Struggles

"Sir Duke, Sir Duke!" my best bud Charles Lee Jordon, a.k.a. Chaz, yelled as he ran up behind me. I ducked and he flew over me.
"Sup Chaz?" I asked as he recovered his balance. He glared at me with brown eyes for a second.
"You got plans for the summer?" Chaz asked wiping sweat from his chocolate brown face. He stopped walking for as he adjusted the magnet on his crammed full school bag.
"Naw, my summer's gonna be a pooper, no fun at all." I answered. Chaz and I had gotten used to using 1950's slang we had learned in history.
"Yeah, I'm stuck in South Carolina for two months with some big daddy spaz! He's dying and I have to lose two months of my summer." Chaz complained. I nodded, he was lucky to have a big family. My mom split when I was two, and all of my dads relatives died. All that was left was him, me, and my older brother Michael Bloom Bentley a.k.a. Mike or Double B. Mike's twenty years old and has been going to college for two years now, he's engaged to a lady from his math class, they were freshman together in high school and now plan to get married in late August. He was my dads favorite kid, he looked like dad and not at all like mom. Dad hates me and I look just like her, I could even be her shorter twin or something.
"At least you get to out! I'm here all summer, again!" I told him.
"Hang out with Kerry then." Chaz suggested. My face lit up for a moment. Kerry Lynn Wood wasn't one of those fake girls. She didn't wear make-up or expensive jewelry, no brand name clothes or five star restruants. She was down-to-Earth and cool, she wasn't afraid to voice her opinions. She was about five foot four with long wavy brown hair. She had a nice even sun tan and sparkeling emerald eyes. Her nails were always painted black and she always wore jeans and a T-shirt from Wal-Mart. She was happy with Wal-Mart clothes and McDonald food. Her, Chaz and I were all fifteen years old.
"Yeah, Kerry... Wait no! She's leaving this week, she'll be gone for two whole weeks. She's going to Guatemala with her church on that mission trip." I groaned, my face diming again.
"Awww, it's okay man. We'll both be back in no time, 'kay?" Chaz said tapping my shoulder with his hand.
"Yeah, you're right. Hey, you gotta go. Your bus's here." I said with a wave. Chaz took off in a sprint to his bus, waving as he ran. I shook my head as he boarded his bus, and left down the path past the Senior Wing at Spring-Ford Senior High School. It's the senior high school because it only holds tenth grade through twelth grade. Across Lewis Road was the Nineth Grade Center and to the right of that was the Eighth Grade Center. I crossed the road to the nineth grade center and cut through the parking lot. I made a left when I reached Sixth Avenue, then a right when I got to Gay Street. After about half a block I got to my house. It was white and small-looking from the outside, but fairly big on the inside. I looked down the driveway, the sky blue van was there.
"Dang it." I mumbled to myself. Dad was home, of course. School had gotten out early for once and Dad had to be home. I went up to our front door, a plain white door with a window at the top and dirty scratch marks from a dog we used to have. I took a breath and opened the door. Dad wasn't in the living room, which meant he was at the computer in the dining room. I slowly took a breath and went into the house and closed the door. Dad got out of his seat and went to the kitchen, ignoring me. I glanced after him and sighed, today was going to be a long day.
"You're early, why are you early? School doesn't let out for another two hours." my dad said. I watched him as he poured himself some tea.
"It... It was the last day of school, so we got out early." I said looking at my feet. I shifted my school bag on my shoulder and started to scoot by my dad, heading to my room.
"Of course, well in that case you have chores to do. You have to clean the bathroom and do all the dishes. You need to sweep the dining room, kitchen and the bathroom, then you need to mop all three. Also, dinner needs to be ready no later than five today, and make it something quick to eat, I'm leaving at six after we eat and I shower."
"Yes sir. TV dinner or something in the oven?" I asked him. He looked at me.
"When the hell do I ever choose to eat freezer burnt food over homemade food? What the hell is wrong with you? Go do what I told you to do, go do your chores." he said with a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry." I said as I continued on to my room. I heard my dad in the livingroom, sitting down on the couch, turning on the news, grunting at the weather. I lowered my eyes and went into my room.
My room wasn't the room of a typical room of the average white fifteen year old american, it was the room of your typical single, middle-aged white man. My room is a small ten by eleven room with one white door and one window right next to the two by one-and-a-half closet. I have a beige carpet and cream walls. I have a twin bed pushed up
against two walls. I have a long cherry oak dresser under my window and next to my closet, taking up the whole wall. I have a radio on my dresser along with about twenty books. I have nothing hung up on my walls and no pictures laying around my room. It's very bare and empty and always clean.
I set my bag down on my bed and kicked off my shoes under it. I thought about laying down for a moment but knew that if I did then I'd fall asleep and dad would get mad and I would get beaten, I really wasn't in the mood to get beaten today, not with losing my friend for the summer.
I sighed and opened my door again. Slowly I went out to the kitchen and grabbed a new rag from under the sink. Keeping an ear out for my dad I wet the rag and put some soap on it. I quickly did the dishes, washing and rinsing them. Then I dried them and put them away.
I grabbed the broom and swept the diningroom, avoiding my dads eyes. I mopped it quickly but thoroughly, then moved onto the kitchen. I scrubbed the bathroom down for an hour, sweeping and mopping it twice. Then I went back to the kitchen.
For dinner I had to think of something quick and easy but hot and homemade. Glancing at the clock I saw that it was almost two-o-clock. I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my index finger and my thumb, trying to relax my eyes. Three hours was plenty of time to make dinner.
I grabbed frozen hamburger out of the freezer. One good thing about my dad was that even though he was cruel and never cooked a day in his life, he kept the fridge and freezer stocked with food or all kinds. I tossed the meat in a large frying pan and turned the eye on high. Using a spatula I stirred the meat.
Once it was browned I put it in a medium-sized dish. I pulled out some mixed veggies from the freezer and layered them on top of the meat. I peeled potatoes and mashed them in a mixer-bowl, then poured it evenly on the mixture in the dish. Sprinkleing some shredded cheddar cheese on it I stuck it in the oven on broil 350 degrees.
Once the Shepards Pie was in the oven I went back to my room. My dad hadn't said anything to me while I was doing my chores, so that meant either he was simply too tired to deal with me(not likely) or he was planning about how to get me today.
My dad had a simple plan, and I quickly learned the tricks to his games. During school he wasn't so bad, he was managable and easy going in his 'punishments' but when the summer came, well, it's all I can do to not be killed. During the school year he's careful to not do anything too dangerous, anything that could cause him troubles with the police. But during the summer vacation he was less careful, he didn't need to worry about nosey little teachers seeing bruises and reporting it. My dad doesn't let me go out much during the summer, he tells the neighbors that I'm too sensitive about the sunlight and that it's so strong during the summer it becomes dangerous for me to be outside.
Summers, I've learned, are when I get burned, both figuratively and literally. My dad burns me using the stove, ciggarettes, candles, and even acid, not to mention I keep getting screwed over by the state and my dad at the same time when it comes to my protection. I've only ever enjoyed a summer once, when my mother was alive, but I was too small to remember it very clearly.
My brother doesn't come to visit anymore because of my dad, or so he says that's the reason. It's not like I expect him to come anyways, he's got his fiance and everything. And when he moved out he made my dad swear that he'd stop hitting on me and locking me up and stuff. My dad swore, but as soon as Michael left the beatings didn't stop, they got worse. There was nobody to stand in his way then, nobody to sneak me food or let me out of a locked room. Michael used to visit me every two to three months or so, and every time I had to lie and say I was fine, the bruises were caused by sports, dad hasn't hit me since. After a year and a half Michael figured if dad had stopped then he didn't need to visit all the time, and so ended the visits from my only protector.
I looked around my room and grabbed my bookbag. I took it over to my closet and set inside the 'School Box' I had. Every year I shoved more and move papers inside the box inside my closet. I prayed for a dry season this coming fall, my window leaked really badly and it tended to ruin everything. All of my papers from elementary and middle school were destroyed, all except my awards I had recieved and kept tucked away in my dresser. Every marking period in elementary school I would awards and bring them home to my dad, seeking his approval above all else. He'd look at it and scoff at me. Once he even ripped a 'Perfect Attendence' award up into pieces. That was before I started getting locked in rooms, it was also the last year that 'Perfect Attendence' or any other award came home. My dad had told me that I was disgracing him and his family. After that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't really focus on my work. Teachers told me I was an over-achiever, and to normal people I was, but to me I was slacking off. What they saw wasn't half of my potential, but they didn't know that. There's alot they didn't and still don't know.
"Marcus Duke Bentley!" my dad bellowed. "Get your ass in here right now!" I flinched before closing my closet door and running out to the dinningroom.
"Yes sir?" I asked, my head tilted towards his feet. I didn't look up towards his face, at his shoulders, yet because he didn't tell me to. My dad taught me his form of respect, when someone calls you you must watch their feet. When they next direct a statement your way, you look at their shoulders. Finally, after a third direct statement to you, you look them in the eye, but not defiantly, more like a scared little puppy, otherwise you'll be hit. When I say 'you'll' I mean me, only me.
"Your friend, Cheese, what are his summer plans?" my dad inquired. For a moment I was confused but I quickly picked up on his true question.
"He's in South Carolina for the summer, sir." I tell him.
"And that girl, Kerry or whatever?" he says next. I breathed in a slow shuddered breath.
"She's away, with her church, for the summer...Sir." I reply, shutting my eyes tight. I knew I was lying to him about Kerry, but I didn't want him to get upset at me about it. He enjoys my not having friends here during the summer, he can do more then.
"Good, that's good." my dad nodded his head as he lit a ciggarette and took a puff. He placed the ciggarette on the ash tray and I tensed my body. "Go finish dinner, I'm hungry and it's getting late." My dad sat down at the computer.
I knew speaking was wrong to do at this time, but I had no other choice. "Dinner won't be ready for another hour and a half sir, it's only half past two."
My dad stood up and back handed me across my mouth, the inside of my cheek began to bleed. "Really now? Ah, so it is. Well then go to your room until you're ready to come out and finish my dinner." he said, dismissing me. I quickly scurried off to my room, sucking the blood from my cheek as I went.
Back in my room I turned on my radio. Hopefully my dad was done for now, but I was ready for if he wasn't. My door was closed and the knob squeaked whenever it was twisted. I knew that if and when I heard that squeak I had to stand up, sitting was considered disrespectful to him, and I automatically tense my body.
I considered how my life wasn't too bad. I had once read a story about a kid who's mother was a real witch, and he didn't get away until he was close to twelve. But his mother treated him way worse than my dad treats me, compared to her my dad's an angel. The boys mother wouldn't even let him go when he was put in foster care, she tried to get everyone to believe he was crazy, she wanted him locked up in a mental hospital for the rest of his life. But the boy turned out okay, he's got his own kid now and is doing great. He told his story and met all the right people at all the right times, now he's very successful. I pondered if that could happen to me. It happened for him, getting out and becoming someone, and he had it worse than me. I typically fantasized about things like that, getting out, busting my dad for what he is, moving on to be someone important to society.
I sat on my bed for just over an hour when I smelled the Shepards Pie, it smelled delicious. I stood up and turned my radio off, then went out to the kitchen. I kept my head down as I pulled out two plates, hoping to eat. I pulled the Pie out of the oven using worn-out oven mittens that had holes in them. Gently placing the Pie on the table on an oven mitten I got my dad some hot tea and placed it precisely at his seat. Head down, I told him the food was ready.
He heaved out of the seat at computer and moved over to the table. He didn't comment on the second plate, instead he plopped into a seat. I scooped out two huge scoops of the Pie onto his plate. He grunted as he picked up his fork.
"How much am I allowed today, sir?" I begged after a minute. My dad looked at me for a quick moment, then laughed.
"You get one handful, if you drop any out of your hand then you won't eat." he laughed again. I carefully scooped up some Pie in my hand, not dropping a single bit. Before I was able to place it on my plate dad shoved the table into my thighs, making me drop half my handful. "I guess you weren't that hungry were you?" he laughed loudly as I hung my head low, I sould've known, I should've expected that from him. "Clean up this mess, now. And bring the trash can in here first, you're not sneaking any food away tonight."
I grabbed the trash can and took it to the table. I carefully wiped the table clean of any food. Dad supervised as I wrapped the Pie dish in clear wrap. Once the food was put away I had to sit down across from him as he finish eating his large helping of food. I had to sit there as he got dressed to go out, and I had to wait for him to allow me up. A few minutes before six he slipped on his brand new white and red sneakers. I took in a slow deliberate breath, wishing he'd forget about me and just leave. But I don't have that luck.
Dad wrapped his hand around my upper left arm and squeezed it as he lifted me out of the chair. He threw me into my room, me tripping over the corner of my bed. I fell onto the floor and tried to stand up quickly, but I didn't do it fast enough. I didn't see his foot coming but I felt the blow as it collided with the left side of my ribs. I exhaled loudly, not willing to cry out, not willing to give him the pleasure of seeing me cry. Clutching my side I gasped, I was hoping he'd forget today, but that was a pipe dream, summer's officially started, there's no way he'd forget now.
Dad grabbed my shirt collar and lifted me in the air. He glared at me, then glanced at the clock and growled. "Damnit boy, now I'm late! You fucking made me late you bastard!" he spit in my face before throwing me at the wall beside my bed. I felt my head bounce off the wall, and I thrust my hands out to soften to blow as my body slammed onto the floor. Silver dots danced around my vision, blurring my view of dad. My vision cleared just in time for my dad to kick me square in the face. I remember thinking Oh shit, he's not in a good mood. This is gonna be one long summer break, before I passed out.