Short Stories

Broken

The plate was beautiful; it had this exquisite floral design in the centre with blue and purple orchids overlapping each other, their colours perfectly melded together, and the bordering, which was probably her favourite part. It was vines all twisting together into the most glorious shapes. This is all she could think about as she watched it tumble to the floor almost in slow motion.

 She knew she couldn’t really reach the shelf but she tried anyway, knowing that she couldn’t disturb her father but also that she wasn’t allowed to stand on a chair. She stretched to her fullest extent and by some miracle managed to slip the masterpiece onto its stand; turning to get the next dish she heard a slight rattle. She saw it happening but her mind wouldn’t allow her body to move fast enough to catch it. Her hands shoot out but just that second too late. The shatter of the broken plate reverberated throughout the entire room, causing a ripple that only left dead silence in its wake. Emma’s entire body froze; all she could do was stare with wide eyes at the mess as she tried to control the tremors threatening to take control of her body.

 Shutting her eyes, Emma tried to make herself as inconspicuous as she possibly could, hoping that maybe the television was just a fraction too loud and he didn’t hear, maybe she could be let off the hook just this once. But unfortunately luck wasn’t on her side as her father turned his drunken gaze on her and the shattered pieces of the former plate that lay at her feet. She took small shallow breaths, knowing that any sudden movements would attract his attention

“Fuck Emma, can’t you do anything right,” he glared at her, the vein in his forehead protruding dangerously.
“I…I’m sorry d-dad, I didn’t mean to,” Emma was physically shaking by now. “I…I’ll clean it up right away,” eyes downcast she waited for his response. Slamming his fist on the table, she knew there was no hope and all faith on the matter fled her in that moment.
“Damn straight you’ll be cleaning it up, along with every fucking surface in this godforsaken house, and if you break another fucking thing. I’ll make sure you’re sorry.” He fixed her with a menacing glare before turning back to his program.

 She already was. She was sorry for so many things. She was sorry that her dad had a workplace accident and couldn’t work anymore. Sorry that because of that her mum had to work two jobs one of them being the night shift at the local restaurant, meaning she spent her nights being her dad’s slave and punching bag. Slowly she shuffled out of the room to get the dustpan and broom from the laundry. Biting on her lip she fervently prayed that there would be no more encounters tonight. But there is no God.

 What little colour she had left drained immediately upon reentering the kitchen. Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table with his feet perched on the table a smug smile flitting across his lips. Mustering all the courage she had, she lifted her head, standing as tall as she could; she walked into the room and began cleaning up the mess. She didn’t see the belt until it connected with her back.

“You didn’t really think I would let you off so easy did ya” he sneered down at her his breath putrid with the stench of stale beer.

Her back was stinging from where he had hit her but she knew that if she responded she would be giving him exactly what she wanted and she would not allow him the satisfaction. Continuing as if nothing had happened she went back to picking up the large pieces of plate, she could feel his gaze burning a hole in her back. Everything was going well until her concentration slipped for a second and she sliced her hand on a particularly jagged piece of china. Her entire body tensed a split second before the belt connected with her again, this time leaving a welt on the side of her face. She momentarily forgot about her hand as she cupped her cheek smearing blood across her face. She watched as he pulled his belt back again.

“Please don’t” she whispered, glancing at him with trained eyes, tracking his movements so that she could calculate his response and how quickly she could run to her room before he caught her.
“Excuse Me,” he said, standing to his full height so that he was looming over her.
“Please don’t, I’m sorry, don’t hit me again.” Emma had no idea where this sudden boldness was coming from but she knew it was going to get her in a lot of trouble if she didn’t keep quiet.
“You do not get to tell me what to do!” he bellowed, “I don’t give a flying fuck what you want.” He grabbed her by the collar about to hit her again when she heard the most wonderful noise all day.

 The sound of the front door opening. Mum was home. But dad didn’t hear it, because if he had he would have released her from his grip. But when mum rounded the corner she froze taking in the scene before her. The broken plate, Emma’s blood smeared face, her body just dangling above the ground and the murderous glint in his eyes.

“What’s going on here!” she exclaimed, her face flushing as fists formed by her side.

“This stupid child of ours can’t do anything right, broke the plate my mother bought as a wedding present and then started bleeding over everything, she’s a waste of space” his eyes narrowing daring Mum to challenge him. Emma started to feel woozy if he didn’t loosen his grip on her throat soon she was sure to pass out. Her mother must have sensed what was happening to Emma because her entire being became so tense that she looked like a lioness about to pounce.
“Put her down you ass, she can’t breathe. If you don’t put her down this minute I’ll call the police.”
“Fuck off Lynn, this doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t concern me.” Emma had never heard her mother put so much disgust in three words as she did that night.
“She is my daughter and I swear to God, if you don’t put her down this instant I will call the police.”

Releasing his grip, Emma dropped to floor but her feet weren’t able to support her, causing her to crash to the floor. Once her eyes refocused she scrambled over to her mother.
“What a bunch of bitches the both of you are,” Emma watched as her father drunkenly stumbled forward still trying to retain his menacing manner.

“Honey, go up and wash the blood off your face” Emma couldn’t quite read the look in her mum’s eyes but even though she didn’t want to leave her mother with the monster, but she couldn’t stand to be in the room with him much longer. She had barely made it down the hall, before she heard the distinct sound of a slap and then a body being slammed against the wall. Peering around the corner, she saw her mother stand up on shaky legs. 

“Get out,” her voice sending a chill down Emma’s spine.

“What!” her dad looking like he was about to rear up again. Emma’s eyes widened as her mother picked up a knife from the kitchen bench.

“You heard me get out, I won’t have you tormenting this family ever again. Get out or I will kill you. How dare you lay a hand on my daughter” Emma was shocked when she saw her dad take a step back at the tone of mum’s voice.

Realizing that he didn’t stand a chance he stormed out of the front door grabbing his car keys. Emma rushed into her mother’s arms as the sound of the car’s engine disappeared down the street.