*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1821451-Hurt-and-Abandoned
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1821451
A 16 year old boys mother gets abused by his father and he gets left behind in the end.
My name is Jewels Markus, I am sixteen and I just ended my sophomore year. I have swishy black hair and blue eyes; I am a twin with my sister Jessica. I am an honor student of every grade; I’m only sixteen and I already have scholarship letters coming in. My family consists of Karen (mom), Daniel (Dad), Jessica (Sister), and Charles (Dog).

Our family might not be big, but we have a lot of issues. Dad physically abuses mom… It’s horrible. It was ten O’clock at night and Mom was waiting for Dad to get home from work, but he never came. She kept his food warm from dinner just in case he was going to show, but he never did. At three am, we heard a door slam and heavy footsteps going into the living room. We heard glass breaking and yelling. I went downstairs with a bat to make sure everything was ok, but little did I know it was dad who was breaking things and yelling at nothing. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t answer me. He started yelling slurred words at me, I knew right then that he had been at the bar the whole time. Getting drunk and passing out seemed to be more important to him than his own family. I started yelling back.

“Do you know how long Mom has been waiting for you to get home?!?”

“I was at the bar.” – Dad said.

“I know you were at the bar, are you stupid? Mom has been waiting for you all night! She has been keeping your food warm for when you got home, but you never showed up. Are you trying to drain her of happiness? Are you trying to hurt her? If you’re not it just shows how much a horrible husband you are; leaving your wife, our mother, alone in the dark to wait for you when you would never come. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

He started to cry. He told me he was sorry and that he didn’t mean to be there all night; he had just lost track of time.

“It’s not me you need to be apologizing to. Go find mom, go apologize to her, go and help her.”

As he went upstairs, I threw my bat down on the floor and threw myself down on the couch. I couldn’t stop thinking about the things I yelled at him. I wondered what would have happened if I didn’t start yelling those things. Would he have thrown something? Would he have broken something else? Would he have stormed out? I stopped thinking about the possibilities and just focused on what’s happening now. I lay down on the couch and tried to close my eyes, tried to get some sleep, but I couldn’t. As I was just a second away from sleep, I heard mom yell and something break. I immediately sprung up and bolted up the stairs. I ran into Mom’s room where dad was standing. His arms were at his sides, he looked angry. Mom was on the floor against the wall, her hand on her cheek. He had hit her. I could tell that he hit her. I was so built up with anger that I lunged at dad, screaming things like, “I hate you! Leave mom alone! Leave!” But I couldn’t touch him.

He punched me in the gut, then the face; he hit me against the wall. I fell to the floor and couldn’t move. I wasn’t thinking about me though. I was thinking about how mom felt; about how Jessica would feel if she was here and not at her friend Mary’s house. She would be cowering in a corner crying. When I thought of that, the anger built up again. I got up and ran at him, he didn’t notice. I punched him and he staggered back, dazed. He couldn’t believe that I hit him. When he realized I did, his body filled with rage. I went back to the wall, surprised at myself that I hit him. He ran at me and went for my face. I dodged and his fist went through the wall. If I wouldn’t have moved, I would have a broken jaw and nose. I went over and kicked his leg. When he fell, he hit his head off the floor and was knocked out. Mom and I tried to carry him to the sofa in the family room right next to hers. When we got him on the couch, mom hugged me. She told me that she was so proud of me for standing up for her; for helping save her from my father.

She still had the red handprint on her face. I still couldn’t believe he hit her. We went to bed and that morning we woke up and noticed that dad wasn’t on the sofa anymore. He must have gone to work. I wonder if he remembers the fight or the words I yelled at him. I thought it would be better off if he didn’t.

When he got home it was six pm. Mom had just finished dinner and Jessica had just gotten home from Mary’s. It seemed that he had no recollection of the night before. We got lucky with that. We all sat down at the dinner table, but we didn’t say a word to each other. When everyone was done eating, we all got up and went our separate ways. Jess went to her room, Dad went to the living room, Mom went to the kitchen to do dishes, and I just walked up stairs with Charles and into my room. Charles is a brown and black Doberman, he is two years old. He loves playing fetch and swimming. When you take him for a walk, he’ll run at full speed. He’s the perfect dog for me. We go running every day. Then there’s Jessica. She’s kind of lazy, but she’s as skinny as a twig. She looks almost exactly like me but with long black hair (well, we are twins). She’s very quiet. She gets picked on a lot too. Everyone walks all over her, and she lets them! I don’t know why though, she’s so strong willed. When she says she will or can do something, she will keep her word. She is probably the most trustworthy girl I know (and not just because she’s my sister). She will always help a person in need. She’s never home though; she likes to roam, to see places she’s always wanted to see. So far she has been to Paris, Italy, Indonesia, Greece, and Texas. The one place she really wants to see is Alaska, but she doesn’t have enough money. I told her I’d help her but she refused to take the offer. That’s another thing I like about her, she will never accept money from people. She has this thing with pride that has her do things on her own. She’s still amazing at being independent. I wish someday she would take me somewhere with her, just to get away from the house for a while. She wouldn’t go for it though. She likes to be alone; to not be dragged down by anyone. So I never ask.

As it was getting dark, I took Charles for a walk. We walked for an hour before heading back to the house. We walked at least two, maybe three miles. It took us half the time to run back, we were both out of breath. When we got in the house it was silent. I yelled for someone but I got no answer. Where did everyone go? Great, they went out without me. I walked into the kitchen and found a note on the table, it was from mom. The note said that they had gone out, and that they would be back at twelve. Its one am now. I didn’t worry about it too much, so I went upstairs to bed. When I woke up, still, no one was home. I made myself breakfast and fed Charles. For once I was having a good morning. This is the first without everyone yelling, fighting, and storming out of the room. I was happy, but worried. Where were they? Did they take Jessica with them? Why didn’t they wait for me? I decided I didn’t care and went on with my day. I ended up playing video games almost all day.

It’s been three bdays since they left. I started to freak out. They left me behind. They abandoned me. They left me with no money, food, or way of paying bills for the house. I am alone, forever. Where did they go? Why did they leave? I guess I’ll never know, because they are never coming back. My family has abandoned me. Why am I so hated? Unloved? Why am I always left alone? Why have I been abandoned….

© Copyright 2011 skittlestoxic (skittlestoxic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1821451-Hurt-and-Abandoned