Chapter 4
Val
"Oh, no you're not, young man!" My father yelled, passing my "room" as I threw all my worldly belongings in an old duffle. "I'm your father, and I say you stay right here."
Dumb shit. For God's sake, I've been eighteen years old for months now, and he's been treating me horribly since I've been born. How long does he honestly expect to keep me here?
"Yes, I can, Dad, and I'm taking Stacie with me," I sighed, stuffing my "lucky charm", a battered old stuffed bear my mom gave me when I was born, at the top of the bag, and zipping it shut.
"Like hell you are!" He bit off.
"Well, there's no way in hell I'm letting her stay here!" I shouted back. "You're stoned most of the time, and whenever you're not, you're cooking up schemes to get more money to buy more pot! What makes you think I'm going to let her stay with you?"
"What the fuck do you know about this Haley girl, anyway?" Dad asked.
"Hallie," I corrected automatically. I slid the shirt I had worn this morning over my head, and pointed to the bruise on my right shoulder.
"For one thing, she doesn't beat people."
"How do you know?" Dad asked.
"Just an instinct," I replied sarcasticly, shrugging a clean shirt over my head, and checking my reflection in the grimy mirror over my bed. Dear Lord, do I ever need a haircut...
"Well then, take your 'instinct'-ing ass out of my house and don't come back! But don't you dare touch your baby sister, you hear?" He snapped. "Do whatever the hell you want with your life, you're not my fucking responsibility anymore," Dad snapped, his harsh words receeding to a grumble at the end of his speech.
"Yeah, I hear you, dad," I sighed. But the real question is, was I listening?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Stacie
There's a lot of yelling again. Daddy's yelling at Val, and Val's yelling at Daddy. Doesn't Val remember that when you yell back at Daddy, you get hurt? I don't like it when Val gets hurt, because then he can't tell me the story about the little mermaid. The one mommy told him so long ago...
"I'm going, I'm going," I heard Val grumbling as he thudded out of the house.
Smiling, he poked his head into my room.
"Hey, Littlebit," he asked, using his special nickname just for me. "Wanna go for a walk?"
Yeah! I jumped up, nodding my head, and scooched into my sneakers.
"Oh no, you don't," Daddy growled. I don't like when he does that, it means I'm gonna get hurt.
"Oh yes, he does," came a voice from the door. Mrs. Wilkes!
Val grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door before Daddy had a chance to protest. "Thanks, Mrs. W.," he whispered on the way by.
We were outside now, and it's pretty cold. When I ask Val where we're going, he just says it's somewhere safe. I hope it's Brink's house. I like Brink. When I tell Val as much, though, he looks at me like I'm nuts.
"No," he says. "We're going to live with a girl named Hallie."
"But she's blind!" I cry. I should know. Lara, from school, lives right down the street from the skatepark, and she says that sometimes she sees Hallie walking around her lot with one of those funky blind-people canes.
"No, she's not," Val replies.
"Yes, Lara says she is," I try to explain.
"I don't care what Lara says," Val tells me. "I just ate breakfast with her a few hours ago, and she is definately not blind."
"Did you see her eyes?" I ask. "Lara says you can tell if someone is blind because their eyes don't focus on you."
Val rolls his eyes, and I can tell he's mad at me for mentioning Lara again, but he says nothing.
I thought so.
Val
"Oh, no you're not, young man!" My father yelled, passing my "room" as I threw all my worldly belongings in an old duffle. "I'm your father, and I say you stay right here."
Dumb shit. For God's sake, I've been eighteen years old for months now, and he's been treating me horribly since I've been born. How long does he honestly expect to keep me here?
"Yes, I can, Dad, and I'm taking Stacie with me," I sighed, stuffing my "lucky charm", a battered old stuffed bear my mom gave me when I was born, at the top of the bag, and zipping it shut.
"Like hell you are!" He bit off.
"Well, there's no way in hell I'm letting her stay here!" I shouted back. "You're stoned most of the time, and whenever you're not, you're cooking up schemes to get more money to buy more pot! What makes you think I'm going to let her stay with you?"
"What the fuck do you know about this Haley girl, anyway?" Dad asked.
"Hallie," I corrected automatically. I slid the shirt I had worn this morning over my head, and pointed to the bruise on my right shoulder.
"For one thing, she doesn't beat people."
"How do you know?" Dad asked.
"Just an instinct," I replied sarcasticly, shrugging a clean shirt over my head, and checking my reflection in the grimy mirror over my bed. Dear Lord, do I ever need a haircut...
"Well then, take your 'instinct'-ing ass out of my house and don't come back! But don't you dare touch your baby sister, you hear?" He snapped. "Do whatever the hell you want with your life, you're not my fucking responsibility anymore," Dad snapped, his harsh words receeding to a grumble at the end of his speech.
"Yeah, I hear you, dad," I sighed. But the real question is, was I listening?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Stacie
There's a lot of yelling again. Daddy's yelling at Val, and Val's yelling at Daddy. Doesn't Val remember that when you yell back at Daddy, you get hurt? I don't like it when Val gets hurt, because then he can't tell me the story about the little mermaid. The one mommy told him so long ago...
"I'm going, I'm going," I heard Val grumbling as he thudded out of the house.
Smiling, he poked his head into my room.
"Hey, Littlebit," he asked, using his special nickname just for me. "Wanna go for a walk?"
Yeah! I jumped up, nodding my head, and scooched into my sneakers.
"Oh no, you don't," Daddy growled. I don't like when he does that, it means I'm gonna get hurt.
"Oh yes, he does," came a voice from the door. Mrs. Wilkes!
Val grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door before Daddy had a chance to protest. "Thanks, Mrs. W.," he whispered on the way by.
We were outside now, and it's pretty cold. When I ask Val where we're going, he just says it's somewhere safe. I hope it's Brink's house. I like Brink. When I tell Val as much, though, he looks at me like I'm nuts.
"No," he says. "We're going to live with a girl named Hallie."
"But she's blind!" I cry. I should know. Lara, from school, lives right down the street from the skatepark, and she says that sometimes she sees Hallie walking around her lot with one of those funky blind-people canes.
"No, she's not," Val replies.
"Yes, Lara says she is," I try to explain.
"I don't care what Lara says," Val tells me. "I just ate breakfast with her a few hours ago, and she is definately not blind."
"Did you see her eyes?" I ask. "Lara says you can tell if someone is blind because their eyes don't focus on you."
Val rolls his eyes, and I can tell he's mad at me for mentioning Lara again, but he says nothing.
I thought so.