What If You Stay?

The day passed by quickly, mostly because there weren’t many people that had problems with their cars so the guy and I pretty much just sat around and talked most of the day. Currently, Paul was dropping my off at home after work kissing me before he was to leave to drop off his car at home, making a stop at Sam’s before coming back over through my window.

“Open your window for me so I can come in without your dad noticing.” Paul said to remind me.

“I will.” I said smiling as I lean in to kiss him on last time before climbing out of the car.

I walked up to the door, turning around to watch Paul pull out of the driveway and headed in the direction where he lives before I was to head inside. Once he was out of sight, I turned to let myself inside shutting the door behind me and turned to head up toward my bedroom until I saw dad standing directly in front of me. The look on his face was the same one he gave me back in Tennessee whenever he got drunk after mom’s death. A drunken, harsh, angry look. Trailing my eyes toward down his arm to his hand, I saw a beer bottle half full.

I went to take a deep breath to calm my nerves but when I did, I got a big whiff of the smell of beer. I lightly gagged at the smell, not being used to the smell. I was starting to get used to him being sober these past couple of week since he told me that we were moving.

“What’s the matter?” dad slurred taking a step toward me. “The fact that you are at fault of your mother’s death making you sick.”

He started walking directly toward me and I backed up until my back came in contact with the front door. Dad didn’t stop until he was directly in front of me and I could instantly smell the alcohol coming from almost every piece of clothing that he was wearing, especially his mouth when he opened it to talk or breath.

“It’s because of you that your mother is gone. The love of my life, my wife.” Dad continued to slur.

I then felt the bottle come against my head splashing the beer all over me as I fell to the floor from the contact. Tears started to fall freely from my eyes from the amount of pain that I was feeling on the right side of my head where the bottle came in contact with me. I lifted a hand up to feel what kind of damage there were and I nearly gagged again when I felt mostly blood, and I definitely was not a fan of blood.

I tried looking at the man I was supposed to call my father, but the pain became intense that I had to stay down and continue to look downward. Feeling a pair of hands around my shoulder, I was starting to be dragged from the front door, down the hallway and into my bedroom where he threw me in and slammed the door close, making a clicking noise. I tried standing up to get to the door, but my body was becoming weak so I had to crawl.

I tested the door knob to open it, but it wouldn’t budge and I realized that my dad hand turned the knob around so the lock was on the outside which was how I was locked in my room until who knows when. I crawled my way back to my bed to curl up against and sobbed.

No matter how much I was told that it wasn’t my fault that my mom was killed, I can’t help but think that it was, all because of a horse. We were living on a horse ranch in Tennessee with my Grandparents Hendrix, my mom’s parents. Some of the workers had caught a horse, a black stallion to be exact and brought it on the ranch. He was a beauty and I told my mom that I would like to keep him knowing that I wouldn’t be able to with the fact that he was a wild horse.

However, I didn’t expect mom to actually try to train him so I could keep him. The next morning, she had gotten up early to start training him unaware to anyone. She had got outside to the ring that we had set up for him and got inside with the stallion. Over course the stallion wasn’t happy with my mom getting close to him so he knocked her down and trampled her to death.

I was the one that had found her a couple of hours later when I went to check up on him only to find my mom broken and blooded on the dirt floor. I lost how long I was standing there staring at her, not knowing what to do, knowing that it was too late, until Grandpa Hendrix noticed that there was something wrong, with me, and came over to find his baby girl, only daughter out of four kids, dead in front of me. He turned me away to call for my dad to take me inside and away from the scene and my Grandma Hendrix to call 911.

So all because I wanted some stupid horse, my mom was killed and now buried six feet underground. Maybe it was my fault that my mom was dead. If I hadn’t like that horse and wanted to keep it, mom would have been here with me right now and my father wouldn’t be a drunk. But then if that happened, I would have never met Paul and who knows if would have ever met or go off marrying other people and having a family never knowing that we were designed to be together.

A sound came from the window, but I didn’t bother to look up. I figured that it probably was Paul trying to open the window to get inside quickly more than likely seeing me on the floor curled up against my bed crying. The window opened and I heard footsteps rushing toward me before I felt a warm body beside me and I knew that it was Paul the minute he pulled me into his lap to hold me.

“Colby, look at me please. Tell me what’s wrong.” Paul’s pleaded.

I shook my head not want him to see what had just happened to me which was a bad idea because I started to become dizzy seeing black spots in my vision. Paul must have sensed something or could smell the blood because he forcefully moved my arms from around my face and made me look at him. He immediately started shaking violently which I had to grab his arms to stop him because it wasn’t help none.

“Come on, I’m getting you out of here.” Paul said standing up still holding me walking toward my window. “Where is the key to your truck?”

“Pocket.” I answered resting my head against his shoulder.

Paul reached into my pocket to pull out my keys and climbed out the window and rushed me toward my truck. He got me into the passenger’s seat, buckled up safely before rushing to the driver’s side and quickly pulled away from the house heading toward Forks.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked feeling myself drowsing off.

“The hospital. You’re losing a lot of blood and there are some glass in some of the cuts.” Paul answered with his voice fading until everything around me went silent and black.