Page 12 of Fight for Me

Mom bends her neck to look through the doorway into the living room. Then she whispers, “Your father is in a weird mood today. He came in, didn’t say a word, just sat down and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He’s been sitting like that for an hour, casting suspicious looks my way every so often. I can’t remember if I did something wrong in the morning.” She rakes her hand nervously through her hair.

Okay, that is unusual for him to be quiet, but I suppose it's better than him wiping the floor with my mother's face or screaming insults at us.

I shrug and then whisper, “What about dinner?”

My mother bites her lip and then walks quietly toward the fridge and takes out a wrapped-up plate for me. “I thought it’ll be better if you go eat in your room. I don’t know what all of this means.”

I nod my head in a thank you, and then slowly walk away from the kitchen before going to my room, closing the door silently behind me.

Maybe today will be one of the days without violence, I think to myself as I eat the cold dinner on my bed.I can only hope.

It’s almost time to get to sleep when I hear a loud shriek and glass breaking somewhere in my house. I jump up from the bed and consider my next move. Normally, I would just turn off the lights and pretend that I’m not here, or jump out the window and go to see Claire. But after the talk with Brody last week and my father acting strangely today, something keeps me rooted in place.

I’m standing in the middle of my room, barely breathing, listening to the terrifying sounds.

When the fight gets closer to my bedroom, I can make out my father’s words and the sounds of a fist punching a body. My mother’s yelps resonate with each hit.

“Tell me the truth, you fucking whore! You’ve probably been spreading legs for everyone with a dick back at the base. I fucking knew it!”

“No, David, I swear. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She whines brokenly before another hit sounds through the house.

“You fucking bitch! I fucking hate you! You’re pathetic!” I hear a loud thump and then my mother begging for him to stop.

“You’re a disgusting whore! I had a feeling that little slut in there wasn’t even mine!”

“No! David! I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” My mom starts sobbing.

“You disgust me,” he says coldly before something slams hard into my door, making me jump, my mother’s cries dying down immediately.

I cover my mouth to hold my frightened squeak when I hear steps and see my door handle moving. I whirl around and run to the window, trying to escape, but my body is pushed to the wall before bouncing back right into my father’s sweaty palms.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks mockingly before throwing me on the bed. I try to get up, but he jumps on me, crashing my chest with his knee.

I struggle to get him off, but he’s too heavy. He punches me hard in the side of the head and I immediately see stars. My body loses its fight for a second, and my father uses this moment to squeeze my neck.

I begin to choke as he spews in my face, the strong smell of whiskey in his breath making my eyes sting as I try to draw some air into my lungs. “You fucking slut! You’re just like your mother. I never saw the resemblance, and now I know why. You’re not even fucking mine!”

I’m on the verge of blacking out when he lets go of my throat and begins to unclasp his belt.

“I will fucking show you! Heard rumors about you giving it up to everyone. Now, after all these years, I can finally make some use of you.” My father slurs and continues to unbutton his jeans, and then proceeds to reach into my pajama bottoms. He shoves his fingers roughly right into my panties.

If the pain wasn’t so severe, I would’ve sworn it wasn’t real. It can’t be happening. My father is about to rape me right in my bed.

I begin to struggle with renewed energy, hitting my father with an elbow to the head and making him howl in anger. He punches me in the side of the head again, making my skin split over my eye. I try to throw him off me again, but I feel powerless and weak as he pulls my shirt up and roughly grabs my breast, making me cry out in pain.

I can feel his arousal through his pants where he’s pressed to me, and I almost vomit in my mouth as he licks the uninjured side of my face. Turning my head away in disgust, I catch the sight of the bedside lamp. Using to my advantage the fact that my father lowered his head to explore my body, I swiftly reach for the lamp, and without hesitation slam it into his head with all of my might.

For a moment, I don’t move, worried I didn’t hit him hard enough, and knowing he’ll kill me now, but then his body turns limp on top of me with blood oozing out of the back of his head. Clumsily, I crawl from under him and land on the floor like a sack of potatoes.

I lift myself slowly, my whole body is trembling. I chance a peek at the unconscious form and when I see his back moving with small breaths, I realize I don’t have much time before he wakes up. Holding up to the wall, I walk to the door and find my mother passed out on the floor in the hallway. I kneel next to her and slap her lightly on the cheek as I whisper, “Mom, please wake up. We have to go.”

I almost start hyperventilating when she doesn’t open her eyes right away, but then she stirs and blinks rapidly before focusing her bloodshot eyes on me.

“Jenny. What happened?”

I help her sit up. “Mom, we have to go! Dad said... H-he tried...to rape me. We need to run!” I cry and my mom frowns.

“Oh no, baby. Where is he?” She looks around as if afraid my father will jump on her from some corner.

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