I shake my head.
She laughs. “Fuck, Cara! I thought I taught you better than this! You really are just a little slut, aren’t you? I’m disappointed in you. Shit, might as well keep the baby at this point. Seems you got the brain of every other woman in town.”
I stand up, feeling like I’m either going to stab her with a kitchen knife or…stab her with a kitchen knife.
“I’m so glad you have such high expectations of me, Mom.” I sob, walking towards the door.
“I did have high expectations of you until you went and knocked yourself up! Now look at you. No job, no man, nonothingexcept a money sucker livin’ in that belly of yours.”
I open the door and step out. Looking over my shoulder, I cry, “I thought when I needed you most, you might be there for me, but I guess I was wrong.”
She shrugs. “What do you want me to say? I’m only tellin’ you the truth.”
I shake my head sadly and start walking down the stairs.
“Don’t you come cryin’ to me when you can’t get that baby to sleep! Up all night cryin’ and you’re tired as hell.Do not come to me, Cara!”
I hold my breath until I get down the stairs. I walk out the back exit, wanting to avoid Jed and Lewis’ prying eyes.
Once I get through the door and back onto the main street, I let loose the sob that’s been begging to be set free.
If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I never want to becomeanythinglike that woman upstairs.
4
Jackson
Age Thirteen
Iwake up tothe sound of banging, and my face is covered in frown lines and worry before I’m even fully awake. This is my alarm clock every morning. I wake up to the sound of my mom or dad clattering around in the kitchen. Sometimes, it’s my dad barking orders at my mom. My dad won’t be bothered to give me a clock or TV in my room to check the time, so I mostly have to go off the direction of the sun and the noises in the other room.
Since we moved here four months ago, my mom has become a zombie. She’s so hopped up on whatever kind of drugs that my dad gives her, I don’t think she’s even said a handful of words to me since we stepped foot in this place. She sits in front of the TV slumped over in a drug induced daze. On the bad days she doesn’t even leave her room. Those are the times I won’t even see her for a week.
I’m sad, because I figured moving here would be a good thing. I thought changing scenery and getting away from the bad would give us a fresh start; a place where we can start over and I can finally be happy.
I was so, so wrong.
I can’t say that it’s worse than before, because it’s not. My dad works long hours and I don’t have to worry about him breathing over my shoulder every second of the day. But when he’s home, it’s like I’m an incessant fly that he just can’t get away from.
I also have my friends now. They’ve accepted me for me, and although they sometimes give me a side eye at my silence, they let me hang around them. The invite me to do dumb shit like throw rocks down at the river and shoot our air soft guns in the woods at old beer cans. Easton was given a real gun by his dad, but he’s not allowed to use it and says his dad will kill him if he disobeys him.
I’m all too familiar with the tendencies of a controlling dad.
I sigh and roll out of bed. I just started school a month ago. School sucks, and I wish it was summertime still. I don’t know anyone at this school except Easton, Logan, and that annoying neighbor Cara that wants to tag along everywhere. I have homeroom with Logan and math with Easton, but other than that, I’m surrounded by a bunch of strangers all day.
When I hear a plate shatter on the ground, my body tenses and I glance at my window. I wonder how much shit I would get in if I just snuck out my window. My side clenches just thinking about it. I grab a shirt that’s on my floor and yank it over my head.
Walking out to the kitchen, I see my mom hunched over large shards of glass on the floor as she tries to sweep it up with her bare hands.
“Mom…” I sigh, walking up to her and watching the depressing scene in front of me. When I hear a door creak from the other side of the house, Mom and I both freeze and look over our shoulder.
“What was that noise? What the fuck did you do?” Dad barks, hair wet from the shower as he buttons up his nice top.
He’s made his way to the higher ranks in Rich Malone’s business in no time. My dad came to Minnesota with nothing except us strapped to his back. No loyalties or excuses or obligations. He knew what he was getting into and he was all in. Now he works hard and long hours to prove himself. From what I’ve heard, he’s proving to be a loyal partner. He dresses nice and acts like a loving father and husband in front of everyone.
No one knows what happens behind closed doors. They might suspect, but no one will ever assume or say anything.
“I-I’m sorry.” Mom slurs, grabbing the glass pieces and bringing them over to the trash can. She’s fucked up and it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning yet.