Escaping Rico

Hey, Sister, I Got An Idea

It all started when Rico started shouting.

He was outraged, throwing china plates at the walls, shattering glass on the floor. He was completely unhinged. Out of control. Mad and cursing, the potent stench emanating from his unwashed skin filling up the whole area.

For a stranger walking in on this, it would be absolutely insane. Crazy. Nothing ever seen before, except maybe on television.

But for someone like Tracy Alexandra, this was the absolute "norm" for her. She was watching it, live on set, and not behind a television screen.

"Her father, Rico, was sloppy drunk. Raging and inebriated, Rico stormed the kitchen like a hurricane. He was pissed off, because earlier that day he'd lost his job at the local hardware store down the block. Since that angered him, he decided to take all his wrath on the house, destroying every glass, punching any wall, and holaring any swear word he could think of.

Meanwhile, Tracy sat in her bedroom, her back against the wall. Almost any sound could be heard through those paper-thin walls, so Tracy, and her eighteen year old sister, Leah could hear all the commotion and collateral damage.

'Screw them bitches!" Rico bellowed. "I ought to kill every single one of 'em!" That noise was followed by a wall shaking boom.

Leah, whom shared the same room as Tracy, was fed up with it all. She was lying flat on her bed when she sat up right. Huffing in frustration, she hunched over.

"Can't take anymore of this shit, Tracy." She said tiredly.

Tracy had been sitting on the floor, a small rectangular sketchpad hoisted up on her knees, completely immersed in a drawing. Drawing was like music to her. As long as she had paper and something to make a mark, she was able to nearly black out everything around her.

Leah called her sister's name a couple more times before Tracy actually looked up.

"What?" She asked, oblivious.

"It's late." Leah sighed. "If he doesn't shut up soon, neighbors are gonna call the cops."

Tracy shrugged. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before.

"Best to try to calm him down."

Now Tracy looked up.

"Bad idea." She told Leah. "H-he's drunk and ticked off. You get in his face, he'll take it all out on you, too." It was also nothing new to them. The sisters experienced before what it was like to feel the fist of the man's fury. Literally, he'd hit them and called them all kinds of all kinds of vile names before. One time, Rico got unexceptionally drunk and punched Leah in the stomach for apparently, "being too nosey." It got worse when she threw up on his boot as a response to the violent blow. He ended up blacking her eye and busting her lip. On a separate occasion, back at one of Tracy's old school's she got in a fight with some girl who constantly kept talking bad about her. Usual middle school drama became fatal when a large burn the shape of a spatula became forever imprinted on her back.

There was over a million-and-one times Tracy could think of all the viscous things their own father had done to them in one lifetime.

It wouldn't be smart to get in his face right now.

But Leah was already walking to the door. Once that girl decided to do something, she was doing it. No "if's", "and's", or "but's" about it.

Tracy shook her head with a sigh and went back to her drawing. Leah's bravery was almost like stupidity. If it were Tracy, she couldn't care who the man was. Let the neighbors call the cops! She'd dial 911 herself if she could.

It only took seconds for Tracy to look up from her sketchpad again.

"You shut your ass up, kid! Get out of my face before I beat your head in!"

It was Rico's voice.

"No, Daddy, you need to quiet it down!" Leah was pleading. "The people gonna call the cops on you again!"

"I don't give a damn!" Rico roared.

There was a loud baming sound, followed by an agonizing scream.

Tracy gasped.

"Get the hell out of my face or I'll give you a reason to scream!"

Footsteps of terror scrammed around until the bedroom door hurtled open. Leah burst inside, clutching the right side of her face in pain. Her eyes were wide and tear-filled.

Tracy dropped her pencil and sketchbook and shot up. She ran to her sister, grabbed her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes.

"It's gonna be alright." She soothed. "We're gonna be fine." Tears welled up in her own eyes as Leah began to sob. Those sisters been carrying the cross of of their father's abuse for too long. Years! Whatever pain Leah felt, Tracy felt the same. It really sucked because there was nothing either of them could do about it.

Tracy stood, holding and caressing her sister for what felt like a century. She felt tears dampen the shoulder of her shirt, but let them as she moved her hand slowly up and down Leah's back.

Eventually, she lifted her head up. She wiped her pinkish eyes, then mustered as sad smile for her younger sister. "I love you, Trace." She said shakily. "I'll do anything I need to for you."

"I love you, too." Tracy replied honestly. There was nothing Tracy wouldn't do for Leah, because the feelings were mutual. Leah had Tracy's back for fifteen years, therefore, Tracy had hers in return.

But she was in for a shock when Leah lifted Tracy's chin with a gentle finger and said, "Hey, sis, I got an idea. One I can't let you pass up.