Who Can Really Blame You?

When I finally go home, my dad’s car is still there. I stare at it, and decide to go into my room through the window. I’m climbing the side of the garage as the front door opens and my dad stumbles to the car. I don’t move, and hope he doesn’t notice. He pulls out, and my arms are strained from holding myself up for so long. I jump back down and head to the front door, where I enter the house no problem.

I step inside, and stare at everything. It’s even more trashed than usual. I cautiously step over the broken things on the floor and rush to my room to see if he’s ruined it too.

I gasp when I get to my room. The door is broken off it’s hinges. My bed’s literally broken in half, the splintered wood holding the bent mattress up. I look to my bookshelf, knocked over, with pages from books torn out and laying everywhere. My clothes are everywhere, but not damaged.

I can’t breathe.

I fumble for my phone in my pocket, and turn it on. I ignore the twenty-seven missed calls, and scroll through my contacts to decide to call. I consider Hank, but I don’t want to leave.

I go to my missed calls and hit send over Talia’s name.

She answers immediately.

“Ainsley! I’m so pissed at you!” she practically screams. I look around my room, my eyes filling up.

“Can you come get me?” I ask her shakily.

“What… What’s wrong?” she asks, worriedly. I hear the door downstairs open. He must have forgotten his wallet.

“Fuck,” I mutter as my dad yells something, “I’ll meet you on Rose Street in five minutes, please?”

“Ainsley!” My dad yells. I rush to the window at struggle to get it open, and feel my heart sink when it’s jammed. I panic, and hurry into the closet, Talia still on the line.

“If you’re not there I’m calling the cops,” she tells me as my dad comes into the room. I watch him through the slats in the closet and hit end on the call, before sitting it on the ground. I hold my breath as he yells for me, stumbling over the things he broke. I cover my face as he approaches the closet. I feel his hand grasp my shirt, and pull me out of the closet.

“D-dad!” I exclaim as he wraps his fingers around my neck.

“Just like your fucking whore mother,” he spits in my face. I wince. He tightens his grip on my neck, and I try to loosen his fingers with my own. He grabs my wrists with one of his hands, and tightens his hold on my throat with the other.

My vision is going black and I’m gasping for oxygen when I decide that I have to live through this.

I kick him as hard as I can in between the legs, making him let go of me and yell out in pain. I grab my phone off the floor of my closet and rush down the steps, not knowing where my shoes are, and not caring at this point.

“God damn it!” My dad roars. I shove open the front screen door and run all the way to Rose Street, knowing I’m a minute late, but no one’s there. I look nervously down the road towards my house and sigh when I don’t see anyone. I look down at my feet and wince at the cuts on them, which are bleeding into the grass. I pull out my phone and dial Talia’s number, all the while watching my house down the road. Still nothing.

“Where are you?” I ask Talia when she answers.

“Home,” she says, making me feel sick, “Carter won’t drive us to come get you. He said that you told him to stop bugging you.”

“Talia,” I say, feeling tears start down my face, “Please.”

“It’s what he said,” she says angrily. I start down the road again, not knowing where I’m going. “What happened?” she asks me.

“When?” I ask, wiping my eyes.

“With you and Carter,” she says. My stomach sinks.

“Oh,” I say quietly, turning onto a main road, “I told him I like him, and asked him to stay away from me so I can get over it. The he kissed me to make me feel better so I left.”

Talia is silent.

“You left because he kissed you.” She says, “That makes no sense.”

“He kissed me to make me feel better, Talia,” I mutter, “He didn’t mean it.”

“Did you ask if he meant it?” she asks me. I wipe at my eyes again.

“No,” I say, “He’s straight. Of course he didn’t mean to k-kiss me.”

“Ainsley,” she pleads, “Don’t cry.”

“I c-can’t help it!” I wail, covering my eyes. “If this is going to be my whole life, then I don’t think it’s worth it,” I say quietly.

“Of course it’s worth it,” she says forcefully, “You have so many people who love you.”

“Love me, but don’t love me,” I say sadly, sitting on the sidewalk and watching cars fly past me. I look the way I’ve come and grimace at the bloody footprints leading up to me.

“Someday,” Talia tells me, “It’ll happen for you eventually. You’re a great person.”

“No I’m not,” I say, “I’m an awful person.”

“No you’re not. Everyone has their faults,” she tells me, “Where are you?”

“Not on Rose anymore,” I say, looking for a street sign, and not seeing one, “Maybe Main Street.”

“What happened?” she asks.

“My dad tried to choke me,” I sigh. She falls silent. “I dunno what to do, Talia,” I say, “I can’t stay there anymore, but I don’t want to go live with someone I don’t know.”

“Well, me and Tayler were looking up stuff online last night, like about if you’d have to go into foster care or if we could take you in, and we found something that might work,” she says, sounding nervous.

“What?” I ask, sitting up a bit straighter.
“You’re 16,” she tells me, “Get emancipated. You can become a legal adult, and just get an apartment.”

“Maybe,” I say, after pausing for a long moment, “But what about tonight?”

“What about it?” she asks. I stare at the sky.

“I don’t know,” I reply. She sighs.

“I think you need to find somewhere to stay. I’m sorry we don’t have any room here.” She says.

“No worries,” I say, “I’m going to go. I think I’ll call my aunt.”

“She doesn’t live in this town,” Talia says.

“I know,” I say, “But I can stay there until I figure out what’s happening.”

“I love you, Ainsley,” she says seriously.

“I love you too,” I say, and hang up.

“Now, I’m going to go in and get clothes and your shoes, okay?” my Aunt Carol tells me. I nod.

“Be careful,” I say. She looks at me and nods, and I watch her go inside. I sigh, knowing I’m burdening her.

She returns a moment later, with a trash bag, and hands it to me, along with my sneakers.

“So what’s the plan?” she asks as we pull out of the driveway, and start down the road.

“I’m going to get emancipated from my dad,” I say. She looks at me.

“You think you’re ready for that?” she asks.

“It’s… It’s the only thing I can think of if I want to stay in this town with my friends and go to the same school, but not live with my dad,” I reply.

“He’s getting that bad?” she asks. As his sister, she knows he has bad drinking problems, and knows that I usually end up hurt. She never really did much for me, only because of how far we live from each other, and maybe that’s why I try not to ask her for help.

“Yes,” I say simply, digging through the bag for a pair of socks. I slip mismatched ones over my bloody feet and then pull on my shoes. We stop at a red light.

“I’ll get the papers from the firm,” she says, “And I’ll represent you in court.”

I stare at her, almost having forgotten that she’s a lawyer.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. The light turns green.