The Cost of Silence

The Cost of Silence chapter 6

Chapter 6

The house was a mess. And I mean, like everything was broken or thrown around. It looked like our house had been broken into, but I knew it hadn't been. I knew this because this had happened many times before, and also because my dad was sitting a the kitchen table, drinking a beer, calm as he could be, drunk.

Which is what he was. He was drunk off his ass. And when my dad got drunk, he broke things, got violent, the works. He had trashed our house. He did this almost every time he got drunk and angry. Great.

"what the hell did you do?!" I shrieked, freaking out. All my father did was laugh. "see, I knew you could do it. I knew you could talk." I ran up to him and grabbed him by his shirt. I could smell the alcohol on him, and it made me want to puke. "where the hell is Stella," I demanded, spitting in my fathers face. He didn't say anything, but he grinned. That's when I knew.

I jerked my hands away from my father. I couldn't bear to touch him, or even be around him. "you, you pig!" I screamed, running upstairs. I had to find Stella, now.

I ran into her room, and almost fainted. I had found Stella, but not in the condition that I had wanted to find her. Stella was laying on the bed, unconscious, naked. Holy. Shit.

Without hesitating, I ran over to her. I almost cried with relief when I saw that she was breathing and not horrible injured. I did start crying, however, when I realize what was happening. And when Stella wouldn't wake up.

"Stella, wake up, please!" I begged, shaking her. No luck. Freaking out, I grabbed my cell phone and quickly dialed 911. "911, what's your emergency?" the lady on the other line asked calmly. How could she be calm at at time like this? "I need help," I practically screamed, "my dad raped my sister and she's unconscious and please help us!" by the end of saying that, I was screaming. And crying. "we're sending help," the lady said, "is your dad still in the house?" shit. He was. "y-yes," I stuttered, running over and locking the door. No way was he getting in here. "stay there," the lady ordered, "help is on the way." "thank you," I said before hanging up.

I tried to wake Stella up again, but it didn't work. Shit. I didn't know what to do. This wasn't supposed to happen. Stella was only 4. It was different with me, I was 12 when it started. And he stopped. That's what I had thought, anyways. He hadn't done this in months. Why now? Why to Stella?

I couldn't help but feel like this was all my fault. Who knew? Maybe it was. I should have been home, and I should have protected Stella. But I didn't. I was a horrible sister.

My thought was interrupted when there was a banging on the door. I was hoping that it was the police, but then I heard my fathers voice. "open the fucking door!" he shouted, banging on the door. I had locked it, so it would stop him, but we both knew that he could break down the door if he wanted to. And trust me, did he want to. "open it, or I'm breaking it down!" he yelled. I knew that he would, but i certainly wasn't going to just let him in. If only the police would show up.

My father seemed to take my silence as a 'fuck off' (which actually was pretty accurate), and took matters into his own hands. He actually broke down the door.

He stood there, drunk and angry, with the door broken down on the floor. Shit. "you should've just let me in," he said menacingly, "you've disobeyed me. That's not good." he started to walk towards Stella, but I jumped in front of her. "Don't. Touch. Her." I growled. There was no way, that he was ever, going to touch her. Never again. I must have looked mean, but my father only laughed. "you think this was the first time?" he asked, "this wasn't the first time. But it was the first time she struggled. So I had to shut her up." he looked at Stella and saw that she was still breathing. "I didn't finish the job," he said, "I gotta do that. Can't have her running her mouth."

That was it. He was never going to hurt her again. Never. I was still in front of Stella, and I refused to move. Instead of moving, I reached up and punched him, right in the jaw. And judging by his reaction (and the fact that it hurt my hand, a lot), it had to have hurt him. "you whore!" he yelled, shoving me out of the way. When he shoved me, I lost my balance and fell against a mirror, shattering it. Which also cut my arm, pretty baldly.

"stay away from her!" I yelled, trying to stand up. My father paid no attention to me, and reached out for Stella. That was all he could do, though, because before he could even touch her, there were cops. Everywhere.

And before I knew it, they were putting my dad in handcuffs and bringing him outside. A couple others were examining Stella, and soon she was being brought out on a stretcher. I sat in the corner, quietly crying, trying not to be noticed. I admit it, I was scared as hell. The only thing I cared about was Stella.

An officer that looked to be in her early 20's came over to me and crouched down next to me. "my name's Miranda Holt," she said, "are you okay?" I nodded. "are you hurt?" she asked, seeming genuinely concerned. I showed her my arm, and she got a first aid kit and took care of it. I didn't want to talk, but I wanted answers. Miranda seemed to sense that, because she then told me exactly what was going on.

"your dad has been arrested and is probably going to spend the rest of his life in jail. Your sister is in an ambulance on the way to the hospital right now, but she's stable. She's going to be alright. What about you? Can you tell me what happened?" I just shook my head. I knew that the secret was out, but I wasn't ready to talk about it yet. "it's okay, we can talk about it later," Miranda said, helping me up. She seemed to understand.

I did say something else, though. I said one word. "Stella." I needed to see her. Miranda nodded and said "she's on her way to the hospital. Come with me, and we'll meet her there." I didn't respond, but I really didn't need to. I was already being led outside to one of the cop cars.

I looked over at one of the other cop cars, and I saw my father, sitting in the backseat, handcuffed. He saw me, too, and glared at me. I glared right back. I knew that it was over. He must have known that too. But for some reason, he started smiling. And he wouldn't stop. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I heard some of the other police officers talking about a trial. That's when I realized that my dad was going to trial. That didn't bother me. Everyone knew now what he had done. He would be convicted for sure. But that didn't explain why he was smiling...?

Miranda led me to the passenger seat in her cop car, and got in the drivers seat herself. As we drove to the hospital, I thought of something. Something that would have almost been comical, if it hadn't been in this certain situation:

My mom sure was going to be sorry that she missed this.

Authors note:

Ba dum dummmm! 

It happened!  

The secret is out!!

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