Tuesday morning and time for school. As I grabbed my keys, ready to leave, my father took hold of the back of my shirt. For a moment my heart raced as I waited for him to take action. The bottle of vodka fell from his grasp and smashed to the floor and his eyes read pure loathing as he glared at me, stumbling backwards trying to regain his balance. I hurriedly took hold of my bag and darted out the door, gulping in the cool chill of the November air.
School was a drag. I sat through every lesson waiting for it to end, however when it did I could not help but feel uneasy as I knew soon it would be time to go home where my fears lay. At lunch I ate by myself, alone in a corner invisible to everyone. No one even tried to understand what I was feeling and not even any teachers seemed to care. I felt completely alone, trapped in my thoughts a prisoner of my memories and no one cared enough to hand me a key. I walked through the halls and corridors in shame keeping my head down and my thoughts to myself. I felt entirely isolated from everybody around me, if only I had someone to talk to, to ease my conscience then just maybe everything would be so much easier. The bell rang and walking home, I once again was approaching the front door of the place I dreaded most, the place it all seemed to go wrong.
The moon glared through my open window as the chill of the breeze filled my room, causing goose bumps to appear on my skin. The bed creaked as I rolled over and I pulled my duvet up to my chin. As my surroundings started to fade away once again the flashing lights were growing closer and closer. The car horns beeped loudly and my mother screamed as the tyres scraped across the ground. Everything was a blur. I could hear my mother’s heavy breaths slowing down. My father swerved the car as I desperately held out an arm towards my mother’s aid. Once again in the mist of confusion there was a crash and a jolt and there I was lying in bed sweat trickling off my forehead as I gasped for breath. Trying to fall back to sleep, I could not get my mothers last moments out of my head. I could almost hear my father’s screams as he held her close rocking her side to side. Was I meant to have saved her, is that what he wanted? Was he blaming me for this?
A ringing invaded my dreams as I awoke to the sound of my alarm. Stumbling out of bed, just about to get dressed as my door flew open. My father stood there swaying for a moment or two as he frowned at me. The bottle of whisky hung from his hand as he screamed at me to hurry up and slammed the door behind him. I tried hard not to let him bother me but the truth was he did. Everything he said, everything he done made a difference to who I was and how I behaved. I had no friends because I was scared of making a fool of myself and being rejected, just like my father had rejected me. How can you be yourself, act natural and smile with something like this hanging over you? I just felt like the whole world was on my shoulders and nobody ever even bothered to ask if I was alright.
Another school day had begun. Another day of being ignored. How much longer would this go on for? I wish I could just be myself without any worries and just be like any other 16 year old. I was failing most my lessons for lack of concentration and no homework done, so there was not even a hope for a good future. This was it for me. The bell rang and my eyes flew open as I realised it was the end of the day. Step by step, walking as slowly as possible, I realised that it was time to do something about all my problems; I needed to find a solution. I could not go on living my life this way. As I for the third time that week approached the front door I slipped inside and ran up the stairs. I emptied my school bag and began packing it with all kinds of stuff. My toothbrush, some clothes, some food...etc. I grabbed a sleeping bag and as quickly and quietly as possible sneaked out my room and into my father’s room. His wallet lay on his bed. I opened it and took out all money inside of it, including credit cards, and quiet as a mouse tip toed out the room.
“What the hell you doing in my room?!” yelled my father as he marched towards me in fury. I was completely lost for words and as I drew myself up to reply he smacked me hard across the face. It took me a moment or two to realise what had happened. He glanced at my many bags.
“Where are you off to?”
As I stuttered the truth to him his expression softened. He looked completely stunned. He stood aside to let me pass and as I cautiously did so he uttered a word of apology and for the first time since my mother’s death he looked at me with emotion and care.
Till this day I cannot forget the look on his face when I told him I was leaving. It was almost as if he loved me.