short+story

 Growing up I didn’t always have much and I didn’t have a lot to look forward to, but I always knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. On the outside looking in you would think I was the typical teenager, but I really hid a deadly secret. After my mom left my dad and me, everything fell apart. Day after day I would come home and I would be welcomed with a brutal beaten. “You remind me of your mother,” he would say with a grim smirk.  I thought that if I imagined this was normal everything would get better. Waking up in the morning is like not waking up at all. Making sure I’m not to be seen, I quickly wash up. On the couch laid my father buried in beer cans, scenting of alcohol. I was careful not to make a sound as I tip-toed through the den.  Once I was out the door, I walked about two to three blocks down the road. Behind a large, condemned building lays a small shack, so I go there to catch a piece of mind. Some times I stay there for a week at a time. I bet my father doesn’t even notice I’m gone. He’s probably too busy drowning himself in beer.  Why does my life have to be this way? Does anyone care? Why does my father hate me so much? I constantly ask myself these questions, but after struggling to find an answer, I begin to cry. I know it shouldn’t this way and I know I deserve better, but I have nowhere to go.  In the shack I look at a picture of my mom and reminisce about the day my life took a turn for the worse, the day my mother decided to leave. It was a cold Saturday morning and my mother and father had been arguing the entire day. Late at night, after she tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead, in a soothing, calmed voice she whispered in my ear and said I will always love you no matter what happens. That would be the last time I ever saw my mother. Ever since that day I’ve been coming to the shack and thinking about what my life could have been if my mother had stay.  After about two hours I walk down the road to the corner store. With only two dollars to my name, I buy some Vienna sausages because I know there is nothing but a drunk waiting for me at home. To my surprise, my father isn’t anywhere to be seen. Walking to my room, I look around to see if my father is around. In my room I slowly eat only three Vienna.  I’ll save the other two for breakfast. It is now nine o’clock and I don’t know when my father will come in, so I lock the door and sit in the corner waiting. I know at least two hours has gone by now, but I’m still waiting for my father to stumble through the door. Just when I was beginning to doze off, I could hear the sound of the truck’s motor rumbling as it approached the house. Fully awaked and alert, I run to the door to make sure it’s locked.  Next, I ran to cut off the light. I could hear my father stumbling through the door. Everything went quiet for a minute, but then my father began pounding on my room door fiercely. I thought it would never end after hours of pounding. “I know you’re in there,” he said.  I dared not make one sound. I would just wait it out without a sound. I woke up in the same corner. Not sure if I should leave the room or not I think about all that has happened to me. My father is an animal I say to myself.  I can’t take this anymore. That’s when I knew what would have to do. I need to leave this life behind. In my room I look for some sort of tote to pack my rags in. I only own two pairs of pants, one shirt, and one pair of shoes.  I don’t know how I’ going to make it on my own, but I know it’s better than living here. I have no savings, only what I can carry in this sack. My father has a hangover as usual. This makes it easy to leave without a trace. Part of me wants to stay and part of me wants to go, but I know I am making the right decision.  As I walk out the door, I know this is a new beginning. No more pain, abuse, and fear. No more questioning my life. I’m free. Things won’t be easy and there will be nights I starve, I’m homeless, and alone, but there won’t be one single night that I am regretful.