Page 12 of I See Red

“Oh, you want to talk about Jessica? Fine, let’s talk about her. She got what she deserved. She came up to me when I was minding my own business and slapped my drink and food out of my hand, queuing tomethat she wanted it, so I thought I’d helpand smashed it across her face. You know, trying to give her a taste.”

“It’s lunch, Ivy, not a justification to beat her with it. Her family could have pressed charges, and the trophy cases?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Dad. It wasn’t about the food; it was the principle, and she obviously wanted a fight, so she got one, more than she bargained for judging by her face. The trophy cases were just innocent bystanders, again, not my fault. I find it ironic that you literally put me in martial arts, you literally smoked me when I lost a fight, so I win one by record status, and you punish me. The fucking irony in your old ass is astounding.”Anger builds, and I can’t hold it in.

“And pressing charges? Do you really want to go there? With the demons you hide? I may have to suffer at the hands of your demons, forced to never fight back but don’t ever fucking ask me to take disrespect from someone else. I have taken six lifetimes of it from you already. I’ll be damned if I ever allow someone to step to me sideways ever.”

Youfuck me like your wife, then expect me to follow the rules of a child, which is it, Dad? Who am I? Oh, you think the medicine makes me forget? We both know why I’m going back to yet another hell hole, and it’s not about Jessica. Far the fuck from it.

I cross my arms, huffing and puffing. Suddenly, I remember Tayden’s birthday party, and I know no matter how upset I am, I must bite my tongue and figure a way out of this.

“You better watch your mouth,little girl,” he snaps.

I swear if any human on this earth ever calls me little girl once I’m free of him, it will be the last thing they ever fucking say before I cut their goddamn tongue out.

Think, think, think. Okay, so apologize, show remorse, accept responsibility, and tell him whatever he wants to hear. You cannot miss Tayden’s party.

“Okay, Dad, listen. I am so sorry, truly, you are right. I shouldn’t have handled myself that way. I will go to school and apologize. I’ll do extra chores around the house. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t send me away again. I can’t take another place. I will do better. I promise. I beg of you to give me another chance; I don’t belong in those places.” I plead with him, placing my hand on his no matter how much these words and his touch disgusts me to my core. I can’t miss Tayden’s birthday; he will be so heartbroken.I’ll be heartbroken.

“Ivy, I can’t. I’ve already called ahead, and I was lucky to get you a spot. It took a lot to make this happen. I have a good feeling about this place. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

Yeah, happy and healthy, yet you’re the reason I am not.

“I go in tomorrow?” I ask, fearful of his response.

“No, Monday, but you’re grounded until you go. I can’t risk you trying to run off again; plus, I want to spend time together before you leave, and I’m having a party Saturday.”

“Okay, Monday, great, but Dad, I need you to do me a favor, please. I beg of you. Tayden’s birthday party is this Sunday, and I can’t miss it. Please let me go, and I promise I will go without a fight this time, nor will I run off, and I will behave at the party. Please, if you love me at all, you will let me go,” I plead.

The silence is killing me, my mind conjuring up more barters I can devise when suddenly my father surprises me. “I will let you go, only because I know how much he means to you, but I will drop you off and pick you up, and do not say a word to anyone, or I will keep you there longer. Understand me,little girl?” His voice stern and fearless.

“Yes sir,” is all I can respond before we both fall silent, nothing but the sound of the tires on the road as we approach the gated entrance of our community. A tear falls from my eye as my hands fidget with each other, the sweat cascading like NiagaraFalls, and all I want to do is crawl in my bed and hide forever, in Tayden’s words, his letters, because although I got Sunday, I want no part of Saturday.

I roll out of my covers, peeking out the window next to my bed. I’m exhausted and sore thinking about a life outside these walls, frozen, stilled in my thoughts. My head is foggy, I’m in pain, and my soul a little more chiseled away. I sense the tears running down my face. I’ve been awoken by another bad dream. A reminder of what’s to come, come Monday. How I even had time to dream with the little sleep I got is beyond me, but welcome to my brain. Night terrors have consumed me for as long as I can remember. Sometimes, I wish I dreamed of fairies and hobbits. That my dreams were the one place I could escape all that is my life, but it never happens. Most nights, I’m stuck reliving the same dream I dreamt the night before or six years before, a reel of terror on repeat. Wiping the tears from my face, I stretch my arms, a smile coming to fruition on my face, the horrors of the last forty-eight hours whisked away because I remember it’s Sunday, which means I get to go to Tayden’s birthday party. Forcing a shift in my mood, I race to my walk-in closet, set on finding the most perfect outfit and swimsuit for today. I would have done it sooner, but my father and I haven’t been on speaking terms this weekend, per se, like usual, before I prepare to leave each time. I know it’s his guilt, and I refuse to give him the resolve he seeks by me ok-ing his choices because they aren’t okay, they never will be, but my opinion doesn’t matter as I am a child with no legal regard to my own body, my own mind, or myown care. I can’t help but believe that won’t be the case one day. I’m just not sure it’s a destination I will ever reach, and if I do, what will be left of me then?

Brushing away my thoughts, pulling my shirt down over me, I close my bedroom door, heading down the spiral staircase, my hand brushing against the red oak-stained banister, making my way to the foyer of our home. I used to find this place beautiful; it was once a hope of a happier future when we bought it. It was my favorite place to play Clue. I do love a good mystery, and I’m always Colonel Mustard. Over time, it’s become the gates to my hell when I’m not in the other prisons of complete solitude when I return. Turning round the banister as I reach the last step, I draw in a deep breath attempting to calm my nerves. I’m unsure what version of my father I will converse with this morning, as I never really am; mostly, I’m fearful he changed his mind.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, joining him in the kitchen, allowing him the courtesy of knowing I’m downstairs. His back is turned to me, his broad shoulders resting in a crew-cut sweatshirt and athletic shorts as usual for a Sunday. He stands 5’11”, tall like a baseball player yet built like a linebacker, his brown and silver hair ungelded, telling me he has just awoken recently if he even slept at all after. Does he ever sleep after? Standing over the counter, he pours himself a cup of black coffee straight up. Turning around, his eyes tired and broken, I struggle to look at him, fearful that all the hate I have for him will spill over. When I see how broken he is, I can’t help but love him, feel for him, and want to hold him. I know this is just my abuser bond, but I try to think I’m just a girl who loves her father regardless of what he does to me—to us. I must be the bigger person, better than him, always kinder to him than he has been to me. I like to convince myself we are just two lost humans trying to survive, but that explanation wears thin when you evaluate the reality; one a child, one a whole ass adult, and I only suffer with himbecause of him. My mother isn’t off scot-free. She’s the reason I’m even in this fucking boat.

Fuck, why can’t I have a normal family?

“Good morning, Ivy,”he says to me apprehensively, leaving words left unspoken.

“Tayden’s mom should be here soon. Thanks again for letting her pick me up instead of driving me,” I exclaim, worried his mind may have changed, baiting him for reassurance.

“Yeah, Ivy, just don’t forget we have an agreement,” he mutters lifting his world’s best dad coffee mug to his lips, slurping a sip, trying not to burn his lips.

Fuck, I hate him, all of him. I hope you fucking choke.

My eyes shift away from his gaze, a lump fully forms in my throat from the weight of his words. I fight the dryness in my mouth, over-eager tears stinging the back of my eyes.I’m so fucking relieved to be out of here for a few hours.

“Yeah, Dad, I know—” The doorbell chimes, cutting me mid-sentence. I jet to it, excited to spend my last day of freedom with the boy I love, who has never, and could never, let me down or harm me—the boy with whom I matter.

“Hello, Mrs. Bergess,” I say, opening the door. Her beauty is intimidating. I look around, not seeing Tayden. She acknowledges my concerns.

“He’s in the car.” I turn to give my father a hug before I exit, rushing to buckle in next to him. I hate hugging him, but rule number one: keep up with appearances, smile pose, smile pose. Followed by rule number two: nobody must ever know. Maybe I’ll grow up to be an actor or possibly work in the government as a spy. Lord knows I’m already dead inside. Break me bitches, I dare you. Oh, kill some random? Say less. God, I’m fucked.

Liliana and my father talk for a while, and although I know their conversation is more than likely about me, I have no concern in the matter. As soon as the cold surrounds my bodyand Tayden’s arms are around me, I’m safe—at least for the next few hours, anyway.The car begins backing out, igniting a chill up my spine. The feeling of relief and safety the car pulling out brings is refreshing. I can breathe.

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