Status: Active :)
God Bless the Broken Road
Chapter One
You know how you could be minding your own business one minute and the next you are being yelled at? Well that happened to me last week. I was in my room doing something for school, when my dad came crashing into my room, screaming.
Instantly I knew he was drunk, from the look in his eyes to the way he was swaying as he stood over me. I also knew that when he is like this there is no arguing with him.
I sighed and put my pen down. “Daddy, how much have you had to drink this time?”
“I don’t need to tell you shit.” He bellowed.
I didn’t flinch at his harsh tone, I just stood there with my arms folded across my chest. I had to get him to bed so he could sleep it off. That’s what we’ve been doing the entire month after we moved up here. He’d get drunk and I’d put him to bed so he could sleep it off.
I got off my bed and walked over to my father. “Come on daddy, let’s get you to bed.” I said, placing my hand on his arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” He yelled, raising his hand.
What came next shocked me, my father drew back his hand and back handed me across the face. He hit me so hard I landed on the floor. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes as I brought my hand to the burning flesh. I looked back at the man I called daddy with shocked eyes, he hit me. He has never ever laid a hand on me since I can remember.
The anger and violence left his eyes as soon as he saw the tears. “Oh Kenzie, baby I’m so sorry.” He said, extending his hand to help me up.
I hesitantly took it and let him pull me up. As soon as I was on my feet, I put space between the two of us. “Dad, I think you need to go to bed.” I told him, walking into my bathroom and locking the door behind me.
“Alright, I love you, Mackenzie”
“Good night, dad.”
That night I stayed in the bathroom until I was sure he was asleep. Never in my life have I been afraid of my father. That was the first week though, the following weeks things got worse. He would beat me multiple times a day for no reason. One time he left me barely conscience on my floor. As things continued, I became more afraid of my father. I would lock myself in my bathroom to keep him away from me. I would try and stay out as late as possible and hope, as I was creeping in the back door, that he had already passed out for the night.
Tonight though was the worse night by far. He came to my room four times and each time he added more bruises and marks. After the fourth time, I couldn’t breath from the kicking I took and the pain that radiated through my chest every time I tried to drawl a breath was the worse pain I‘ve ever felt in my life. My left eye was swollen shut and I could taste blood in my mouth from a cut. I knew at that moment that I couldn’t stay here any more. I packed my bag and cleaned myself up the best I could before changing into my favorite skinny jeans and Reebok hoodie.
About an hour later I heard my dad’s snores coming from downstairs. I crept over to my window and quietly opened it, tossing my bag on the ground below. Before climbing out of the window I left dad a note telling him that I was leaving and that I would call him eventually. Once the letter was in its place, I climbed out the window and reached from the tree. Once I was on solid ground, I grabbed my bag and turned away from my house and into a quiet night in Thunder Bay. Never to look back.
Instantly I knew he was drunk, from the look in his eyes to the way he was swaying as he stood over me. I also knew that when he is like this there is no arguing with him.
I sighed and put my pen down. “Daddy, how much have you had to drink this time?”
“I don’t need to tell you shit.” He bellowed.
I didn’t flinch at his harsh tone, I just stood there with my arms folded across my chest. I had to get him to bed so he could sleep it off. That’s what we’ve been doing the entire month after we moved up here. He’d get drunk and I’d put him to bed so he could sleep it off.
I got off my bed and walked over to my father. “Come on daddy, let’s get you to bed.” I said, placing my hand on his arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” He yelled, raising his hand.
What came next shocked me, my father drew back his hand and back handed me across the face. He hit me so hard I landed on the floor. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes as I brought my hand to the burning flesh. I looked back at the man I called daddy with shocked eyes, he hit me. He has never ever laid a hand on me since I can remember.
The anger and violence left his eyes as soon as he saw the tears. “Oh Kenzie, baby I’m so sorry.” He said, extending his hand to help me up.
I hesitantly took it and let him pull me up. As soon as I was on my feet, I put space between the two of us. “Dad, I think you need to go to bed.” I told him, walking into my bathroom and locking the door behind me.
“Alright, I love you, Mackenzie”
“Good night, dad.”
That night I stayed in the bathroom until I was sure he was asleep. Never in my life have I been afraid of my father. That was the first week though, the following weeks things got worse. He would beat me multiple times a day for no reason. One time he left me barely conscience on my floor. As things continued, I became more afraid of my father. I would lock myself in my bathroom to keep him away from me. I would try and stay out as late as possible and hope, as I was creeping in the back door, that he had already passed out for the night.
Tonight though was the worse night by far. He came to my room four times and each time he added more bruises and marks. After the fourth time, I couldn’t breath from the kicking I took and the pain that radiated through my chest every time I tried to drawl a breath was the worse pain I‘ve ever felt in my life. My left eye was swollen shut and I could taste blood in my mouth from a cut. I knew at that moment that I couldn’t stay here any more. I packed my bag and cleaned myself up the best I could before changing into my favorite skinny jeans and Reebok hoodie.
About an hour later I heard my dad’s snores coming from downstairs. I crept over to my window and quietly opened it, tossing my bag on the ground below. Before climbing out of the window I left dad a note telling him that I was leaving and that I would call him eventually. Once the letter was in its place, I climbed out the window and reached from the tree. Once I was on solid ground, I grabbed my bag and turned away from my house and into a quiet night in Thunder Bay. Never to look back.
♠ ♠ ♠
Edited