Damn, I Hate You

"Well, guys, as fun as you guys are, it's about time to go." Mr. B said. Damn, and the class was going so well today. All we'd done was work on the project and discuss Frankford and how much of a bitch she was basically.

I sighed. "But today's one of those days that I just wanna stay here and chill." I said. I leaned myself back in the chair. I was screwed as far as I was concerned. I wasn't excited to go to Jaimie's house because I didn't want to fight with her about her sister again. Then the whole thing with my dad... I didn't even want to think about that.

"Lemme get this straight; you spend all day sitting around brooding because you hate school and now suddenly you don't wanna leave? You're a complicated one." He laughed at me and shook his head. He may know a lot of things about me, but he could never understand this dilema.

"You wanna go to my place?" Jaimie asked as the bell rang.

"Well, I'm thinkin I should go home, if nothing else for a change of clothes." I said. I wanted to make the house perfect, sort of kiss ass to my dad as a prayer for mercy.

"You sure you'll be ok?" she asked, but I gave her a face warning her to keep her voice down. Don't get Mr. B into this! He's the nosy kind of person who, if he even heard that question, would expect to get in my business and drag out my dirty little secret. I nodded quietly and motioned for her to exit.

As we walked my mind flooded with possibilities. Don't think about it, Deryk. It might end up ok. No, just don't bother even going home. But I'll have to eventually, and the longer I wait, the more angry he'll get. Hell, he could get the cops on me for being a run-away and then beat the shit out of me for the hassle! Fuck, I'm screwed.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Was I being quiet?

"Nothin'" I lied.

"Well, you're usually so happy and loud. Well, since I got to know you at least. You seem all down, though, which is weird considering how you were behaving in detention." she pressed.

"Uh. Well, I dunno. It's complicated. Just one of those times when I'm thinkin' random shit." I lied. Random shit sounds like me, right?

"Hmmm. Like what?" Fuck Deryk. Make something good up.

"Well, consider the idea that there is no God." I began, and went on and on about religion until we finally reached her porch and I kissed her good-bye.

"You sure you don't wanna chill?" She asked. I didn't want to leave her. But I had to try to suck up and not die. I love you, that's why I must be here for you in the morning, baby.

"No. I gotta go home and do some stuff." I said, finally telling the truth. "I'll call you, though, alright?" I said. She nodded and I started my journey home. I blared metal music through my ear buds so as not to be able to think. I should know by now that that never works.

I got inside and started cleaning away. I started with the tons of empty beer cans on the floor. Shit, wonder how much he drank last night. Oh fuck, please tell me he went to work? I checked his room and it seemed like the coast was clear. Maybe he was late so he'd have to work overtime. Maybe he was going to be at work all night? Maybe I was home free?

Wrong. Six o'clock came by too quickly, and so did Daddy Dearest.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked when he saw me sitting on the lazy boy. "I thought you were finally gone for good."

"No. I wanted to come back to appologize." I said.

"I don't want your bullshit." He said, smacking me across the face with the back of his hand. Ok, not too bad. So far, no fist.

"I'm sorry, though, Dad." I pleaded.

"I don't give a fuck. Wait, wait. What you did last night? You messed up my knee!" he remembered. Oh shit, hangover wasn't good enough. He pulled me up and out of the chair. Bad idea to try to reconcile. Go into a happy place, Deryk. Fall into your angel's arms? No, pretend she's in yours? Be anywhere but here.

*********

******************

*********

My head was pounding. It was two in the morning when I woke up. I could barely move my arms or legs, but I was face down on the appartment floor and I couldn't feel my face, I realized. I reached for it to make sure it was ok, but all I felt were sticky flecks. Fuck, this is bad.

I tried to stand, only to find most of the furniture had been overturned. I wasn't in a happy place- I was unconcious. My eyes took awhile to adjust, but finally I was able to gather my surroundings. I went along the wall, more leaning on it than feeling at it, and turned on a lightswitch. There was some blood in various spots on the carpet. Fuck, I got messed up. What did he do? Where was he now?

I limped over to his bedroom and listened carefully. I heard his heavy breathing and felt subtle releif. Go to bed, Deryk. It'll be better later.

As I entered my room, I couldn't sleep so I decided to inspect myself carefully. I lifted my shirt to find a few cuts across my shoulders and chest. Apparently Dad broke a bottle. I found a few new bruises and bumps on my arms, probably from futile blocking and a few on my legs, obviously from when he knocked me over so I would be unable to fight back. Then I went to a mirror to check on my face.

Half the skin was scraped off of my left cheek. My eye was already swollen and bruised. My neck had a thumb-sized bruise. Did I have enough concealer to hide this? Better yet, am I going to keep this charade up?