACHERS IS NOTHING! DO YOU?!’

His face was bright red, and the vein in his neck was throbbing really fast.

‘Dad it’s not what you think. We were talking and the teacher assumed we were screwing around. I swear to god, we didn’t do anything.’

I had a silent tear rolling down my face. I was terrified; I knew what he was going to do to me. He was going to hurt me, I just didn’t know how.

He slapped me across the face twice. Everything was red and my face burnt. I was too dazed to realise he was dragging me towards something. I didn’t realise what was happening until I felt a burning pain in my left hand.

My hand felt like it was on fire. I screamed a blood curdling scream, and it startled my dad enough for him to let go of my hand.

I pulled my hand out of the boiling pot of water. Now I know what the water was for. I ran out of the kitchen before my father could grab me to shove my hand back in the water. I ran up to the stairs to see Jason standing at the top. I ran up to him and pulled him into my room. I was cradling my hand because it hurt like a mother trucking bitch.

“Jase, I want you to pack a bag and go to Jessie’s’ house. Don’t tell mum and dad where you’re going. Sneak out the window and run over to her house. Dad wont realise you’ve gone to her house. Ok, be safe ok Jason.”

“But what about you? Are you ok? You screamed. Why did you scream?”

“I just burnt my self Jase. I’m gonna stay at a friend’s house, but you need to leave as soon as possible. Try to get to Jessie’s before the sun goes down. Don’t tell Jessie about me though. She doesn’t need to worry. Don’t come back whatever you do ok.”

Jason just nodded, I knew he was upset. He had tears running down his face. He knew dad had hurt me and he was scared for me. He was only 8, but he was so sweet. Jason nodded and ran to his room.

I walked into the bathroom and ran my hand under some water. I put burn cream on my hand and bandaged it up. The bandage wasn’t tight but all I wanted it for was to cover up the burns. I ran into my room and grabbed my duffel bag. I shoved in my pyjamas, some clothes, and some underwear. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed my make-up, hairspray, and flat iron. I knew Jake would have everything else that I needed.

I ran back into my room when I heard dad pounding up the stairs.  I shoved a couple of pairs of shoes in the bag and my wallet, phone and iPod in there and ran to my door. I grabbed my computer chair and shoved it under the door. I hurried over to my window when I heard my father’s body hit the door with enough force to make it splinter.