The Dark of the Night More Inviting Than the Sunlight

Dawn's Point of View

"I... don't know. I mean, I'd love to, but..." I said hesitantly and started chewing on my lip insecurely. I couldn't help but notice how Sky's face fell which made me realize how much I was hurting her. "Alright, I'll come," Sky wrapped her arms around me and it felt like she was never going to let me go. It felt good, I didn't want her to let go of me either. It made me realize how much I really needed her.

We all went straight to Sky's house. Dan was carrying me on his back, Bert was doing the same with Sky and Quinn was riding a skateboard, that I hadn't seen before. It was worn out, so it couldn't be new.

"Hey Quinn, where did you steal that skateboard?" I asked mockingly and my eyes widened slightly when I heard his answer.

"Branden's office," he grinned smugly, setting off Bert's unique high-pitched laughter.

"He's going to kill you, man!" Bert said jokingly, dragging out on the word man.

I had the greatest time that entire weekend at Sky's place. Her parents were out of town and her little sister, Melanie, was spending the weekend at a friend's house. So basically we had an entire house, with a garden and a trampoline, all for ourselves.

We didn't give a crap about the fact that it was only about 50 degrees outside, in other words "fucking freezing cold" as Dan like to put it. I and Sky couldn't help it, we just "had to" throw ourselves into one of the swimming pools, when we were all walking down the streets of the more expensive, "exclusive" parts of Orem. To our pleasant surprise the pool was warmed up and approximately the water was about 86°F. Naturally, we didn't want to get out of the pool since the warm water felt so nice against our cold skin. Unfortunately, the owners of the house didn't seem pleased at all to see us there, swimming around in our clothes.

I can't remember whose idea it was, but somehow we ended up hiding on top of a roof, throwing water balloons on by passers. Since it was freezing outside, they got furious at us, and on second thought, it was a pretty mean thing to do. All I can say is that, it was as if we were all acting that way in order to get an outlet for our frustration and restlessness. The fact that we all knew it was wrong made the thought of it even more tempting.

I felt rebellious, I think we all did. Especially when we saw that police car slowing down by the side of the road below us. Evidently, we rushed, some of us even jumped, down from the roof and ran. Ran as fast as we possibly could and hid inside of an empty container. The adrenaline rushing through our veins, our hearts beating real fast and our breathes were short and fast as we tried to catch our breathe.

"Holy shit, let's not do that again. Ever," Sky sighed, holding her hand above her chest. Bert wrapped his arm around her with faint smile on his face and she leaned in to rest her head upon his shoulder.

"Come on sweety, it was fun," Bert said in a low voice as he was streaking the locks of hair out of her face.

"Yeah you're right, it was kind of fun..." she giggled and pecked his nose lightly. The way they were looking at each other as their blue eyes met, made me feel warm inside. They really loved each other, that showed, and I found myself hoping that nothing would ever come between them. Ever.

It also made me feel a bit sad. I missed having someone to rely on in that way. Someone to open up to and get vulnerable with. I never opened up completely to Quinn when we were a couple. I kept lying to him about my father, to protect him from the ugly truth and I think that played a big part in the ending of our relationship. I wish I could go back in time to change that. I wish my mother had never... committed suicide, then my father wouldn't be this way. It was like a demon entered him when mom died, a demon of grief and anger.

We all have our different ways to deal with sorrow. My father choose to try drowning it in alcohol and act out his anger on me. My brother, Liam, put his main focus on his studies and went to visit our mother's grave to release the heavy burden from his chest. He was the only one who allowed himself to miss mom, sometimes he even acted like she was still around. I... I still didn't know how to fill the empty hole in my chest and handle the sorrow. My father forbids me to talk about her and I haven't visited her gravestone in years now, because I'm scared. I'm scared of remembering her and I'm afraid I'll just miss her even more and the hole in my chest will expand. I try to forget that she ever even existed, because it hurts so much to remember.

Liam doesn't know that dad beats me. No one does. Apart from me and dad, that is. I like to keep it that way, because if nobody else knows, it's easier to pretend that it doesn't happen.

Eventually, the wonderful weekend I spent with my closest and the most wonderful friends you can imagine, ended and it was time for me to face the reality. I had to go back home, where I knew my drunken, furious father was waiting for me. Of course I was nervous for what was about to happen, but I couldn't postpone my problems anymore.

He fucking hit me in the face. He had never done that before, because he knew as well as I that it was much harder to hide bruises in the face. My eyebrow got busted and the warm blood flooded down my face as he started kicking me as I was lying on the carpet, trying desperately to catch my breathe. I ended up lying in the fetus position, with my arms covering my head as I waited for him to stop. I tried not to cry, because the tears meant nothing to him when he was in this state, they only made him angrier. "Take it like a man," he would say. But I'm not a man, I'm just a child. I'm just a little girl who lost her mother in the grocery store. I'm afraid and don't know what to do without her. What if I never get to see her again?

I tried not to feel the pain, I tried not to miss my mom, I tried not to want my brother to come home and see for himself what dad was doing to me. If Liam knew, I know he would protect me. He wouldn't leave me alone with dad ever again. That's why I was determined to never let him know, because he couldn't go around worry about me all day. He had to finish college and start a new life, get a job, meet a girl, or a boy for that matter. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy. Just one more year and I would be eighteen, then I would never have to see my father again. Ever. No one would ever have to know about the abuse and it would be so much easier for me to repress.

After he was done, he ordered me to get the fuck up on my feet and turn of the lights in the kitchen, as if nothing had happened. He made it sound like I was just lazily laying around on the floor being idle. On unsteady legs I got up and walked over to the kitchen window where I glanced out on the dark street. To my great surprise I saw a well-known figure standing on the sidewalk across the street. It was Bert, and he was looking directly at me for a brief moment before he continued walking down the street, towards home, I presume.

Did he know? Had he heard the noise and witnessed when my father was taking out his anger on me? I hope not. Maybe he was just passing by. Perhaps I was just being paranoid. Of course he hadn't noticed, not even the neighbors had noticed after all those years. Or if they had, they choose to ignore it, probably thinking it was none of their business. If so, they were right. It was none of their business. Because it's mine and my father's little secret, as he liked to put it when it first started. Our dark little secret.

"Miss Jones, what happened to your eyebrow?" Mrs. Wilbur, my math teacher, asked with a slight frown painted on her face as I was about to enter the classroom.

"Oh, I hit my head in the cupboard this morning," I put on a reassuring smile and looked straight into her dark brown eyes. The lie came so naturally and easy, I even surprised myself. She smiled back at me briefly.

"I think you ought to pay a visit at the nurse's office and let him have a look at it. It's bleeding through the bandage, you might need stitches," she said in a friendly voice.

"Oh I didn't realize that, I'll be back as soon as possible Mrs. Wilbur," I informed her.

"It's alright, take your time. You're before the rest of the class anyway," she said, winking at me. I smiled at the kind woman in front of me before I turned to leave.

"Hey, what happened to you?" Branden greeted me, forming a frown on his forehead. I decided to stick to the cupboard-story. "Okay, let's have a look at it. This might sting a bit." He carefully removed the bandage and held up a wad, drenched in some strong liquid, to my wound. I flinched at the sudden wave of pain, but soon got used to the stinging sensation as he continued to dab the injury gently.

The way he was being so careful in his movements reminded me of my mother's soft hands. It brought me back in time to the day I first learned how to ride a bike. I fell and grazed my knees, I cried, convinced that I was going to die when I saw the blood. My beautiful mother smiled assuringly at me and told me that everything was going to be alright, that it was just a scratch. I'm not sure if it's even a real memory, but it was enough to bring tears into my eyes.

"How could she?" I asked myself in a low whisper. "How could she just leave me like that when I needed her the most?" My lower lip started shivering and I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks. I missed her. I missed her so much.

"Dawn? Who are you talking about?" Branden slowly lifted up my chin and our eyes met.

"Mom. Why did she do it? Why did she... kill herself?" I cried. I hadn't talked about it in years. His brown eyes were full with compassion and honest sadness as he looked at me.

"I have no answer to that," he said truthfully. "I wish I knew though. Then maybe I'd understand why my father did the same thing," he sounded so sad when he spoke those words.

"How old were you when it happened?" I asked silently.

"Eleven... you?" His eyes never left mine as we spoke.

"Ten. How did you handle it?" I asked, desperate to know how to get rid off all the hard feelings.

"I tried to stop feeling and put all force into skating," he whispered. "But can never stop feeling, no matter how hard you try. I never stopped feeling guilty and ask myself why he did it."

"So... am I always going to feel like this?" my voice sounded so pitiful.

"It's going to get better, in time. But you have to allow yourself to miss her, it's okay to mourn, it's okay to be angry... Maybe one day you'll be able to accept the fact that she's gone and... fill the hole with the memory of her rather than the sorrow you get from missing her..." He carefully removed the damp locks of hair from my face and smiled weakly at me. "It's okay to cry, Dawn."

I don't know how it happened or why. Maybe because we were sharing a highly vulnerable moment, where we exposed small pieces of our souls, that we had kept hidden from the world for a long time, to each other. We kissed. His soft lips met mine and we stayed like that for a while, our were tongues dancing around inside of our warm mouths, before we realized what we were doing and parted.

"This wound claims stitches," he commented, smiling at me with a light flush upon his cheeks and turned to look after the equipment he would need to stitch me up.