Chapter 11
"Where is it? Where the hell is it!?" my father stumbles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets, obviously searching for the liquor we threw out yesterday.
I'm sitting at the kitchen table writing a new song as my father goes on an alcohol rampage.
DA storms over to me. "What the fuck did you do with it, boy?!"
Obviously, he accuses me.
But then again, I did take it.
I shrug. "Ask Gina."
He growls and bit and then turns around. "BITCH! What did you do with my liquor?!"
Gina walks into the kitchen and puts her hands on her hips. "Shane and I threw it all away. You have a problem that has to stop. And this is where you start."
DA turns to me. "You were a part of this?"
I reluctantly nod. He walks over to me and smacks me across the face. I gasp and then he pushes me over, causing me to fall on the ground. He repeatedly kicks me and I curl up into a ball, trying to protect myself. "You little fuck!" he screams. "How dare you! You had no right to do that!" He starts kicking me even harder.
After he's done kicking me, he pulls me up roughly and grabs my collar as he slaps me. "I can break every bone in your body, you little fuck! Don't you dare mess with me!" He grabs my arm and tries to snap it in half. I scream.
"Robert! Stop hurting him!" Gina scolds.
Oh, now she steps in. Right as I'm sure I've broken something.
Gina walks over to DA and pushes him away from me. I get dropped to the ground, which only makes me cry out in pain.
DA calls me a 'little fuck' a couple more times and kicks me one last time before grabbing his coat. "I'm going to Dane's," he says, leaving the house. Dane is his drinking buddy.
I'm still lying on the ground. Crying. My lip is bleeding, and I have a gash on my forehead. I don't know how that happened, but it did. Gina comes over to me. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"
My jaw drops. "Am I okay? AM I OKAY?! My father just beat me up and snapped my arm in half, I'm lying on the floor, bleeding and crying and you're asking me if I'm okay? IF I'M OKAY!" I sigh. "Just help me up and take me to the hospital."
Gina shakes her head. "If we take you to the hospital and they see you, they'll know your father has abused you, and then I won't have the legal rights to your money."
Oh yeah. Forgot. Money is more important then my health.
"Well," I start, "if I'm dead, there will be no money for you to have, so you might as well take me to the hospital."
She stands her ground. "I'm not taking you."
I scoff. "Fine. I'll take myself."
"Yeah? How you gonna get there?"
"I'll drive."
"You can't drive. You're fifteen."
"Yeah, well I think that dying is a good excuse for underage driving. I hear it's better than underage dying."
"I won't let you go."
"Why not?"
"Wait. Just a little bit longer and you'll be fine."
"A little bit longer and I'll be dead!"
"You're not going to die."
"If I have internal bleeding, yeah, I kinda will."
"What makes you think you have internal bleeding?"
I pull up my shirt a bit. "See these massive bruises? Yeah, I think I'm internally bleeding. Now if you excuse me, I'm off to go see a doctor before I bleed to death," I say and attempt to get up.
Gina stands her ground. "Young man, I will not let you go to a hospital."
I tilt my head slightly to the side. "That sounds so wrong on so many levels."
The sixth crime: I die. My dad just killed me.
Just kidding.
But I do start vomiting blood.
The sixth crime: My father gives me internal bleeding.