Six Feet Under

20.

I look around my house and try to take in what I am seeing. Glass shattered on the floor and a broken bottle of wine on the table with liquor spilling everywhere on the ground. I see the pillows are upside down. I gulp down the fear that is crawling up my skin and try to force myself to speak.

"Mom." My voice comes out all shaky and unsure. Like I am not even sure if Mom is at home or not.

"Is anyone here? Cynthia?" Maybe it is Cynthia who did this. Or maybe it was my lunatic father.

"Is anyone home?" I look around to find some more clues as to what happened.

I hear some voices coming out of mom's room. I slowly make my way to the room and find the door wide open with mom sitting at the edge of the bed and crying. My father is packing his bag. Where is he going? It is Friday, he can't possibly be going to Cynthia's since he goes there on weekends. What is going on here?

"Mom, what is wrong?" I ask in a weak voice while taking nervous step towards her.

"Stay out of it." He growls.

I ignore him and keep moving forward towards mom. She is crying with her head bent down and her shoulders are shaking. I stand in front of her and ask in a soft voice, "Talk to me, mom. What happened?"

"Tell, your daughter what a jerk I am. Come on, Carol, go on. Show me as a monster and yourself as a tiny little victim of all of this." He barks while stuffing clothes in his bag.

Mom keeps sobbing and doesn't answer.

"Stop crying for God's sake, Carol. You are the one who burned down your whole life and mine as well." He shouts.

"Can you shut up?" My mom yells back.

"Oh, look who has a voice now. Don't you dare to raise your voice at me. Remember how I slapped your daughter that night." My mom's eyes widen at that and my heart sank.

"What did you just say to her?" I yell surprising myself.

"Shut up, Paige." He says with clenched teeth.

"No, I won't. But I wont let you even touch my mom let alone slap her. You are the one who got other women pregnant and now you just want to blame your wife for that. You are just a manipulative bastard and a disgraceful husband." I spat.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." He says in a low but icy voice.

"Why? You will hit me again? Trust me, if you even dare to do so, I will make sure you're behind the bars and rot to hell." I match his tone, "Want to hit me now?"

He stares at me like he wants to slit my throat with a blade but he chose better. He stuffed his bag with his clothes and slammed the closet shut. It probably cracked a bit too.

"I won't be coming back. The thing that will come now are the divorce papers." And with that he left. He did what he has always been best at doing. Leaving. Running away. But I am happy that at least there is no longer a monstrous man in this house.

I turn around and look at mom, "Are you...are you going to be okay?"

"I wasn't good enough for Brad but he will come back." She cries and her words make me feel uneasy. What if he comes back? Will she let him? Will she not care about how he will start treating us again?

"You wouldn't let him, will you?" I ask.

She looks at me and I fall two steps behind because of the way she is looking at me right now. Her eyes are red and she looks ready to fight me. Her anger is so visible on her face it looks like anger is all she has known.