The Life of Tyler

Chapter 1

The sharp breeze lashed at my face, stinging my red-tinged cheeks, making me pull my jacket closer to my body. I kept my head low, burying into my jacket in an attempt to preserve body heat. The icy curb made my thighs turn numb. I would have rubbed them if I were brave enough to remove my cold, bruised hands from the warmth of my jacket. Instead however, I pulled my knees up to my chest. It made me feel so small, as if I were physically mirroring my feelings of helplessness against the cruel climate. I could have walked there by now, I thought, regretting ever relying on my father. 

My body ached from the pain my father's friends caused. I held back the tears, telling myself to stay strong.

At one point I struggled with my numb fingers to take my small, now cracked phone out of my trouser pocket. I scrolled through my contacts, squinting my eyes as if it would help me identify the word "Father" behind the broken screen. Just before I had the chance to dial the number, the screen went black and I heard the power off sound. Just my luck, I thought.

I decided to stand and start pacing back and forth to keep warm, kicking the curb as I waited. Maybe he forgot? I thought, as I imagined him at the pub, drinking his life away. Or maybe the people he owes finally caught up to him?

I placed a cold hand on my cheek where there would likely be a bruise. I moved my hand down to my neck where it still ached from the man's suffocating grip. I looked up to the now dark sky, wondering why things turned out his way. Because of your father. I told myself.

If only he prioritised us over gambling and silly feuds. Maybe we wouldn't have been going through such a rough time. I could feel safe wondering the streets alone, or going to the park with friends on the weekend. But I knew that could never happen.

Eventually, I heard a loud screech as a car swerved around the bend at a terrifyingly high speed and suddenly stopping in front of where I stood. Of course it was my father. He motioned for me to get in, a look of pure fury on his face. I dared not speak a word.

After a moments silence, my father grumbled about something and started up the car. "Learn to drive boy, I can't do everything for you all the time" he said, clearly forgetting my age. I stayed silent as not to fuel his anger. "I had plans tonight boy. Can't you have gotten home yourself?" He shouted as the car slightly swerved. I hesitated before replying, "I shouldn't have to, you're my father."

In that moment, his face turned red and hot and it looked almost as if smoke was coming out of his ears. "Don't you DARE answer back to me boy! Learn your place!"

This time, I would not back down. "Why should I have to obey you when you've never even cared about me?" I could swear the car was speeding up. "Your friends throw me around all the time, asking for what you owe them! Why don't you just pay them back? Can't you tell them to leave me alone?"

He turned towards me, fury etched in every crevice of his face. "You wouldn't understand, you're just a kid! You know nothing." It was then I realised how fast we were driving. "How dare you make me seem like the bad guy."

"Da-" I started, panic rising in my chest.

"Don't interrupt me! Haven't you done enough? Ungrateful basta-"

"LOOK AT THE ROAD" I screamed, as my pulse rose and my throat tightened.

"Don't you command me!" he shouted, still staring me down, his foot pressing hard on the accelerator.

My heart beat furiously as if trying to escape my chest, my anxiety making me feel trapped. I used my arms to cradle my body.

"Father please!" my voice was drowned out by his own shouts while I continued to protest, my face now wet with tears of fear. I was trembling and scared.