Rebecca's Bad Day

Prologue: Nightmare

-Then why are you angry at me?-

Dad chuckles again and looks at me from behind the ray bans -Angry? Oh no, princess, I'm not angry. It's logical, I'm just... Disappointed at you. If you wanted to spend time with your mother so badly you should have said that, but instead you threw a tantrum. Well, that ends here, young lady.-

-But...- It doesn't matter, he ignores me and walks into the lodge and I follow like the good daughter that I am.

My stomach turns, my legs are trembling, I'm scared. I asked for this trip for years and now that we are here I want to run all the way back to Malibu.

Dad is angry at me, he's never been this angry at me. Barely talking to me the whole trip, not removing his glasses and I'm pretty sure at some point he snorted cocaine because he keeps sniffing and scratching his nose. He also trembles.

-I am sorry.- I weep.

Dad stands still, watching me cry a little, a smirk on his face. -Are you?- He asks approaching me.

He places his hands on my shoulders, I can see my flustered face on the reflection of his sunglasses.

-Because to me, those seem like crocodile tears.-

-NO DAD, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just... I just really miss mom and I miss doing stuff with her, she's barely home anymore!-

Dad smiles and nods.

-Yes, yes, mommy dearest has a lot of work and barely spends time at home but you would rather be with her. Just like the other two.-

-Dad, no... It's not that.-

Dad takes his right hand from my shoulder and before he strikes, I hold my breath. Does it count as a sucker punch if I knew he was going to punch me in the stomach?

It doesn't matter, I guess because it still hurts so much all of the air leaves my lungs.

-No, it's not that? Then what is it?- He asks with bitterness holding me upwards by the left shoulder. He punches me again.

I try to bend over myself but he changes his left hand from my shoulder to my hair and pulls me upwards. -Answer.- He demands.

I gasp for air, he lets go of my hair. -ANSWER.- He demands one more time.

-I just miss mom.- I cry. -We all miss her, dad.-

-Yes, yes. YOU ALL miss her. Meanwhile, I'm the one who's never left. The one who gave his career, his lifestyle... HIS EVERYTHING for this family and how do you repay my unconditional love and support? Complaining.-

-I already said I'm sorry.-

-Well, sorry is not enough this time. You need to learn that.- He punches me again. Harder than before and lets me fall onto the floor.

I lay there in a fetal position for what feels like hours. I don't lay there just because my pride was beaten up, I'm genuinely crying and gasping for air.

I can feel my heart beating in my ears, my palms sweaty with fear. Trembling, hugging myself.

A panic attack.

-You think this little show is going to make me more empathetic?- He finally asks, sitting on the kitchen counter, glasses still on.

-It's... not... a ... show.- I weep, -It hurts. It hurts a lot daddy.- It does.

My stomach feels like Freddy Krueger is ripping my insides with its long claws. But he doesn't care, he stares at me smirking like it was all fake.

But now he stands behind me. The door to the backyard (actually the woods and the path to the lake) open in front of me.

I'm not sure of how I got up from the floor, but I did and I'm waiting for something. Standing in the door frame.

Outside, in the distance, the same homeless woman I saw on the side of the road, she looks like an older version of someone... me? It can't be.

I hear the sound of a gun getting cocked and when I turn around, dad is holding a rifle, a weird one.

-I hope your track training is worth something...- He points at the woods with his right hand. -Because we are playing hunter.-

-What?- I ask with fear.

-You are going to give me two hundred meters in less than a minute or I shoot you.-

-But... I can't run that fast. - I'm not that good of a runner, he knows that.

-That's what the rifle is for Rebecca. Give me two hundred in less than a minute or I shoot you in the back.-

-But... There's a woman outside.- I freeze because I know he is more than capable of doing something like that.

-Run.- He demands.

-But daddy...- He shoots and I feel horrible pain in my left arm and so I run.

I ran as fast and as far as I could, shots coming from behind me. I can hear him hollering my name as he runs.

Another horrible burst of pain comes to my body when one of the projectiles hits me in the left leg and then another right in the center of my back. But I keep running away from him. Chasing me like a mad man and then nothing.

Silence.

I'm so deep in the woods, I'm not sure I can make it to the Lodge by myself. I sit next to a hollowed three with no leaves even though it's mid-June, I feel something warm dripping from between my legs. I try to breathe, to think. What would my brothers do in this situation?

It does not matter, because I don't have enough time to think.

Dad comes from behind a couple of bushes carrying his rifle, the night creeps around us as the sun sets in the woods.

He smiles and finally removes the glasses from his face, but instead of his dark almost black eyes, there are empty sockets. As if he has gouged his eyes himself.

-Please, daddy, don't...- I whisper before he shoots.

I wake up, covered in sweat and my own piss. It's the second time this week but like the sixth time I've done it this month.

I'm going to have to hide this one better until mom comes back. Or maybe burn it while dad is away doing groceries.

I don't want him finding out about my nightmares.