Chapter Seven
Have you ever had that feeling in your chest where you knew you were about to get your ass beat? As I walked up the stairs of our porch, I felt that feeling erupt inside of me. I could practically feel my dad's anger and I wasn't even in the same room as him.
The front door suddenly swung open. Dad stood there with anger clear in his eyes and I shrank down a bit. "A fight!?" he screamed so loud that I felt the foundation of our wooden porch shake.
"Dad, it's not as bad as it sounds," I started but he shook his head and yanked me through the door by my ear like he used to when I was a child. He dragged me into the house where my mom was sitting poised on the couch with worry in her deep blue eyes and her dark blonde hair tied back into a tight bun. She looked me over and shook her head.
"Sit!" he hissed as he threw me into the chair on the right of my mother. I rubbed my ear as my dad sat on the table in front of my mother and I, and glared at me like I was wearing the Devil's clothes.
I had never really gotten into a fight before, unless you count when I was a kid and fought Hank with my lunch box or Abby, my cousin, over cake. It was never to this extreme though.
"What were you thinking, Jessie?" my mom asked, with worry laced through her words. My mom always worried about me though. When I didn't come home on time, she was full of worry. When I smelled like smoke she worried. When I was sick, she was a mess over if I was going to be okay or not. She was the complete opposite of my dad.
"The boy swung at me," I said as Dad glared at me. "What else was I supposed to do?"
"Turn the other cheek!" Dad yelled, making my mom and I jump.
"Not everything is like the Bible, Dad! I would have been picked on if I wouldn't have taken up for myself!" He laughed bitterly as he stood up and began to pace.
"Popularity should be a sin! You're always worried about it. It's like greed!" he snapped as I rolled my eyes. "All you want is to stay on top."
Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black.
"Everything is a sin to you," I snapped back, gaining a hand on my own from my mother. It was a warning to calm myself. "You never take up for me!"
Dad whipped around and glared at me. "You make stupid choices," he hissed back. "If you were a good boy and came to church every week you wouldn't be like this! Where did I go wrong!?"
I felt an ache in my chest as he pinned me with a stare so hateful it rendered my speechless. "Charles!" my mom yelled. "He's our son! Don't speak to him like he's a stranger!" I looked down as hate for Dad boiled in my chest. If I'd thought that Zane was the person I hated the most in the world, then I was mistaken. This was more hatred than a guy my age should hold toward anyone. Especially his parent.
"He needs to know that what he did is unacceptable!" he shot at Mom.
"I know, Dad! I'm sorry!" I tried, even though I was far from sorry.
"Sorry won't cut it! I want you to go to your room and think about what you did. You are not allowed to leave your room unless it is for school, church, or detention! Do you understand me, Jessie!?"
"That's-"
"Do you understand me!?" he yelled, cutting me off.
I looked down at the floor with my face feeling the heat from my anger. "Yes, sir."
"Now, go to your room until dinner is done," he demanded as he waved his hand at me. I stood up and glared him down.
"I'm not hungry."
"You will eat!" he snapped at me.
I stopped halfway down the hall and turned around. "Gluttony is a sin, Dad. Don't want to be a sinner because no one likes a sinner," I said and then continued into my room. I slammed my door and locked it before walking toward my window which faced Hank's. He was already waiting for me after probably hearing the commotion. Thin walls in old houses.
I opened my window as he did. "What's the verdict?" he asked.
"Don't act like you didn't hear," I pouted.
He laughed and I gave him a smile. "Grounded beyond belief?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," I said and huffed when my door was banged on.
"You better not be out of your window!" Dad snapped. Hank blew a raspberry and then waved before we closed our windows. I leaned against it and stared at the door, wishing he would just disappear, or maybe... just maybe someone could save me from this.
Maybe someone with a motorcycle and a black leather jacket.