A Lot of Potential

My sister never came home. After a few days of being told we were moving, we were finally settled into our new house. I sat in the new living room, curled up in a blanket. I heard loud footsteps enter the room, bringing in a strong odor of alcohol. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and turned my gaze from the TV to my father who was clutching the wall for support.

"Where's that slut Ella?" he slurred, his eyes half opened.

"Ella is not a slut." I calmly said in her defense.

"Yes she is! God dammit!" he screamed, punching the wall. I grew quiet and sunk in the couch, knowing this wasn't going to be over with anytime soon. "That baby's not mine!"

"How do you know?" I snapped, standing up and folded my arms around my chest.

"Because she's a slut and sleeps around with other guys! She's using me!"

"No she's not Dad, you're just fucking drunk."

"You wanna repeat yourself smart ass?" he screeched, walking closer to me.

My heart thudded in my chest before I answered as harshly as I could. "I said she's not Dad, you're just fucking drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Don't you dare say you're not drunk. I can smell it on your breath. It's noticeable." I hissed, taking a step back from him.

"Well aren't you just a smart whore?" he spat, taking a step closer.

"Dad, shut up and get away." I said, pushing on his chest, ignoring his immature name-calling.

"You're a slut too, that's why you're standing up for her."

"Dad, seriously! Quit before you hurt me." I shrieked, trying to get away from him.

"Slut, slut, slut!" he shouted.

"Dad! You're drunk, quit!" I cried. He picked up his hand and forcefully backhanded me in the jaw. I cried out in pain, falling to the ground. He kicked me in the ribs twice before stepping back and laughing.

"Teach you not to talk back, you tramp." he grumbled, slowly stepping over me and relocating to another room.

I laid there for what seemed to be a eternity, bawling in pain. I needed to leave. I pushed myself up, trying my best to ignore the teeth-gritting ache in my side. I slowly went up the stairs and to my new room. I grabbed a bag and began throwing shirts, pants, pretty much all types of my clothing in it. I zipped the bag and hustled out and back down the stairs, not hesitating on walking out the door.

I walked down the street to a familiar house, pushing the door open without knocking. Alex sat in his living room, eating a hot pocket. He quickly threw it down when he caught the just of what was happening. I held my side, sitting down with him right next to me.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked, eyeing my body language. My lips trembled as the tears still fell. I was scared to tell him what had happened. "Come on baby." he cooed, running his hand across my injured jaw. I moved away quickly, giving him a dead clue I was injured.

I opened my mouth to speak, feeling a stinging pain in the left side of my mouth. "I don't know."

"Baby, you do know." he said, wrapping his arm tightly around my frame.

"Ow!" I hissed, pushing away from him again. Tears began to form in my eyes again. "My, my dad hi-hit me." I whimpered, watching his face turn from sincere to angered.

"He did what?!" he shouted, standing up.

"Alex!" I shrieked, crying more.

"What'd he do to you?" he said calmly, but taking in a sharp breath.

"He backhanded me and he-he kicked me in the rib-ribs." I sobbed, running into his chest.

"He's not going to be able to walk, talk or reproduce ever again after I'm done with him." he harshly said. He began walking angrily towards the door, pulling it open with much force.

"Alex no!" I cried, running behind him. "Alex!"

"No baby, no one lays a hand on you."

"Please don't!" I whined, grabbing his hand and stopping him.

He shook his head in frustration. "I'm not going to let this go." he said, jogging to my house. I began running to keep up with him, creating more pain in my body with each step. He forced the front door open, making it slam violently into the wall. He walked through the house, looking for my father.

He turned the corner to make his way to the office. He stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing becoming heavy and jagged. I watched him carefully, hoping he wouldn't do anything dangerous. I peeked over his shoulder to see my dad standing there, smirking.

"The little cunt can't fight her own fights can she? She's gotta get her little boyfriend drug into it! Ha!" he laughed immaturely. Alex took three steps closer to him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and slamming him into the wall.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled, his voice breaking.

"I have a lot of problems." my father smarted off.

"So you decide to get drunk and hit her?"

"Apparently. Maybe if her and Ella weren't loose sluts I wouldn't of hit her."

Alex's grip tightened on his shirt. "Haley is not a slut!" he said, raising his voice. He rose his fist, slamming it into my dad's jaw. I sunk to the ground in tears, watching the whole fight go on. I drowned out the shouting back and forth and shut my eyes.

"What the?" I heard a female voice say. Ella. "What the hell is going on here? Why is Haley crying?" she asked, kneeling down and rubbing my back soothingly.

"Ask your boyfriend." Alex hissed, not looking away from my dad.

"Robert? What's going on here?"

"I hit the cunt, okay?" he shrugged, pissing Alex off even more.

"You did what?" her voice came slow.

"I HIT the whore! I don't give a fuck if you all have a problem with it, she's a slut! Just like her mother!" he shouted, pointing at me accusingly.

I stood up, my eyes wide in shock. "My mother wasn't a slut! You were the slut! You were the one cheating on her! You're the reason she died!" I screamed, making my ears ring.

He grew silent, knowing what he did. Alex removed his grip and slammed him into the wall again. He backed away and made his way to me, wrapping his arms around my waist carefully, not trying to hurt me. "Maybe it's best if we all leave and let him sober up."

"I think that's a good idea Alex." Ella hissed, giving my dad a 'go-to-hell' look. She stomped out of the house and left with us following behind her. He walked me back to his house, and brought me to the kitchen. He pushed me up onto the counter and moved my head to the left, examining my jaw.

"I just wanna make sure you're in good condition and make sure I don't need to take you to the hospital." he smiled lightly, trying to cheer me up.

"Thanks." I trembled, letting him raise my shirt up. I looked down to see my right cage turning purple.

"Shit." he said with wide eyes.

"I'm fine, can I just sleep?"

"Yeah, take some Tylenol." he grabbed the white bottle, pulling out two red pills. I threw them in my mouth and swallowed dry, then pushed myself off the counter. I walked up the stairs with him on my heels as I walked to his bedroom. I laid down on his soft bed, taking in his sweet scent. I curled close to him, laying my head on my chest.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you too baby. I was going to come see you later, but you got me earlier than expected." he said, trying to find humor in the irrelevant situation.

I giggled lightly, making my side hurt. "Yeah."

"I was going to come and tell you to pack your bags for England in a couple days, but since now you're already with me for a while I guess I don't have to tell you that." he smiled. "The flights are boring, but you'll make them exciting for me."

"I've always wanted to go to England, but not for this occasion." I sighed.

"Me either, but i'll make the most of it for you while we're there, okay?"

"Okay." I smiled, closing my eyes. I listened to him sing a lullaby, smoothly and quietly. I drifted off to sleep, with his arms around me, just like I would any other time.