Page 11 of Right in Front of You

MOLLY, AGE 16

I pushedmy dresser against my bedroom door, blocking it, which drove Father insanely mad.

“Come on, Mols, open up. It’s your last night at home, and I can’t let you go without saying goodbye.”

I didn’t understand what he was doing back home. My mother was out, doing some last minute shopping for Nathan, as my three-year-old brother seemed to have outgrown his pants again. She should have been back already, but I knew that she wasn’t. If she were, she’d never have let Father into this house while I was here. While we never spoke about the way Father treated me, I knew that my mother wanted to protect me. With his violent streak, it wasn’t an easy task.

“Go away!”

“Come on, is that a way to talk to your daddy?” he asked.

I wanted to tell him to fuck off. I wanted to scream that I wished he weren’t my father and that I never wanted to see him again, but that would have infuriated him, and he’d only get more pumped up. Father wouldn’t give up until the door separating us was gone.

“Does Mom know you’re here?”

“Ah, come on, baby, it’s just a friendly visit.”

Friendly my ass. He knew that he was forbidden to come here, though my mother’s threats didn’t seem to be working as well as I had hoped. If I never had to see him again, I’d choose the option with my eyes closed. Hell, I’d sell my soul to the devil if he’d grant me that wish. Better yet, I wished my mother would finally leave him. I didn’t understand why she hadn’t already.

“I’m not letting you in.” I double-checked that the dresser had secured the door permanently, and turned up the volume on my radio. I wasn’t supposed to leave for our high school camping trip until tomorrow, but knowing that Father would eventually find a way to crash into my bedroom, the way he had in the past in the middle of the night, there was no way that I was going to wait another twenty-four hours in this house. I grabbed my bag full of clothes that I’d packed this week and threw it out the window, and then I climbed down myself. Father was too clumsy and too fat to get up to the second floor, so at least I had an escape route. Pressing my back flat against the wall of the house, I stepped sideways to the right, where the path toward the forest was shorter. I reached the corner and flexed my legs, prepping them for a sprint, but a hand grabbed the back of my head.

He yanked me by my hair. My scalp burned from his tight grip, and I forced my elbow back, right into his ribcage. He grunted in pain as I screamed, “Let me go!”

“You didn’t think you’d leave without a proper goodbye, did you?”

I managed to free myself, but when I tried to leave, he caught me by my hips and, using all his weight, pulled me down to the grass. I grasped at the lawn, desperate to free myself, until sod filled my fingernails. It didn’t help. I twisted my body, flipping on my back. Father was about to straddle me. My defense mechanism surged, and I kneed him in his crotch, and then punched him in his face. As he fell to the side, yelping in pain, I used the opportunity to get up and run away. And I ran until my legs hurt and lungs couldn’t handle an extra breath.

Fifteen minutes later, with the bag over my shoulder, I settled into a sweaty pace of quick steps through the shrubs and bushes. As soon as I slowed down, the crunching of branches echoed from behind me. He wasn’t giving up and I was afraid that he never would. Hunching over, I snuck behind one of the thicker trees and climbed down a small escarpment. There was a rock overhang above me, and a few dozen feet lower, the gentle waves of Pebble Lake folded in at the shore. I remembered this path from when Carter and I had tried to make it home by my curfew, and I prayed that father had no idea about this trail. I hopped into the concave escarpment, hoping it would hide me, and waited.

When the steps approached quicker than I had expected, I realized how close I’d come to getting caught. I pressed my back against the wall of soil and rock as Father stood at the ledge above me. His heavy breath filled the air, and his anger vibrated between the trees. Below, the tip of his bald head was reflected in the water. I didn’t move. It had been a long year of healing since he’d last touched me that way; three hundred and seventy-one days, to be exact. Nights of hiding, lying, too many close calls to count and too many questions from my mother I didn’t want to answer. Then there were those nights when I hadn’t been successful, when he’d snuck into the house and his hand clasped over my mouth. I’d closed my eyes and pretended that it was only a nightmare. I didn’t count those days. I didn’t want to remember them. But I wouldn’t give up now. I had to remain safe because I had a nagging feeling that one day he’d catch me, lock me up, and never let me go. That day was coming; I knew it.

The minutes he stood there felt like hours. The entire time, crouched in a fetal position, I held my breath as Father lurked above me. I wasn’t sure how long it took until he left, but it must have been at least an hour later that I found the courage to move. I stretched the cramp in my legs and walked along the lake’s shore, slowly making my way around to town the long way.

Near the beach that would take me to the town’s main road, I heard voices and crouched again to the forest floor. Carter and Daisy were sitting on the rocks at the shore, talking. I couldn’t hear them, and didn’t really want to eavesdrop, but just as I was about to leave, they started kissing. And it wasn’t just French kissing. It was a deep and penetrating kiss that you would have been afraid to display in front of anyone.

My cheeks heated.

Great timing!

I wanted to leave and give them privacy, but when Daisy leaned back onto the pebbles and Carter towered over her, I felt stuck. He’d see me if I moved, and so I stayed in my spot with my mouth opened wide as I watched their make-out session unfold about fifty feet away. Carter kissed her deeply, his mouth swallowing her lips. He reached down with his hand and traced the dip in her waistline before lowering it to her thigh. Daisy was wearing a dress today; one that was being slowly scrunched by Carter’s fingers as he aimed to gain access to her panties, and I had to look away.

My breaths were shallow, and my knees felt week. Taking a greater chance at running into Father, I backed up slowly and walked along the edge of the forest, trying not to make any noise. In the back of my mind, I prayed that Father had given up his search. As I got further away from the beach, I’d look in between the tall grasses, and yes, they would still be at it. I bet they’d still be there when night fell.

Secretly, I’d wished for their kind of romance many times, but that was only a wish. I knew that I could never be intimate with a man. No man had ever wanted a broken woman, and I was much more than broken — my body and heart felt like they’d been shattered into millions of pieces. In fact, I was certain that some pieces were missing and would never be found.

I was happy for Carter and Daisy, really. All I’d ever wanted was for my best friend to have joy in his life; but somehow I pictured he’d share that happiness with me. It was a naïve wish, nourished by the time we’d spent together as kids.

“I am not afraid to be alone,” I whispered under my breath, pulling the long sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my arms to cover my wrists, and continued my walk until I reached the town’s main road. I looked behind me one last time. Father was nowhere in sight, which was a good sign; but being here, in the middle of town, also meant that I was nowhere and had another twenty-four hours to go before the bus for our camping trip would arrive to pick up the students. I couldn’t go back to the house and didn’t want to. I contemplated sleeping in one of the few abandoned barns in town, but that was a risk as well. Father would probably search every possible nook and hole in order to find me.

Maybe I could try the motel?

I’d put money away by babysitting and working at Mrs. Gladstone’s farm, helping her with the cows, but all that money was stashed underneath the third wooden board in the floor of my room. Besides, it was for future college tuition, and there was no way I would go back to that house to get it now.

When I saw Doctor Burke’s office, I smiled and headed toward the open door. If there was one place in town where Father would definitely not look for me, it was at the clinic. The waiting room was empty so I rang the small bell at the front desk. Doctor Burke didn’t have a secretary. He came out from one of the back rooms and immediately smiled when he saw me.

“Hey, Molly. How are you? I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”

My gaze flew to the back, where I heard some shuffling.

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