I wake up to a gentle hand on my shoulder.
Startled, I fling myself forward into a brick wall of hot, humid, August air.
“Good morning” I say with a rasp, my eyes still closed. The sun burns through my eyelids, it
must be around 12:00. “She went into the hospital last night. The baby has been born.”
Suddenly, my eyes shoot open. Ignoring the sting, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and
lower myself to the cold hardwood floor. “I'll have coffee ready for you.” My father smiles and
leaves my room. I get down on my hands and knees to retrieve my slippers from under my bed,
then bolt down the stairs for my coffee. As I come down the stairs I glance over the banister and
he is pouring the milk. I sit on the wooden bar stool as he places a mug in front of me. “Your
aunt and uncle are coming by in an hour to celebrate. Your sister will come by as well.” He
smiles and takes a sip of his own coffee “okay, i'll take a shower right away.” My coffee is still
too hot but I blow on it with care and let myself take in the scent. Fresh coffee has always been
comforting to me. I’ve been waking up to coffee since I was 8 and drinking it with my father. My
mother comes up from the basement carrying a bin of freshly washed towels. We do not speak,
we do not make eye contact. It's been this way for about a month now. We got into an argument
over me not wearing my slippers and it ended with her telling me she wants nothing to do with
me and to never speak to her again. Quickly, I excuse myself to the bathroom. I turn on the sink
and place my head under the faucet. I wash my hair and drown myself in deodorant as fast as I
can. Most days I don’t bother taking full showers. If I take more than 7 minutes they start to yell
and knock at the door. I brush my teeth and dry my hair just in time to see my aunt and uncle
come through the back door. I greet both of them and note the two large bottles of
alcohol in my uncle’s arms. They come in the house and sit at the bar as my mom makes some
snacks for them in the kitchen. After a few painful hours of small talk and congrats, I hear the
back door open once more. “Hey!” My sister reminds me of a lion; she has a huge head of
golden curly hair and she’s constantly unnecessarily loud. She thinks she’s better than
everyone else, but at the same time doesn’t mind playing stupid for the approval of others.
Because of this She’s always been very popular in school. She slides off her shoes and throws
them to the side. “What’s up, loser?” I smile and give her a hug. “You're finally here!” my mother
comes out of the kitchen to greet my sister. “Us adults are going to sit outside for a drink. You
stay in here.” It’s impressive how easily my mom can ignore me. My sister sits at the bar and I
sit in the swivel chair at the computer and kick my feet up on a bar stool. “How’s your dog?” I
always ask, I don’t care too much but my sister’s partner’s dog and I share a name. “She’s
great! We put her on a raw food diet recently and she’s loving it. Speaking of food, I’m starving.”
She hops off her stool and runs to the fridge “You know, since we’ve put the dog on raw food
her breath started to smell better. Maybe you should try it out.” She laughs and peeks over the
fridge door at me. I laugh and take off my slipper and playfully throw it at her back. She picks it
up and holds it over her head. I watch as her mood changes from playful back into the power
hungry lion I know her to be. “Say sorry right now or I won’t give this back to you.” I’m not ready
to give up my joke for her to feel control so I stand up and run over her to try and play fight the
slipper from her hand. I wrap my arms around her waist and lightly push her back, then stand
up to reach for the slipper over her head. I’m not too tall, but I have a good inch or two over my
sister, although she's much stockier than I have ever been. As I reach over her head I feel a fist
connect with my cheek. “What the fuck, dude?” I step back surprised and look at her? “What,
you thought i’d just let you attack me?” I know the look in her eyes. I don’t know how, but all of
the women in my family have a gift to be able to manipulate situations to make them the victim.
“Are you kidding me? I was obviously joking. Why would I try to fight you for my fucking
slipper?” She rolls her eyes at me and sighs like I’m an inconvenience to her. “Because you
have anger issues and can’t
control yourself.” that hurt. “Why the hell would you say that to me?” Now, I’m actually angry
and she realises that she’s gotten just the reaction she wanted from me. The back door slams
open. “Why are you yelling? I have guests in the back yard and you two are yelling at each
other. The kitchen window is open and we can all hear you. Why do you always have to
embarrass me?” Standing in the doorway is my dad. He stands about 5’11 but he has the
stocky figure that my sister inherited. I can tell he’s been drinking by the way his chest is puffed
out with his hands on his hips. His stand-offish tone and the way he purses his lips and holds
his mouth to the side make me sick to my stomach. My sister notices too and takes advantage
of the situation “She hit me.” My jaw drops open and I struggle to get my words out. “What??
No, I was trying to play-fight with her.” “That's a lie, she threw her slipper at my head and
slapped me.” My sister has always been a better liar than me. Being deceitful has never been
my nature, nor have I ever been good at getting my thoughts together. I can see in my dad’s
face that it’s already too late for me to plead my case. “What the fuck is wrong with you. You are
such a useless little shit. Where the fuck did I go wrong. Go upstairs.” The words punch me in
the stomach and I hold back my tears thinking “Don’t let him see you cry, it’ll only make things
worse.” I run up the stairs and make a left into my room. I sit at my desk and pull out my phone
and open the big drawer on my desk a crack enough that I can drop my phone in. I can hear
yelling downstairs. My sister and father arguing. It's hard for me to make out words but I don’t
really need to. I know what's going on. I text my best friend. I tell him my family is arguing. I
begin to text him the details when I suddenly hear my father stomping up the stairs. I drop my
phone into my desk. He won’t take it away if he doesn’t see it.
The door opens and I turn my chair so my back is facing the wall and I can see myself and the
door in my mirror. I don’t bother talking, talking makes it all worse. I tell myself “don’t let him
see you weak. Don’t cry. Straight face. Don't speak.” “You better fucking pray god will save
you.” suddenly the hands that were so gentle just a few hours ago become the most terrifying
thing I have ever experienced. His hands come up, and then come down. His hands are big so
his
closed hand makes contact from my cheekbone to my jaw on the right side. “What is wrong with
you?” the words come out like foam from the muzzle of a rabid dog. I don’t answer. “No
answer?” the second hit comes down the same as the second one, followed by a third. “Don’t
flinch. Don’t cry. You are not weak.” “Do you have an answer now?” I catch a glimpse of myself
in the mirror, one tear falls. “Are you crying? I’ll show you something to cry for” A fourth hit, full
contact from my cheekbone to my jaw once again, I feel myself slip out of consciousness
momentarily. Forcing myself to sit up, I see myself in the mirror once again. I look up at my
father and see a man blinded by hatred, broken over the knee of war. He walks out of my room
and slams the door shut. I sink to the floor and sob. I get as many tears out as I can and wipe
my face clean. My eyes are bloodshot but nobody will be looking at them. “Come downstairs.”
reluctantly, I stand up from the floor. I walk down the stairs and glance over the banister like I
did this morning. My sister is sitting at the bar with her head down in her arms. My father is
standing in the kitchen and my mother by his side. I sit at the bar and they begin yelling at us. I
zone out on the counter top tiles and block out the barrage of insults that are being thrown at
us. I’m pulled out of my trance by my sister’s high pitched screech. “What? Why would you even
say that! I didn’t do anything wrong. SHE hit ME!” She gets up and keeps running her mouth as
she dramatically starts to leave. She gets louder and louder by the minute. “Shut up. You’re
making it so much worse.” She ignores me and leaves. Now it’s my turn again. “Why did you hit
her?” My father’s eyes burn into me. “I didn’t!” I lean back to create distance. I’m on the
defensive once again. “Why did you hit her?” He never gives up once he believes something. “I
didn’t.” The barrage of insults starts again. I take a deep breath and let myself tune out their
voices once again. “What is that face? Are you giving me sass?” I take my eyes off the cold
tiles. “I was never making a face, that’s just what I look like.” “Get out.” I’m sure I looked just as
shocked as I was, but I did my best to hide it. “What?” I make hard eye contact with my father. “I
said get out of my house, you ungrateful piece of shit.” “fine then.” I realize at this point that they
wanted me to submit, to cry and get on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. Tell them
I need
them. Not today. I place my feet on the ground once again, this time leaving my slippers
behind. I go to my room and grab a big backpack. I shove my phone in my bra to make sure it’s
hidden. Not knowing how long it would take me to come home, I place my boyfriend's two
sweaters into the bottom of my bag along with underwear, socks, a pair of pants, and a pair of
shorts. I throw
a hat, a speaker, and deodorant in my bag and I head downstairs. Eyes glued on the floor to
hide my tears, I slide my sneakers on and shove a jacket into my bag. My mom comes out and
blocks the door with my father standing firmly behind her. She’s hysterical, and he’s drunk and
angry. “What are you doing?” I know that if I try to speak to them I'll break down so I give my
most robotic answer. “He told me to leave so I’m leaving.” “No, you’re not allowed to leave.” I
can see her thoughts running behind her eyes. I look at my father standing behind her like an
iron wall, his eyes blank with absolutely no thoughts behind them. “He told me to leave so I’m
leaving.” I look back up at my father “hit her. Hit her right now.'' They corner me into their room
and I make a run for the bedroom door propping up my backpack on my back. I run into the
bathroom into the hallway, through the dining and living rooms and stop at the door to the front
mud room. While opening the doors to the front room I feel my mother grab my backpack. I am
much stronger than her, we’ve fought before and I never once have felt like she could
overpower me so I just push myself through the two glass doors into the mud room. “What are
you doing?” She yells at me again, grabbing at my backpack and clothes trying to pull me back
while my father continues to stare down at us blindly. “He told me to leave so I’m leaving.” With
one arm I push her off of me. “Hit her.” I look my mother in the eyes. I hit her back once about
five years ago, I’m prepared to hit back now and I think she can read it on my face. She opens
our big red front door for me. “Fine. get out then.” I look outside and it feels like a movie. I look
at the trees and I feel the breeze and humidity rush in through the door. They really don’t
fucking think i'll do it. “Goodbye.” I feel the bottom of my vans hit the wood porch and the reality
of the situation hits me. I hear the door shut behind me and I begin to walk away as I pull out my
phone. I know exactly who to text. I open instagram and look at the battery percentage. Fuck,
15%. I text my old teacher who is now one of the only people I trust enough to bother at this
moment. “I got kicked out of the house. I’m not too sure what to do.” I shut off my phone
and make a run for the closest place I know has wifi. I can feel the sweat dripping down my
back and my legs while I run. Is it from the heat? Could it be from stress? Who cares. I get
to the
crosswalk and don’t bother waiting. If I get hit by a car on Main street right now it would be
much easier than having to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do next. I run into the lobby
of Burger King and decide to stand next to the front door so they don’t ask me if I need
anything. Suddenly, the whole left side of my face begins to throb and I feel terrible sharp pain
behind my eyes. I start to sob and I sit on the concrete. People walk by me and I feel their eyes
pry into me, but nobody stops to ask if I'm ok. I open my phone and connect to the wifi. 5 texts
from my friend and one from my middle sister. I click on his texts.
“What?”
“What happened? “
“Are you safe?”
“Where are you?”
“Do you need me to come pick you up?”
“Hey, sorry I had to find somewhere with wifi.
Yes if you're not busy I would really appreciate
it if you could come get me”
“Yes, I can leave in five minutes where are you??”
“Burger king on Main and Jefferson. If you want I can just walk to school if it's easier.”
“Nope, just stay where you are, i'll be there in 20 minutes.”
I stop crying and decide to open my sister's message and skim it.
“You’re such a selfish piece of shit, nina. I can’t believe you'd do this. Where are you?”
“I’m selfish? That’s hilarious. Why the fuck would I tell you where I am?”
“All you do is cause everyone around you Stress. I can’t stand you. Tell me where you Are right now or I’m calling the police”
“I’m at the Tim Hortons by the bank.”
“Mom is coming to get you.”
“Tell her not to waste her time.”
“She’s on the way.”
“Good thing I’m not there, hey?”
I look up from my phone and watch my friend pull up. A tsunami of relief rolls over me and I run into his passenger seat and immediately start sobbing. I collapse into him and he places a hand on my head while I cry. I realize how bad I smell. I should have taken a shower today. I cry more because I appreciate that my friend is hugging me anyways. “Hey, it’s okay, we're gonna figure this out together.” I sit up and look at him. “Can we drive, please?” “yeah, of course.” He pulls out of his parking spot and drives north. I firmly hit my head against the dashboard. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.” he places a hand on my head again. “Well, first off, don’t hurt yourself. Second off, I’ve told you so many times I’m here for you if you need ANYTHING. I’m happy to help. Take your time, and tell me what happened.” I recount the events of the last hour to him, leaving out any mentions of being hit. “Did he hit you?” I really don’t want to talk about it. I stare at the floor and punch my legs “Yeah, a couple times.” I look up, He still has his eyes on the road, but he furrows his brow and his smile goes away. I’ve never seen my friend look angry before but I can see this information upset him. We take a right into some random rich Riverbend community and park on a side street. We turn to each other and he starts to rationalize my options. He wipes the concern off his face and gives me a comforting smile. “Well, where can you go?” “I’m really not sure, My phone is about to die and I don’t have wifi.” he reaches into his console and pulls out a phone charger with a bunch of different ends and plugs in my phone. “You can use my hotspot. Now let’s think of options.” “I could text my boyfriend but he's at his cabin and his dad is a police officer and that makes me nervous.” “okay, what other options do we have?” I open my texts from my sister.
“Youre so stupid why would you lie to me.”
“Answer me right now.”
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??”
“Youre actually so fucking dumb.”
“My friend picked me up.”
“Is that your sister?” I sigh harshly “yeah.” he looks at my phone screen “I know she’s basically why this happened, but do you think you could stay there?” I sink into my chair and begin to cry again. “Yeah, I mean probably… God, I’m so sorry.” He laughs at me a little. “It’s fine, you goon. I already told you not to apologize. How about we figure out an apology text and we see if you can stay there for a night.” I wipe my face again and look up at him. “yeah, okay.” He takes my phone and writes out a paragraph. “Here, read this and tweak it. Then send it if you think it'll be ok.” I read the message and send it, it’s fine. She texts back and tells me to come there. “What if I go there and my mom is there?” He looks out the window “it's a possibility” “I can deal with it” I sigh, Honestly, I don’t think I can but it’s my only option. “Okay, let’s start driving.” We turn around to begin the 20 minute drive to my sisters apartment. My friend is talking and making jokes to fill the silence and to make me feel more comfortable. I take a moment to appreciate that even though my father sometimes isn’t good to me, at least I have some men I can see as role models in my life, I thank my friend in my head. He’s like a big brother to me. “I really have to pee.” Suddenly, through my thoughts I realize I'm about to piss my pants. My friend laughs loudly and looks at me “It’s funny the amount of things you stop feeling when you’re on adrenaline, hey?” he pulls to an A’n’W. “Thank you.” I swing open the car door and take my bag with me. I go into the A’n’W and run into the washroom. I pee and take off my shirt and put on my boyfriend's black hoodie, then drown myself in more deodorant, yelling at myself for not taking a better shower this morning. I’ve always been so insecure about smelling, but to be fair it’s not like I was planning today’s lovely extravaganza. I walk to the sink and wash my hands. I take a moment to look in the mirror at my slightly swollen face, wince, and look away. I splash water on my face to wipe away the tears and dry it off with a paper towel. I leave the bathroom and get back to the car. The drive to my sister's apartment feels so long, but the conversation with my friend doesn't stop. We begin to approach the destination and I once again become very anxious. “Would you mind if instead of dropping me off at the building, you drop me off a bit down the street? I want to walk a little.” The fresh air would be really nice. “Yeah, sure, if that makes you more comfortable” We pull into a parking lot just a couple blocks away from my sister’s apartment. I give my friend a hug. “I really can’t thank you enough, I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I’m so sorry.” He headpats me once more. “You gotta stop apologizing to me.” I smile and leave the car. I step out and breathe in the air. It’s so fresh, I appreciate how welcoming the outdoors are. I begin walking towards the building. “Hey!” I whip my head around back to look at my friend's car. “You’re gonna be okay.” he smiles at me. I smile back and take a deep breath. I wave him goodbye and I walk forward. I make an effort not to look back and accept that everything happens for a reason.
I say outloud to myself “I’m gonna be okay.”
(august 2020)