But tonight, I know it will happen. It’s why I’m sitting here, desperately begging that paying the bills and placing them on the table will soften the blows I’m unprepared for.
After paying the bills, I drop my phone beside my feet, bow my head and rest it against my knees as I rock back and forth. I’m not sure how long I’ve held this position, but as I rise, the sound of Dad’s car comes into focus as it hits the gutter.
I stand, preparing for anything, when my phone vibrates. As I unlock it, an image appears on the screen with the caption “finished”.
There I am, in the oval, and with my head bowed as I draw the tree. All this time, he was behind me and was there for me. And if Dad beats me tonight, I won’t see him next week. I will be out of school, especially if he breaks a few bones.
I will need to make up an excuse, but knowing him, he?—
“What the fuck is this?” Dad hollers.
Prickles of hair rise on end, and a shaky breath, raspy and raw, breaks through parted lips.
“We were out of s-stock,” Mum says.
“No,” Dad spits. “That fucking kid is playing games again!” He pauses before letting out an ear-splitting shout. “Noya!”
What do I do? Where do I go?
I scan from left to right until they settle on the window. In a split second, I race to it, hop onto my bed, grab the lock and flick it to the side. Without a care for my safety, I jump out and close the window before the door shudders and splintered wood sharpens against my ears.
I crouch low under the window with my hand pressed against my mouth.
“Where the fuck is she?”
Silence moves between them, so I can only assume Mum is also looking into my room and wondering the same thing.
“I told her she could sleep at a friend’s place tonight,” she says, which catches me off guard. My heart stutters at her lie. “She will be home later?—”
I wince, feeling the slap more than hearing it.
“Who the fuck told you to do that?” Dad demands. “No one leaves this home. No onefucking leaves me!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop,”—I hear thumping as Dad kicks her—“fucking saying you’re sorry. Words don’t mean shit when you don’t act on them!”
I shakily breathe out when Dad’s thumping footsteps leave the room. Working up the courage, I run down the street as fast as I can while clutching my phone.
I’m leaving.
I’m doing something I should have done a long time ago. For tonight, I’m saving myself. Dad won’t hurt me tonight. I willsleep in a park if I must. I’ll go anywhere away from that broken home.
But the guilt also gets to me. Dad will beat Mum bloody tonight, and she will take the beatings Dad wanted to inflict on me.
The thought of calling the police crosses my mind, but Dad will find out first, and the same thing will happen.
Mrs Jones tried to help me all those years ago. She filled out a report for the police, only for the information to land onhisdesk. There’s no escape unless we run. Keep running and never look back.
And if Mum doesn’t want to do it, I will.
I will save myself.
My breaths come out shorter as I sit at the bus stop and regain my breath. Leaning against the wall, I raise my phone and stare at the photo on my screen.
Me: I love it
I lean against the side of the bus stop. The bus doesn’t come at this hour, so I will stay here for the night and go home sometime when the sun comes up.