Down the Barrel

I am immune to almost all emotion. I'm horrible at expressing my feelings. The only way I do express my emotion is through fighting with whoever ticks me off enough. It does't matter who it is. 

I spent a lot of time squirreled away in my room. My room was my safe haven. I didn't have a lot of stuff in there to keep me entertained. Just a couple of books and an old antenna tv that barely got basic cable. 

I kept a lot of weird trinkets in my room. My mom sends me a lot of weird stuff from New Orleans. I even had a couple of voodoo dolls. I didn't practice voodoo or anything but, they were cool. 

I stopped what I was doing when I heard my front door open. My dad was home. He hadn't been home in days. Despite my better instincts I went downstairs to see what he was up too. 

He was drunk again. I knew that much. I kept quiet and tried to sneak back up stairs but, I kicked an empty beer can. I cursed quietly and tried to get to the stairs before he saw me. 

"Where the fuck do you think your going?" He growled when he saw me. I bit down on my tongue to keep the whimper from escaping my mouth. I wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing that he scared me. No one got the pleasure. 

"Just back up to my room, Dad. Do you need anything?" I asked as politely as possible. I always stood up for myself, I'm a fighter but, I could never stand up to him. I don't know why. Maybe because he was my dad. Maybe it was because he was all I had left. 

I was met with a stinging slap across my face. My cheek felt like it was on fire. I could also taste a bit of blood. I let out a whimper. He smacked me again, this time I hit the floor. 

A heavy kick to my rib cage had me choking and sputter for breath. I still didn't cry though. He picked me up by my mop of black hair and set me on my feet. He, then, pulled his fist back and punched me in the eye. 

"Go back to your room you worthless piece of shit." My dad snarled at me. I didn't argue or even look at him as I bolted to my bedroom door. I locked the door and leant against it, gasping for hair. I was sure something was at least fractured. It hurt bad enough. 

I walked to the mirror on my dresser and gently lifted up my shirt to reveal the red fist shaped marks that were slowly turning purple. I definitely had a black eye. I was going to be seriously sore in the morning. 

I frowned and began working on covering up the discolored skin of my eye. I could hear recaps of the Monday night football game coming from down stairs as well as my fathers disgustingly loud belches. I walked quietly to my window. If I reached out far enough I could climb out on to the tree that was right near my window. 

I made sure I had my balance before climbing down the tree and walking across my yard to the end of my street. I shoved hands deeper into my pocket, digging around for loose change. After determining that I had enough money for something to drink, I made my way out of my neighborhood. 

I had a few hours to kill before my dad passed out. It was only four in the afternoon and most shops were busy with teenagers. I walked into a semi-empty deli and ordered a sandwich and drink before taking my food, I left the shop and walked the short distance to the park where I ate in peace. 

I spent a few hours at the park, sitting by myself and watching some little kids play. It was still to early for Dad to have passed out yet, so I spent some more time walking around aimlessly. It was only getting dark when I started heading home. 

The dark frightened me. Well, no, that's not true. Being out at night frightened me. I had to pass by the high school to get home. I saw the plaque and decided to go over and pay my respects to Michelle. 

I kneeled over the plaque. Michelle helped me a lot with my school work. I wouldn't be passing any of my classes without her. She was a really nice person. I missed her. I stayed there a lot longer than I would have liked. I chewed my lip ring lightly. I hadn't really cried over her death. I didn't feel like crying at the moment either. 

I looked up when someone sat down next me. It was William, Michelle's brother. He reeked of pot and he was wearing at hat. Something he usually wore. William had never made me nervous before but, the fact that he was high made it much worse. 

"Hey, Alex." He said. I nodded in acknowledgement and looked away. My dad would have been asleep by then. 

I could hear William take a deep shaky breath and let it out again. He was crying. I didn't know whether or not he was crying but, I was scared to find out. I didn't know how to handle crying people. 

I turned my head and snuck a quick peek to see William wipe his face. I turned away again, feeling awkward. I knew him well enough to say something comforting but, I had no idea what that was supposed to be. 

"Oh, you guys are here too." I looked up to see a blond girl walking up to the plaque.