The truth in our songs

Chapter 2

Maia-Jane Miller

,, Why are you late! ,, a deep voice slurred from the living room as I entered the white wooden front door of our little red brick stone house.

,, I had school. ,, I answered towards the room and walked straight into the kitchen that was located next to the front door, not wanting to face him right now.

I didn't put my backpack down as I intended when I saw the mess in the room. Used pans were lying in the sink and burnt eggs all over the stove, empty beer bottles placed on the table and everywhere possible, a full cold coffee pot stood in its place and used kitchen towels lay on the floor. Anger came up in me and my knuckles turned white as I gripped the bag straps firmly, observing the chaos. What else did I expect? The shuffling steps that I noticed came slowly in my direction and I turned around, my eyebrows knitted and my face was bitter.

,, What the hell did you do in here? You could have cleaned up at least! ,, I snapped as I saw my father's face appearing in front of me. His vision was bloodshot and the dark circle under his eyes darker than dirt, the stubbles on his chin and cheeks were neglected and made him look like a drunkard- oh wait, he was one.

The strong scent of alcohol reached my nose and embraced me. He smelled like he hadn't taken a shower in ages and his greasy hair looked like dipped into oil. The plaid shirt he was wearing for almost a week now had stains from whatever and his hands were rough with dirt under his long fingernails. My father looked at me angrily and came closer as I stepped back to not smell his drunkenness too much.

,, I made myself coffee! ,, he said and I rolled my eyes at him.

,, You didn't drink it. ,, I answered, he wouldn't have such a bad breath if he had at least taken a sip of it. ,, Stop trying to make the situation better than it is. I know you're drunk and that you've been drinking all day. ,,

,, So? I can do whatever the fuck I want! Clean this up, will you? And then go buy me new beer. Mine's out. ,, he demanded.

,, No. ,, I answered simply and looked at him. I was not his cleaner, neither someone to push around.

,, What did you say? ,, he spit and the alcohol in his system made itself more noticeable.

,, I said no. ,, repeating my answer, my eyes locked with his, unbothered and empty.

,, I told you to go get me new beer and when I tell you to do something, you do it because I'm the father and you're the child. ,, his face came dangerously close and he grabbed my arms.

I'm the father and you're the child

,, When have you ever been a father- ,, I laughed into his face. Because of him we had all these problems, it was all because of him. He had ruined this family.

,, One more word, I warn you! ,, his yellow teeth, he'd probably never brushed, grittet together.

,, Let go of me. ,, I said calmly and looked down at his big hands still around my arms, squeezing them together painfully.

But he didn't and just pushed me harder against his grip, even the drunken ass he was, his strength never gave up and just became more violent. ,, Mum would be so disappointed in you if she could see you right now and the person you became. ,, I whispered and before I could look at him again, he had pushed me into the edge of the kitchen table and the pain like a stab into my back.

,, Shut your fucking mouth! ,, he yelled and slapped me across my face before he hurled me on the floor and threw one of the empty beer bottles at me.

I covered my face with my hands and the bottle hit them, luckily didn't break, just leaving a pricking feeling behind. I felt like my hands just got broken but had no time to think about that when I felt his foot kicking my left leg unexpectedly, I screamed in pain. My eyes flew open to look what he was about to do next, however he had already gripped my chin in his hands and forced me to look at him.