Page 117 of Collided

It’s Saturday morning, and I dread it already. Usually, I spend the day at the library with the excuse of studying to avoid my parents, but Mom insists that I stay home today.

As I enter the kitchen I find my parents kissing with pancakes getting burned over the stove.

Ignoring their smooching noises, I turn off the stove and get rid of the burnt pancakes.

“Oh shit.” Mom steps back with flushed cheeks.

“It’s only pancakes. We’ll make more.” Dad assures her by rubbing her back.

He looks at me. “Hope, why don’t you make them?” The harsh look in his brown eyes makes me agree.

“Okay.”

Mom steps in. “Oh, you don’t have to, honey. It’s all right I’ll make—”

“Let her do some work. You come with me.” With a smile, he steers her toward the living room, and she lets him.

I watch the scene with sheer confusion. It’s like I’m trapped in a dream that feels real. I’m perplexed by how easily Mom is letting Dad in. He’s touching her, kissing her, and ordering me around, but she’s too beguiled with his charms. It’s almost like he’s cast a spell on her when he isn’t even a wizard… or maybe he is.No! He’s definitely not.

While making the batter I catch glimpses of them. Mom looks happy. And Dad, he looks at her acertainway. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but there’s something that doesn’t feel right.

He walks in through the doors and Mom just takes him. How is it possible?

What did he even say to her? Did he apologize for the way he’s treated her for years—and how he almost killed her that night? Has he told her how he’s drinking and abusing me? He’s leaving marks on my body and he’s an entirely different person. I don’t recognize him anymore. There’s nothing familiar about him, so what does Mom see in him?

Now his eyes are laced with layers of drunkenness, slightly yellow teeth, and his physique is lean. He’s lost weight and it’s so obvious he’s sick. I don’t hear Mom complaining or noticing.

All the times he’s been drunk, Mom hasn’t been home. It’s always been me. He must spend the night like that and get sober by the time she comes home. With touches and kisses, he hypnotizes her in whatever webs he’s been weaving.

I feel sick and confused.

I don’t know what is real or not.

After I serve them breakfast, I return to my room with the excuse that I have a test on Monday when all I want is to leave the house.

It’s sometime in the afternoon when Mom comes up to my room with a stern face. “We need to talk.”

I quickly close my biology textbook. “What is it?”

She sits on my bed and stares at me with worry. “What is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Between your dad and you.”

I look away. “Nothing.”

She sighs. “I see you tiptoeing around your father. You avoid talking to him and you barely stay in the same room as him formore than five minutes. What’s the matter? Aren’t youhappyhe’s back?”

I lift my head with a frown.

Happy?Why would I be happy that he’s back?

Has she really forgotten the years of abuse he put her through? And all the other stuff?

“I’m not,” I say.

Mom frowns in disbelief. “Why not?”

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