Living is a nightmare, suicide's reality

Chapter 8

Frank and i sprinted down the stairs together. I could tell he was in agony but he carried on regardless of the pain. When we reached the kitchen we found Lisa lying on the floor, a deep slash across her arm. Frank knelt down beside her and took his shirt off. He wrapped it around her arm to stop the blood pouring out. Poor Frank. That was his favourite t shirt aswell. While he was seeing to Lisa, i looked frantically for Savannah. Her and dad were nowhere to be seen. I rushed out into the garden. Dad was stood over Savannah, a pitchfork in his right hand. Shit.
'You're a sick, twisted bastard, you know that,' Savannah spat at him. He growled and brought the pitchfork down. The sharp blades of the pitchfork flew into her hand, piercing it straight through. She screamed in agony and kicked dad hard in the shin. He fell to his knees, groaning. She staggered to her feet and ran up to me.
'What the fuck is he on?' she was crying with the pain. I put my arm round her shoulder to support her. We stumbled towards the kitchen. Frank was still on the floor, next to Lisa. When we ran in, he spun round. His face went white when he saw Savannah's hand.
'We have to get out of here,' he muttered to no one in particular. He headed outside, but when he saw dad, he came straight back in.
'The basement,' he mumbled. He lifted Lisa off of the floor. He struggled to carry her. He was so weak nowadays. I wonder why.
I helped him with Lisa, then went to help Savannah. When we were in the basement, i switched on the light and locked the door. I collected some strips of old cloth from the corner and wrapped them round Savannah's hand. She was almost screaming from the pain. I knew what it felt like to be stabbed by a pitchfork. It hurt like hell. Guess who stabbed me with it. Straight through my foot. Then when we got to the hospital, he said Frank and i were playing in the garden and i picked it up and dropped it on my foot. How they believed that one i will never know. I looked over at Lisa. She was on the brink of unconsciousness. Frank was stroking her hair and whispering to her to stay awake. I almost started laughing. I mean, 4 teenagers stuck in a basement hiding from their crazy father who had beaten them since they could remember. It sounded like a bad story line. But it was real. When we were little, Frank used to make up games for us to play. One time he got too carried away. He pretended to be dad, chasing me. It all got too real and he hit me round the face. It scared the shit out of me that he could turn out like that.
I shook my head to get rid of the horrible images in my head. What's the point in thinking about the past. You can't change your past. I should be more concerned with what was happening right now. Savannah's hand needed a hospital. She was gonna lose a hell of a lot of blood if she didn't get help. What the hell had we got ourselves into?


My hand poured blood. It hurt more than anything in my life. It was all i could do not to scream out. Lisa looked bad. Her pale face was paler than usual. Frank's shirt was soaked with her blood. I looked at Frank. His torso was covered in bruises, cuts, scars and burns. There were fresh cuts all over. Recent cuts which im guessing was from just before we came over. Anna had taken her jacket off, revealing her pale arms. All the way up to the elbow was covered in scars on both arms. But i could tell they were self inflicted. I suddenly felt so sorry for them both. They were young. Younger than me anyway. That made them 15, maybe younger. I was 16 and i knew for a fact that they were younger than me. 15 and they had already gone through all that. No one should have to put up with daily beatings from their father. No one.


I felt so sleepy. I had my head buried in Frank's chest. It was covered in marks. I shook my head and ignored them. What was i doing here again? Soemthing to do with Frank. Homework or something. My arm throbbed but i couldn't really feel it anymore. I was glad. I remembered searing pain. I didn't want that again. It hurt. I giggled as Frank stroked my hair. I didn't know what i was doing. I couldn't remeber. That sounded funny. I don't know why, but i wanted to laugh. But i wanted to sleep aswell. I should have gone to bed earlier, i thought. I was so tired....