Katy Mcallister - Another Empty Bottle
My body had ached all day, desperate to return to the soft embrace of my bed and I was more than happy to oblige. The day had felt long and drawn out, as Fridays always did. Whether I was desperate to get home or dreading walking into my house, Fridays' always felt the same. As much as I hated it, I appreciated the consistency. School was done for the day, and I couldn't be any more relieved. Greedily I pushed open the heavy doors that separated the school from the rest of the world and I couldn't help but pause for a moment and let out a sigh of contentment as the fresh air hit me, combing through my hair with great comfort.
Desperately I rounded the corner at a faster pace to put some distance between me and the school before everyone else came flooding out. Unfortunately for me, the sun was not on my side and decided to harshly blind me. Not for long but long enough to send me crashing into someone's back.
"I'm so-" I cut off my apology just as it had started when my sight finally came back with perfect sadistic timing, I couldn't stop the curving of my lips in distaste at the glowering boy standing in front of me. A perfect sneer contorted his lips, a rivaling match for my own.
"Watch where you're going Lee, are you fucking blind or something?" Reed practically growled, way more angry than he needed to be. I felt sorry for any other person that might happen upon doing the same thing.
"Are you?" I countered and shoved past him with a roll of my eyes. If he was a bit nicer maybe I would be too, but he was a dick and certainly didn't deserve my apology. A grunt sounded from behind me as my shoulder knocked hard into his chest. Now that was worth putting a smile on my lips.
The walk from school wasn't long and always passed quickly, before I knew it I had stopped on the steps of my house and was looking apprehensively at the all too perfect exterior. It was true what some people said about looks being deceiving, sure it was beautiful on the outside. But by God was it ugly, dark, and cold on the inside. Routinely I took out my earphones and tucked them and my phone into my bra, zipping my jacket all the way up so that there wasn't a distinctive shape. If my father saw I had a phone, he would probably kill me. I definitely wouldn't put it past him. With a deep breath, I opened the door, slowly shutting it before shoving my hands deep into my pockets as I made my way down the hall. I couldn't help but glance towards the living room and then wince seeing my father sitting on the couch with a whiskey bottle in his hand. Just like every other Friday. I don't know why I bothered checking every single time, it was always the same. Maybe there was a little too much hope left in me.
Ever so quietly I attempted to make it upstairs without drawing my father's attention, if I was lucky he would be too engrossed in the drink in his hand to pay any mind to me. After all, it was a Friday, and sometimes, just sometimes I really wanted a normal teenage Friday night to myself.
"Take your hands out of your fucking pockets before I fucking do it for you." My fathers' tone was low and calm, not good.
I quickly withdrew my hands from my pockets before briskly walking up the stairs and to my bedroom closing the door behind myself with a sigh. Rather recklessly I chucked my bag to the side of the room and cringed as it made a loud thud, I really needed to get over loud noises. But could you blame me?
My bedroom window was big and took up a good portion of the wall, every time I looked at it I could directly see into my neighbors' bedroom window. I sighed and approached my window, opening it to let some fresh air in and fully prepared to close the curtains. Though as I moved to do so, Reed decided to walk into his room at that exact moment, making brief eye contact with me. And then instantly turned around and basically marched back out. God, what was his problem. At that, I decided to leave my curtains open, if he wanted to ignore my existence he could put his own stupid curtains down.
I didn't waste any time and instantly flopped on my bed and closed my eyes, sighing in relief as I wiggled around and got comfortable. It took a minute longer than it should of before realisation started to dawn on me. A minute far too late. My eyes snapped open and I instantly sat up, my hand automatically flying to my mouth as dread washed over me.
I hadn't answered my father.
A crash sounded from downstairs and footsteps like thunder marched up the stairs.
I hadn't answered my father.
The floorboards moaned and cracked beneath the angry footsteps that pounded down the hall.
I. Hadn't. Answered. My. Father.
Terror seized me and all I could do was sit still as my tongue grew numb with anxiety. I could feel a panic attack coming on, but at that moment that was the furthest concern from my mind. All was suddenly silent apart from my heavy breathing. My ears seemed to block out all sound as my eyes zoomed in on the bedroom door.
Silence.
Nothing.
"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS?!"
There stood my father in the doorway, the door screaming from the force used to be opened.It was mere seconds but it felt like an eternity as I could do nothing but watch my father violently smash his whiskey glass on the wooden floors of my room. And then he was approaching me and taking ahold of my hair with a sharp tug. A second later and I was being dragged downstairs to hell.
Daddy, please forgive me.
