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Pass on Stories > Father, are you there?---5

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message 1: by [deleted user] (last edited Aug 29, 2010 10:55PM) (new)

Scarlet gripped onto her notebook, dreading going home on the bus. Too noisy. Crumbled paper flew from left to right, left over food seemed to he thrown too. Something didn't feel right about today, but she decided it was nothing. She grabbed her pen and notebook and opened it to page one. "Alright. If the Judge says this will make it easier..."
She started to write.

I don't see how writing about my dad will get any better, though, nothing is actually. Writing about the day mom left will be totally depressing, but we all gotta start some where right?
Scarlet stops writing a moment. "Judge Carter said at least one page..." She thought outloud.
She picked up her pen again, suddenly feeling it was 10 pounds heavier.

June 18
I was eight at the time. Mom was my bestfriend, my hero. She'd be my savior when it came to monsters in the bed, monsters in the closet, or dad, the monster himself. Dad and Mom fought frequently, yelling almost daily. Dad seemed to have a temper. One day, mom took me out to an icecream shop. While in the car, I noticed the trunk was piled high with her things, though at the time, I didn't think it was anything. "Grab anything you like, baby." I remember her stroking my hair. I chose a vanilla with sprinkles. Throughout the day, mom took me out anywhere I pleased. We headed to the beach, skidded through dolls we saw at shop windows. One doll caught my eye. She wore a blue silky dress, with blond hair and green eyes. I pointed at it and smiled. "Mommy, look! It's you!" It did resemble my mom quite well. "Scar, think so?" Mom looked through her purse and grinned. "Scar, wait a sec." Mom went inside for a few minutes and came back with a wrapped up box. "Here, honey for you." She held the box out towards me. I was so exicted, I immedialty tried opening it. I rememer my mom wagging her finger at me, telling me no. "Not now, Scar. Open it when you get home." The sun was about to set and I felt the day coming to a close. Mom tucked me into bed, kissing my forehead. She sat at the edge of my bed, soothing my hair out of my eyes. I struggled to keep my eyes open. "Scar..." Mom's voice cracked. "Im...I'm leaving, sweety." This puzzled me. Mom? Leaving? Didn't seem likely, instead of crying I asked, "Will you be coming back, mama?" Mom shook her head. "I'm not ever coming back. I'm leaving your father...not you." she gripped onto my hand, kissing it. "Just know I'll come back for you. I promise." Her words seemed so promising that I didn't even protest. "Alright, mommy." She kissed my forehead one last time and whispered, "I love you." She walked out the door. I remember hearing the car's engine roar out of the parking lot, sounding like a savage beast. The next morning, I awoke as dad was yelling in my ear. "Where's your mom?!" I mumbled, still trying to fall asleep. There was no light in the window. I looked at the clock. 5:45. "All her stuff is gone, Scarlet. Where. Did. She. Go?" His voice was like pure ice. I felt afriad, though I didn't say anything. Dad grabbed me by my arm and forced me up. He yanked at my hair and slapped my face. "You are worthless, Scar. That's why mama left you." My eyes stung with tears. "You're wrong, dad! Mama said she was coming back... For me." I touched my face, feeling the swell of the slap. "Youre mama don't love you. She ain't never coming back." He left my room. I didn't know what hurt more. My dad's words or his slap.
I looked around the room, noticing I hadn't opened my mom's gift. I silently tore the paper off the box. I let out a soft giggle as I saw what was inside. It was the doll I wanted earlier that day. My mom had gotten it for me. I cradled it in my arms, feeling as if mom didn't leave afterall. I stroked the dolls hair, tears falling down on it's blue dress. The doll was all mom had to offer as a replacement. To this day, I still ask for it's gudience. Though, I never have an answer.


The bus pulls into the crib into my street. Only two houses down and I'll be entering the Monster's House of Horrors. How lovely.
I open the door.


message 2: by John, (~^u^~)V (last edited Aug 29, 2010 11:10PM) (new)

John x (radishfriends) | 867 comments Mod
"Father? Are you there?" I called out.
The house was completely dark and the wood creaked as I stepped forward.

"What do you want, Scar?" He boomed.
The bottle of beer lay half empty in his hand. The television was on but he wasn't watching. He was too, drunk to care.

"I just wanted to let you know i was home" I said. Side stepping to the stairs.

"Does it look like i give a shit?" He asked. "Just get to your room and leave me alone!" He spat as i took off for my room.


Welcome, to the monsters cave, which i call my house.


message 3: by [deleted user] (new)

Scarlet let her bag from school, fall to the floor. She jumped on her bed, streaking the tears off her cheeks. The doll her mother gave her years ago, stood on her book shelf, not a single crum of dust lay on her blue dress. It looked good as new. Scarlet picked it up and stroked it's hair, the way her mother did when dad would yell at her. "A father who doesn't love me? Can't seem real." She whispered to the doll. She lay it back on her bookshelf the way it was before.
A clutter of footsteps walked into Scarlet's room. Of course -- dad. Dad had the bottle to his lips, smiling as he tried to bit the cap open. What was it? Like his fourth beer since I got home?
"Hey, you worthless child--!" Dad took another swig of acohol and smiled. "You have mail." Her dad picked up his armpit, smelling for anything foul. He threw the envelope at Scarlet, hitting it with her cheek. He walked away, muttering, "Yeah, let anyone would message a nobody like her."
Scarlet picked the envelope off the floor. It smelled like a sent very familiar, but didn't think to much of it. She opened it, feeling the paper soothe her hands.
"Probably a useless letter."

To: Scar
Hello, my sweet. I'm keep my promise and I'm coming for you! Don't let your father know I'm coming...he'll never let you come with me. I've missed you soo much, Scar. I'm sorry for missing all those years, but I know I'll be a better mother. The judge contacted me about your dad abusing you...how awful. I'm coming for you this weekend. Be ready.
Love,
Mom


I let the letter fall to the floor, my mouth hung open. I do the only thing can do. I reach over and grab the doll, craddling it against my chest, seeing if she'd remember how it was like to hug her mother. Suddenly, the warmth of her mother over washed her, leaving a smile on her face.
8 years ago, her mother left. Now here she was, sending a letter to her.
"This is new." She said, soothing the dolls hair. She pretended the doll said, "What?" Scarlet smiled. "Hope."


message 4: by [deleted user] (last edited Sep 07, 2010 11:32AM) (new)

Scarlett sat on her bed, she looked wistfully at the doll again. She heard commotion downstairs and figured her dad was downstairs with his poker buddies. They cam almost everyday.
"SCAR!" he yelled, "Bring us a case of beer!" Scarlett was used to this every day. She didn't care now though, she skipped into the living room happily, which was a mistake.


message 5: by Kat (new)

Kat (sugaraddict) | 688 comments Her Dad raised an eyebrow. "Why are you happy?" He asked. "Why are you so happy?"


message 6: by [deleted user] (new)

Scarlet looked at her nails, not answering her father. She hands all the cold beers to his poker buddies, leaving the hot one for her father. He notices this, and throws the can at his daughter, face glowing red. "Damn you! Don't you know the difference from a good beer to a bad?! Go to your room, I don't want to see your disgusting face." That's when he pours the alcohol all over Scarlet. She runs to her bathroom and hides in the bathtub, curling her knees to her stomach.


message 7: by John, (~^u^~)V (new)

John x (radishfriends) | 867 comments Mod
She heard laughs coming from downstairs and then turned on the shower. She didn't bother to take off her clothes, if she left them until they were washed properly, then they would smell like beer forever. She started to think about her mother. About her favorite childhood memory.

Her mother and her sat next to the tree on top of the hill. Her mother looked over to her and said...


message 8: by [deleted user] (new)

"You're wonderful, Scarlet. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably die alone and suffer with your daddy. I would've done crazy things without you. One day, it'll just be you and me. Got that?"

((I'm going to switch to I instead of Scarlet))

Back then, I didn't know what she meant. I just nodded and smiled at her every word. It was a promise she kept all these years ago. I'm waiting desperately for mama to come. I look at the water being splashed to my face, feeling that it soothes me. I hang my legs off the bathtub and put my head against the wall. That's when I fall asleep.
I dream of flying beer and hope.


message 9: by John, (~^u^~)V (new)

John x (radishfriends) | 867 comments Mod
(sorry, didn't mean to switch it to 3rd person.)

I awoke by the hammering of someones fists on the bathroom door. "Get out! I don't want water to be wasted on the likes of you!" My dad screamed.

I've had this said to many times, every time, ignored it, but it still killed my inside.


message 10: by [deleted user] (last edited Sep 12, 2010 06:39PM) (new)

Now, dad was ramming the door down with his shoulders. I lay completely still, not wanting to get out of my tub of wonder. The water was now overflowing, though I didn't have the nerve of turning it off. If I did, the silence would consume me.
Dad broke the door down and he saw the water flowing out of the tub. It just took one splash of water to get on his boots for him to be on me like a rabid dog. His emerald eyes flashed up to my face and he grabbed my head and I was down on the cool, soothing water. I closed my eyes, and tried to breathe, not really knowing what just went on. I heard dad muffling from above, though I had no idea what he was saying.
I didn't know silence had a sound, until I lay there, still and not moving. Once I stopped struggling, dad picked my head up from the water and his eyes widened. He quickly pulled me up on his shoulder and walked me to the my room. He lay me gently on my bed, soaked in minutes. He sat by my side, soothing the damp hair out of my eyes. My doll caught his eye and he put it on the side of me.
And that's when he started to cry. Really cry. He left the room, his cries now turning into slow breaths.
I never thought dad had a second emotion. I always thought he carried one. One filled with anger every time he glanced at me.
I tried breathing, having a funny feeling inside me. It took me awhile, but I got the hang of it again. I loved the way the air rushed into my lungs.


There on my table lay my notebook filled with dire memories that were meant to kept a secret. Tomorrow, I'd have to write again. Seven days a week. As instructed by the judge. Dad got off with a warning as he was put in court for abusing me. "She's only sixteen! She's mad! I'd never hit my child!" I remember saying in my mind, "Yeah. He was too busy choking me." That was just last week. The jury marked him Not Guilty and he didn't suffer the thought of going to jail. Me...on the other hand had to go to Therapy so "My actions" can be revised. No one believed me. No one will. When I got home that evening, dad repeatedly hit me until I saw black. I've gotten so use to it, the black comforts me.

I turn on my side again, feeling a sharp pain where the beer bottle hit. I feel so rejoiced that I could feel the pain.
Pain meant I was alive.


message 11: by John, (~^u^~)V (new)

John x (radishfriends) | 867 comments Mod
Alive. Not like my brother... And guess what happened to him. Just guess. That son of a bitch that i call my father killed him. He was just a child. Only a baby, actually. He was four years younger than i am, but... the day that it happened... I can remember it so clearly, but yet again it seems like i have no idea what happened at all.

My father and mother were having a fight, as usual, but my father, was especially drug, and my mother took a knife and cut his arm when he tried to get near her. My dad was furious, and he was originally aimed for my mom, but she had a knife in her hand, so he changed his target to me. I was on the stairs watching the fight, at one in the morning. But once i saw him with the fire in his eyes walking in my direction, i ran up the stairs and locked myself in the bathroom. I heard him pounding away and i was screaming for my mother, and, at only for years old, the only thing i could do was cry and scream, i was so defenseless. The pounding stopped, but footprints quaked down the hallway. The following conversation -that was more like a series of threats- i could never forget.

"What are you doing with my son?!" I heard my mom yell.
"Put the knife down. And I will put him down.” He said.

I didn’t expect her to put the knife down. She was defenseless too, just like I was. Her knife was the only defense she had, and if she put it down, then my father would go back to her being the target, and she would get beaten like never before.

What followed was a series of yelling, screaming, crying, falling, any word that I say, would be an understatement to what I was listening to, that was just happening outside of the door.



The yelling died down and it was about five minutes after until I was unfroze from being paralyzed, until I was able to open the door. Blood was smeared on the bathroom door, drops of it were all over the walls, on the stairs, on the tile in the kitchen.
I made my way down to the living room to see my mom kneeling by the couch, with her head down, and with my brother in front of her, in an eternal sleep of motionlessness. She wept. My father was gone in the car. And I cleaned the blood from the walls, as my mother- and also myself- continued to weep.

T_ chapter 2 _T

The month after my brother’s death, my father and mother avoided each other, and the only conversations that they had, was about what they should say if a certain question is asked.
My father broke my brother’s neck, and they told the doctor that he fell into a table and broke his neck. The story was believed at first, but was questioned how an only eleven-month-old would be walking around. My mother said that she was trying to get him to walk, and then he fell. And they believed that. But they never felt safe about the topic.
I, myself, got many lectures on what happened and what was going to happen for a couple of months. I was told that my brother was going to go away and live somewhere else. At the age of four years, I didn’t understand the concept of death, but from the tears running down my mom’s distressed face, I could tell that something was very wrong. I was told never to speak to anyone about my brother. And I haven’t and never will.

It’s a weapon that I refuse to use against my father, because the fact that my mom would also be take to prison. My father would also blame my brother’s death on my mom, and if they could be proven guilty, then they both would be taken to prison for life. There would be a chance that it would just be my father, but at the moment, it wasn’t a chance I could risk. He would blame my mom for it, they both would have dirt on their hands. I couldn’t do it, and I won’t do it. I will never mention the death of my brother to another living soul.


I had laid in the wet bed for what must have been an hour, before I finally set the doll back in its regular place, and dry myself with my blanket. I change into my pajamas and I try and salvage sheets from my bed that aren’t wet. I crawled into bed, and curled into a ball.

It was silent, the only thing that I could hear was the slow and paced heavy breathing of my father. Why, of all people, be crying? How could a person so heartless, feel any sympathy?


(S) Asami Seo Hyun 桜연꽃 꽃 | 1050 comments Mod
((wow john. wow...))


message 13: by [deleted user] (new)

You know, it's funny Watching a sickly hearted man cry out of his wits. Although I was in my room, I could hear him all the way downstairs. I could just imagine his face...his crumbled features showing what once was placed underneath all that skin. His cries seem like a distant howl, a cry that I will ignore.
"Scar?"
I jump up, lost in my own fear. Has my dad just finally gave up on the world and came to me as his final resort?
"Y-yes?" I call out meekly. I start to wonder if dad can smell fear too. I hear his footsteps parade the upstairs and I feel the great intensity in the air.


message 14: by John, (~^u^~)V (last edited Oct 08, 2013 11:59PM) (new)

John x (radishfriends) | 867 comments Mod
What did he want? What should i do? I didn't feel like unlocking my door, at the moment i didn't want to speak to him, and i didn't want to see him. I continued to listen to the pacing footsteps that ran outside of my door.

...

Ten minutes later, the foot steps stopped, and as i lay on my side in my bed i saw that his footsteps stopped right outside of my door, from the shadows that blocked the light from the edge under my door.
His breathing... What was with it? What happened so that my father would act like this.
"Scarlet?" He asked. This time i didn't answer, i knew that it might prevent him from continuing, like it did last time. I kept my mouth shut. "I- I want you to know, if your are still awake." Pause... "That i am so sorry for everything that i have done, for everything...." Pant. Pant. Pant. "I'm so sorry." Pant. Pant.
Was he asking me for forgiveness? I am baffled as my ears comprehend what they just took in.
I continued to think about what could make my dad like this, and then it hit me.

I waited a couple more minutes until my fathers footsteps left the side of my door.
"Happy Birthday Peter." I whispered. "I will always remember you, my brother." I finished, and then laid my head back down on her pillow, listening to the air.


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