I never asked for the life I lead. I never asked for my mother to marry Joe. I never asked for him to get drunk, for him to beat us. I never asked for her to leave me. I never asked for any of it.
Everyday around 6 his alarm would go off and he would make his way to the shower. I could hear the water hitting the shower wall. Everyday around 6:30 he would make his way downstairs, turn on the coffee pot, make toast, and read the newspaper. I would smell the blackberry jam as it warmed on the toast. Everyday around 7 he would place his dishes in the sink, grab his keys and head to work. I could hear the engine catch in the driveway.
He hasn't spoken a word to me since she left. My mom, that is. He we only communicate through notes and actions. If I didn't finish all of the chores for the day he would beat me. If there was no food in the fridge he would make a list and send me out shopping. If I didn't get everything or got the wrong kind then he would beat me. But he was always careful.
Every Sunday a bunch of Joe's friends would come over to watch the game. He always expected me to be the servant for his parties so he would never leave a visible mark. He would get in a ton of trouble if his cop buddies knew he beat his own daughter. Well, that's not true. I'm not his.
See, my mom was already pregnant with me when she married Joe. I don't know why she did either. She never loved him. She was in love with another man. I don't know who but I know she was. It was obvious. I don't look like Joe, and she never looked at him in that way. I don't see who could.
But today was different. There was no alarm, no shower, no coffee and toast, no leaving for work. Joe had spent the night at some ladies house. He left me the perfect opportunity. I was getting out.