Breaking Free

My father wakes up a short time later.
"You came in too late," he tells me with anger in his voice.
"I had to walk home today, remember?" I ask him.
"No, I don't remember, would you care to explain?" he asks.
"I waited on you for over fifteen minutes to come and get me from school, when you didn't show up, I called the house and you answered," I explain. "You told me that I had to walk."
"Okay, well, don't let it happen again."
Internally I scoff at him, like it's my fault that I had to walk. Maybe I should have taken Blue Eye's offer for the ride home and I might not be being berated right now.
I sigh quietly as I start to peel potatoes for dinner. I'm making steak, corn and mashed potatoes for my father, his favorite meal.
I turn the stove top grill on and let it heat up before I put two t-bone steaks on to cook slowly while I prepare the potatoes. I finish peeling them and rinse them in the sink. After they are cleaned off, I cut them into cubes and drop them in a pot of water already on the stove. I turn the heat up to medium to let them boil.
I pull a bag of corn out of the freezer and put enough for my father and myself in a small pot, adding a little bit of water, sugar, salt and butter.
I turn the heat on low beneath the corn and flip the steaks over. I wait for the water to start to boil for the potatoes and when they've boiled long enough, I pull them off of the heat and start mashing them using the electric mixer. I add salt and butter to the potatoes and put them in a bowl to sit and wait for the steaks to finish cooking.
It isn't long before I have dinner on the table. I grab a fresh beer from the refrigerator and set it on the table in front of my dad's chair.
"Daddy!" I call out. "Dinner is ready."
I wait for him to enter the kitchen and sit down at his place before serving the meal to him and then taking my own seat and serving myself. He taught me that he always gets served before me. I think it's part of him showing dominance over me.
I usually sneak a few bites of what I'm cooking to kind of make myself feel like he doesn't have the utmost control over me. It helps a little.
I'm still reeling over the fact that I went to school without my ugly glasses and a baggy sweatshirt on and that someone actually talked to me. I want to know this boy's name and everything but I definitely don't have enough confidence in myself for that.
Dinner is eaten without a word, my father doesn't like to talk while he eats. He says it takes away from the meal. I've learned to stay quiet. There were times in the past where he took my food away from me because I tried to make conversation. I was left to go hungry the rest of the night.
After dinner, I wait until my father leaves the table before standing up and clearing all of the dishes from the table. I proceed to wash them all and scrub the kitchen down.
There is coal dust on the chair where my father usually sits, he always tracks it into the house and it is next to impossible to get it all cleaned up. There is always something that has black fingerprints on it or dust all over because he doesn't always change out of his clothes when he first comes home.
I really wish he would change his clothes and shower because if you've never cleaned coal dust off of every surface, you've never really cleaned.
After cleaning the kitchen, I move onto the living room, vacuuming and dusting all of the surfaces and throwing the empty beer cans into the recycling can. I finally talked my father into getting one as a way of saving money. As much as he drinks sometimes, we get quite a bit of money back when I turn the cans in.
After I'm done with the living room, I move onto the bathroom and when I finish it I go into my bedroom and start on my homework. Nine o'clock passes and I'm ready for bed but I still have half of a paper to write.
I start yawing while I write and know that if I don't make myself stay awake, I'm never going to finish my paper. I get off of the bed and sit in my too small desk chair so that I'm uncomfortable enough to stay awake.
My paper is on the Roman Empire and I find it rather dull so it's taking a lot for me to stay focused. I find myself doodling on a scrap piece of paper while I think of how to word my sentence.
I hear my door knob start to turn and quickly shove the scrap paper under my notes so my dad doesn't see me actually not doing my homework.
"It's bedtime," he tells me.
"I know, I have to finish my paper though," I tell him, trying not to sound like a smart ass.
"Hurry it up, you've got ten minutes before lights out," my dad says gruffly while giving me a dirty look.
I try not to roll my eyes and turn back to my paper and start writing things down. I know that if I don't finish the paper tonight, I'm going to get a failing grade. I can't accept a failing grade because that wouldn't fly with my father.
I write as much as I can in the ten minutes he gave me, but I still have the last quarter of my paper to finish when he comes in and sends me to bed.
I lay in bed and try to stay awake for an hour so I can finish the paper after my dad goes to bed.
When I hear him start to snore, I'm starting to drift off. I hurry out of the bed and back to the desk and finish my paper in a half an hour before climbing back into bed for the rest of the night.