Ashley
I'm Nothing
Ronnie's POV
"Dad! No!" I shouted as he brought his fist back. My words did not daunt him, because he punched Michael anyways. "Dad!" I cried, grabbing his arm. Smart move, Ronnie. He kicked me where no man wants to get kicked. I doubled over in pain; Dad hits hard when he's drunk. I looked over at Michael. "You alright?" I asked in a strained voice.
He nodded. There was no blood on him. That was good.
"Caroline, I told you not to get in my way!" Dad slurred.
Oh. I almost forgot. Michael and I each have "drunk names". What Dad calls us when he's drunk. Michael's "Sonny" and I'm "Caroline". Sure, you're laughing now. But Caroline was our Mom's name.
It's best not to interrupt Dad on his drunk rants, so Michael quietly helped me up and we locked ourselves in my bedroom.
"What'd he get you for this time?" I asked.
He sighed. "I walked in the door and asked if he'd been drinking. He mumbled something about me being a "nosy little ingrate". Then you came home, and you know how the story plays out from there."
I sighed, too. I've always wanted to just tell someone about Dad. But I know if I did, they'd tell the police, and they'd arrest him. Whenever they released him; or if he escaped; he'd kill us. Literally. He's told us.
Flashback
"RONNIE, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU TELL A SOUL, I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY TWO BARE HANDS!" Dad shouted at me.
I cowered in a corner. He slapped me across the face again, and Michael sobbed, "Dad, you can't possibly mean that!"
He glared angrily at Michael. "Of course I can," he grinned evilly. "Why d'ya think your mother left us a coupla years ago? 'Cuz of you two little brats!"
Michael cried even harder.
I didn't. I just sat silently in my corner. I never cried. At least not in front of Dad. Because I knew...
"Stop that cryin'! Only wussy little girls cry!" Dad slapped Michael.
I knew that would happen. So I just sat, silently, and alone, a scared little 5-year-old boy.
End flashback
"I think he's gone," I whispered to Michael, opening my door slowly. I peeked around the corner and saw Dad, passed out on the living room floor.
I signaled to Michael that it was safe. We crept out, he grabbed his car keys, and he started driving. We had no idea where we were going, but he just kept driving.
"Dad! No!" I shouted as he brought his fist back. My words did not daunt him, because he punched Michael anyways. "Dad!" I cried, grabbing his arm. Smart move, Ronnie. He kicked me where no man wants to get kicked. I doubled over in pain; Dad hits hard when he's drunk. I looked over at Michael. "You alright?" I asked in a strained voice.
He nodded. There was no blood on him. That was good.
"Caroline, I told you not to get in my way!" Dad slurred.
Oh. I almost forgot. Michael and I each have "drunk names". What Dad calls us when he's drunk. Michael's "Sonny" and I'm "Caroline". Sure, you're laughing now. But Caroline was our Mom's name.
It's best not to interrupt Dad on his drunk rants, so Michael quietly helped me up and we locked ourselves in my bedroom.
"What'd he get you for this time?" I asked.
He sighed. "I walked in the door and asked if he'd been drinking. He mumbled something about me being a "nosy little ingrate". Then you came home, and you know how the story plays out from there."
I sighed, too. I've always wanted to just tell someone about Dad. But I know if I did, they'd tell the police, and they'd arrest him. Whenever they released him; or if he escaped; he'd kill us. Literally. He's told us.
Flashback
"RONNIE, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU TELL A SOUL, I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY TWO BARE HANDS!" Dad shouted at me.
I cowered in a corner. He slapped me across the face again, and Michael sobbed, "Dad, you can't possibly mean that!"
He glared angrily at Michael. "Of course I can," he grinned evilly. "Why d'ya think your mother left us a coupla years ago? 'Cuz of you two little brats!"
Michael cried even harder.
I didn't. I just sat silently in my corner. I never cried. At least not in front of Dad. Because I knew...
"Stop that cryin'! Only wussy little girls cry!" Dad slapped Michael.
I knew that would happen. So I just sat, silently, and alone, a scared little 5-year-old boy.
End flashback
"I think he's gone," I whispered to Michael, opening my door slowly. I peeked around the corner and saw Dad, passed out on the living room floor.
I signaled to Michael that it was safe. We crept out, he grabbed his car keys, and he started driving. We had no idea where we were going, but he just kept driving.
♠ ♠ ♠
Another note! I'm pretty positive Ronnie didn't go to school with Max [Did I already say that?], Max had a sister, or that Max grew up in Las Vegas.Comments make Anna happy!
xOxO,
Anna <3