Page 110 of Voices

She gives me a look like I’m crazy before ignoring me and continuing to eat. Looking over at Benji’s plate, I see that he hasn’t touched his mashed potatoes and somehow has two rolls.

I nudge his elbow with mine to get his attention. “Are you going to eat both rolls? Or your mashed potatoes?”

He picks up one roll and takes a massive bite out of it. “Sorry, I love these things,” he mumbles around a mouth full of bread.

My heart sinks as I point to his mashed potatoes. “I gave you my lamb chop. Can I have half your potatoes?” A desperate plea evident in my voice.

Benji licks the back of his fork before running it across his potatoes.

“I don’t care about a little bit of your spit. Please, Benji.”

He picks up the lamb chop that’s dripping red juice all over his plate, and I watch in shock as he sets it on top of the mashed potatoes knowing I won’t eat it now.

I stare at his plate as I hear the others snickering around me.

Why did he do that?

What did I ever do to him to make him hate me so much?

The back of my eyes start to sting as I stand up and make my way to the bathroom. I slam and lock the door before sliding down to the floor. I hug my knees to my chest as the first tears fall. I thought my father would be the one to cause this reaction in me, not my brother.

I grip my knees tighter as I bang my head back against the door.

So. Fucking. Stupid!

I don’t belong here.

I’ll never be one of them.

I wish Shane was here.

“Get out of there Charles!” My father’s voice booms through the door.

I scurry to my feet as I hear a key sliding into the lock. I step back as my red-faced father comes through the door and charges at me. He grabs me around the throat and pins me to the wall.

“Why must you always cause a scene? Hm? It’s bad enough that AshleyandKatie have brought it to my attention the way you keep looking at Grayson. And now you want to storm out of dinner when everyone is trying to enjoy their Thanksgiving meal? Your little fit had eyes judging me. Making me look like I can’t control my children.”

I try to pull his hand from my throat, but he swats my hand away and squeezes harder.

“I think it’s time for me to take back control of you.” His face is inches from mine, showing me the hatred in his eyes.

My body starts to go limp from lack of oxygen. Giving my neck one more squeeze, he lets me go. I collapse into a heap on the floor, coughing and wheezing.

He grabs my hair and yanks my head back at a sharp angle.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back for you.”

He pushes my head forward as he stands up and walks out of the bathroom. I hear the lock before something hard hits the door.

I crawl to the door and try the handle. It won’t move. I pull down on it with all my weight, but it still won’t budge. A whimper leaves my lips as I realize that he propped a chair under the handle.

I curl into a ball and silently cry into the cold tiled floor.

I don’t want to be here.

I hate this.

Why me?