Blackout

Chapter 4

“Are you sure you have to go home?” asked Liam. I nodded; I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, I had to go home sooner or later, and it was better I went sooner, because if I went later, the angst would just build up inside of me.

“I’ll be alright, I promise.” I said. “This is normal.” And it was, I would usually have a fight with my mom, go away somewhere, and then come home a few hours later. We would have usually both calmed down a little after that, and we would exchange pleasant, albeit wary, glances.

“Lou can drive you if you want.” offered Niall. Louis glared at him like way to just volunteer my services.

I laughed lightly, “No, it’s really alright, I’ll be fine.”

Niall didn’t seem to want me to go. “Uhhh… here! What’s your phone number?” he extended his blackberry to me.

I typed in the digits. “If the others want it you can give it to them.”

Harry prodded Niall’s shoulder. “Yeah, do that.”

“Well, I’ll be on my way, then.” I said, and, giving them warm smiles, stepped out into the light rain, where the taxi was waiting.

As it was pulling away, I glanced back at them through the glass front of their apartment building. They were stepping away from the door, and it looked as though Harry had said something wrong, because Louis had him in a headlock, but they were both laughing. Liam was tutting at them, and Zayn was saying something jovially. Niall looked back for an instance at my cab, and although he couldn’t see me because the windows were blacked out, I met his eyes. They seemed to be searching for something. I turned back around. I didn’t really expect him to call or text, but it would be nice if they did.

In the taxi, the air conditioning was on full blast. My legs, which were uncomfortably bare in my rather short tennis skirt, prickled with goosebumps. I shivered, and curled up in a corner of the seat, trying to confine my body heat. My phone buzzed from inside one of the boots I had borrowed from Niall, who shared a similar shoe size to me. I pulled the slim HTC out.

Sorry, I just realized how cold it was, we should have lent you a coat. –Niall

I smiled, so he had decided to text me after all!

That’s alright, you already gave me boots. Thanks though J

I responded to his text. Even though I was really cold, you don’t tell someone that. We texted for a little bit, going back and forth about this and that. He asked me about tennis, and I asked him about singing. I was almost home when my phone buzzed again. Thinking it was Niall, I happily opened up the text.

Your father is home. Come in the back way.

The text was from my mother. When I read it my heart stopped. I was surprised. My father didn’t usually come home until around 1 am on a normal night, and it only around 10:30. I had counted on having enough time to shower and go to sleep before he came home. This probably meant he got kicked out of the pub earlier than usual, and this probably meant he was especially drunk. I planned my escape route. If he was in the living room yelling or sleeping and if I came in through the back door and crept down the hall and up the stairs, then I could probably make it without him noticing me. He would no doubt ask where I had been, and why I was out so late on a school night, and I couldn’t lie. He could always tell. I shuddered to think what would happen if he found out. I reminded myself to get one of the long-sleeved tennis uniform shirts.

I asked the taxi to stop in my neighbor’s driveway. My father’s chair faced the window, and he would see if I arrived in a cab. I paid the driver, and waited in the stranger’s driveway until he left. I then stole down the gravel street, trying to keep the crunching of my boots quiet. I looped around the back of the house, and opened the door quietly. The door let in to the end of a hall. At the other end were the stairs leading up to my room. I just had to get past the living room. The door was open. I tried to keep as quiet as I could as I walked down the hall, practically trembling with fear. I was doing pretty well, until I was almost past the living room door. My foot hit a creaky floorboard, and seconds later, my father’s figure appeared in the doorway.

He took one look at me and said, “Where the hell were you?”

I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was standing; it made me want to gag. Yet another reason why I never wanted to drink.

 When I didn’t answer right away, he stormed forward and grabbed my face roughly with one hand.  “I asked you a fucking question. Answer me.”

“I-I was out.” I avoided eye contact, the places on my cheek where his fingers made contact burning.

“Out where?” he slurred angrily.

I knew that there was no use in lying, but I had to try. Maybe he was too drunk to be able to tell. “It-it started raining so I went t-to Dee’s house.” I said, stuttering a little. I realized my mistake. I had looked to the left while I was lying instead of the right.

He knew “Don’t you lie to me!” he yelled, grabbing my arm and throwing me on the ground. I cowered against the wall, trying to slide as far away from possible from him. “Where the fuck were you?” he loomed over me. His face was even redder than it was before.

“I had an emergency, and some guys picked me up.” I said. I realized that I had just made it sound a lot worse than it really was.

“SOME GUYS?” he hollered, “You just went off with some random guys? And then you stayed out past your curfew!? Tell me how this is ok?” he kicked me a little in the arm.

“I-it’s not.” I whimpered.

“What was that!?” he asked, kicking me harder, this time in the stomach.

“It was not ok!” I practically screamed.

“So why did you do it!?” he shouted, he kicked me again on the arm. He was careful, even when he was drunk. He didn’t hurt my face or anywhere that I couldn’t cover up. This time he landed a blow on my upper arm, right below my shoulder, a place that could easily be concealed by a t-shirt sleeve.

“I-I” I didn’t know what to say. He kicked my stomach again, right where one of my previous bruises was. I gasped, and water pricked at the corners of my eyes. He kept kicking me, and I rolled over so that my back was to him, curled up to protect my belly.

He kicked once more, and then pulled me up roughly by my arm, making it twist painfully. “Answer me!”

When I didn’t respond right away, he slapped my face, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to jar the tears out of my eyes and make my cheek smart. “I fainted, I needed help!” I said.

“Did I raise you to rely on others!?” shouted my dad. I would have found it amusing if I wasn’t in so much pain. He most certainly did not. Because of him, I didn’t need anyone. I guess that I could thank him for that.

“No.” I said. He swayed a little where he was standing. Seeming to be done, he picked up his beer from where he had put it on the hall table, and retreated back into the living room.

I wiped the tears off my face. Why the fuck was I crying? I was stronger than that. Once he’d broken my arm, and I had barely shed a tear. At the emergency room, I had told them I had fallen off my bunk bed.

I passed my mother on the way back to my room. She handed me a glass of water and a couple of Advil. I smiled and accepted the small gesture, and she nodded. In my room, I stood in front of my full-length mirror in my bra and underwear, inspecting the harm inflicted upon me. Dark red splotches dotted my back and my abdomen, and I could see them starting to turn purple and blue. On my left arm were a couple of marks, but they weren’t too noticeable. The places where my father had slapped me and grabbed on my face were red, but they would go away soon. I walked over to my bathroom, and put some freezing cold water from the tap into a water bottle, and held it on my arms, then shifting it to my ribcage after a couple minutes.

I kicked off Niall’s boots, my phone falling out. I bent to pick it up, my body screaming its complaint. I had a new message from Niall, which was sent a half hour ago.

Did you make it home ok?

Then I had another text, which Niall had probably sent after I hadn’t responded.

Is everything alright there?

Yeah.

I responded, and then tossed my phone across the room. I then settled down on my bed into a deep, dreamless sleep.