Chapter 1
532 Words
"For goodness sake..., Ash get down here immediately!" I hear my father shout from below.
Okay, what did he want now? Couldn't he leave me alone for a second?
I groaned but got up nonetheless since I knew it would be a mistake to aggravate him more. I've been there too many times before...
I gently make my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where my father is standing with what looks to be an empty beer can.
"As usual," I thought to myself, but I kept my lips shut and waited for him to say what I expected.
"Explain it now! Didn't I tell you to go get me some more beer yesterday? He was giving me angry glances, and I figured it wasn't a good idea to inform him that he'd already finished the beers I brought him yesterday. Instead, I shrugged and replied, "Sorry, sir, I forgot."
He slammed the refrigerator shut and stomped towards me. I refused to cover myself, even though I wanted to since I knew he'd strike me worse if I did. When he arrived at me, he grabbed my arm tightly, and I made an unreadable expression as he raised his fist to strike me.
His outstretched hand struck my face, and I was knocked down by the sheer power of his attack. My so-called 'father' was certainly not a weak guy.
He wasn't my real father, however, since I, like everyone else in this home, am a foster kid. He keeps us around to make money, and he makes us work so he can relax at home and drink beer. Not that it was ever enough; he craved more, and recently he had been worse than usual. He didn't even wait for the bruises from his most recent strikes to heal before giving me fresh ones.
Believe me, I despised him.
I remained down to prevent being attacked again, but he kicked me many times in the ribs before throwing something at me and backing away.
"Go to the store boy, and buy me some beer now, if you don't want me to give your 'little sister' a visit later." He growls at me.
I throw him a furious look before grabbing the money he tossed at me and getting up from the floor. I ignored the ache in my side, which most likely signals that I have injured or broken my ribs, and tightened my jaw before saying:
"I'll go but only if you swear not to touch her."
'She' was a girl called Kate, who had been brought here a month before. I remained away from the other youngsters but not her. She had gotten to me, and I couldn't tolerate seeing her suffer. I'd give everything to keep the guy in front of me away from her. I nearly considered her my younger sister. She's just five, but she speaks like a girl twice her age, trust me. Because I am the eldest of the kids in this family, I feel responsible for all of them, but particularly for her.
He nodded at me, and I didn't say anything more; I just turned on my heels and went.
- Writer
