Revelations
Then
"Dad's been drinking again."
Kayla's fingers found mine in the dark of our bedroom. She was shaking as she touched my hand. She curled herself against me.
"Does Mom know?" I asked gently.
"She pretends it's not happening. Nina, I can't stand this."
What she meant was, I can't stand when he hits me.
I pulled her closer to me when there is a pounding on the door, and our father is screaming for us to come out.
Kayla shouted at him to stop.
That's when the door burst open, the wood splintered.
In the blackness, he looked like a monster, his shadow advancing toward us.
"Don't talk to me like that, you little bitch," he snarled.
When he grabbed Kayla, she screamed. He dragged her away from me and out of the room. I ran from the bed and down the hall.
A crashing sound met my ears and I winced as I rounded the corner to the kitchen. Kayla was on the floor, her nose bleeding. Bruises blossomed along her left arm. She looked at me, her face screwed up in pain.
Dad stepped toward her again, while I grabbed a knife from the block on the counter. With all the noise, he hadn't heard me.
"You made a mess!" he shouted. "I told you to clean up after yourself, didn't I? Can't you do anything right?"
"Don't fucking touch her!" I screamed.
Dad whirled around, his face red.
I held up the knife, my hand trembling.
But I'd had enough.
"Nina. What are you doing, baby?" Dad whispered. "Put that knife down, you're going to hurt yourself."
"Leave her alone." I said.
He moved away from her. Towards me. I backed up.
"This has to end," I told him. "You need to get help."
And he did. It just didn't last.
The next time he drank, everything changed.
Kayla's fingers found mine in the dark of our bedroom. She was shaking as she touched my hand. She curled herself against me.
"Does Mom know?" I asked gently.
"She pretends it's not happening. Nina, I can't stand this."
What she meant was, I can't stand when he hits me.
I pulled her closer to me when there is a pounding on the door, and our father is screaming for us to come out.
Kayla shouted at him to stop.
That's when the door burst open, the wood splintered.
In the blackness, he looked like a monster, his shadow advancing toward us.
"Don't talk to me like that, you little bitch," he snarled.
When he grabbed Kayla, she screamed. He dragged her away from me and out of the room. I ran from the bed and down the hall.
A crashing sound met my ears and I winced as I rounded the corner to the kitchen. Kayla was on the floor, her nose bleeding. Bruises blossomed along her left arm. She looked at me, her face screwed up in pain.
Dad stepped toward her again, while I grabbed a knife from the block on the counter. With all the noise, he hadn't heard me.
"You made a mess!" he shouted. "I told you to clean up after yourself, didn't I? Can't you do anything right?"
"Don't fucking touch her!" I screamed.
Dad whirled around, his face red.
I held up the knife, my hand trembling.
But I'd had enough.
"Nina. What are you doing, baby?" Dad whispered. "Put that knife down, you're going to hurt yourself."
"Leave her alone." I said.
He moved away from her. Towards me. I backed up.
"This has to end," I told him. "You need to get help."
And he did. It just didn't last.
The next time he drank, everything changed.