Chapter Nine
The rest of the day flew by much to Lorna's dismay. She loathed the thought of going home just to deal with her father's wrath. Yet, she knew she had no other choice, so she grabbed her bookbag from her locker and started on the path towards the school entrance. She was so heavily enthralled in her mind that she hadn't noticed anyone walking beside her until she heard a voice call out to her.
Nicky placed a comforting hand over on her shoulder to get her attention; she looked at her with soft brown eyes. "You walk really fast, ya know that kid? I'm outta breath just tryna catch up to ya," she informed her with a friendly chuckle.
Lorna finally stopped and turned her attention onto the redhead beside her. She put on a smile, even though on the inside she couldn't stop the anxiety from building up. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were following me," was her sheepish response. Inwardly, she sighed and wished she had time to chat with her new friend. Wished she could spare a minute of her time with someone who brought so much joy and fun but knew if she returned home even a second late, her father would find a way to make her regret it.
"I thought I'd see if ya wanna hang out this afternoon, yeah? We could do that stupid math assignment together even though I hate math—I'm tryna to not fail for once."
The brunette felt her heart slightly flutter at the inquiry. Oh, how she longed to agree to that. How she wanted nothing more than to hang out with her friend and enjoy a fun evening. But that just wasn't in the cards for her, she swallowed uncomfortably. The repercussions such a choice would have was enough for her to not give in. She reached over and gave a friendly pat to the taller girl's shoulder before shaking her head sadly.
"I really wish I could, Nicky, but I gotta get home so I can help my dad. Maybe another time?" She suggested even though the chances of her ever being allowed to spend time with anyone outside of the house was slim to none. Her optimistic nature still had her hopeful that there would be another time.
Nicky didn't completely buy the other's excuse; she could sense there was more to her words, but she only smiled and nodded. "Another time, kid, yes. I'll see ya tomorrow."
The walk home was treacherous with almost a foot of snow, but it didn't bother Lorna. It gave her time to think—to prepare for what she could possibly walk into when she opened the door of her house. She slowly made her way up the stairs of the porch and reached for the knob to turn so that the door would open. At least there was no obvious sounds of yelling or sight of things being thrown about. She carefully entered inside and shut the door behind her.
"Stansie, is that you?"
Hearing her father say that immediately had Lorna's eyebrows furrowing above her eyes. She gradually walked in the direction of where it seemed Mr. Morello's voice was coming from. When she caught sight of him half-naked on the side of his bed in the master bedroom surrounded by a pile of empty beer bottles, she felt a wave of nausea come over her. She shielded her eyes but tapped quietly on the frame of the door.
"It-it's me dad, me Lorna. I'm home from school. Mom's not here anymore," she muttered, her voice nearly shaking from fear. She wasn't sure what was going on with her father but from the sight, it couldn't be anything good.
"Shut up, Lorna, I know your mother's not here. She's dead. And now I'm fucking stuck with you. What the hell good is a little fourteen-year-old girl gonna do me, huh?"
Dead. That word didn't sit well with her, she felt uncomfortable hearing it and shook her head. No, she told herself, her mom wasn't dead—she was just away on business. For an undisclosed length of time. She backed away slightly, her anxiety flaring up by the second. How drunk was her father? By the look in his eyes, he was definitely plastered. And that, she knew, was never a good sign.
She backed away another few steps, trying to get away from the terrible wrench of alcohol that seemed to seep from her father's bedroom. Oh, God, was it awful. It made her stomach even queasier. "I, uh, I gotta go do my homework," she mumbled turning to run upstairs.
Mr. Morello shook his head and took a rough grab of her arm, pulling her back. "I don't care what kinda homework ya have to do, you have chores you need to do first," he spat, his alcohol reeked breath pouring out with each word.
"What chores? I already cleaned the kitchen before I left this morning," she pointed out with a shaky voice. Her dad's grip made her uncomfortable and uneasy. He'd acted weird before, but this was something completely different. She wasn't sure how this was going to end.
He chuckled, pulling her back to his bedroom. "I'm not talkin' bout those chores, Lorna, I'm talkin' bout my bedroom chores." The look in his eyes was a darkness she never thought possible.
She felt everything in her tense as she began to realize what his intentions were. There was an intense amount of fear within her, but she pushed it aside and used the small amount of strength she had left to push herself out of her father's grasp and ran out of the room, up the stairs to her own room. She locked the door and dragged her tall dresser over in front of the door.
Her legs were numb, almost noodle-like beneath her, but she was able to use them to get herself into her closet. She crouched down on the floor and shut the door. It took everything she had to not break then and there. That man down there—that wasn't the father she remembered. The father she loved and adored as a young tike. The father who would make mickey mouse pancakes on the weekends and take her to the doctor when she fell from a tree. That man down there was a stranger to her. He was full of hatred and evil now, she sadly realized.
She sat there in a crouched position for what seemed like decades but when she flipped open her phone, it showed that she only sat there for ten minutes. Her legs finally stopped trembling and her fingers instinctively dialed the number that belonged to her sister; she put the phone up to her ear and waited through the rings for the other line to finally pick up.
"Yeah, Lorna, what's up?" Franny's voice sounded through the other side of the phone, her toddler son screaming in the background. "I need to get Marco bathed before he breaks all the damn windows with his yelling."
"I, uh, I—Franny?" The petite brunette mumbled, not wanting her voice to be too loud. She fixated her eyes on the pattern of the closet door before her.
Even though her son's tantrum was causing frustration to overpower her, the faint sound of trepidation in Lorna's voice quickly wiped away the irritation. She sighed, reaching for her mug of tea that sat on the end table and took a sip. "Everything okay, Lorn?"
"I want to move outta this house, Fran. I don't know how much more I can take it here," the brunette pleaded. Every word she spoke was true; she couldn't handle living under the same roof as her father for much longer. She had no idea what that man could be capable of those days, especially with the amount of alcohol he seemed to drown himself in. The more alcohol he consumed, the more bizarre the behavior he exhibited.
Franny sensed the building anxiety in the other's tone and grew worried. She put the squirmy toddler down and focused all of her attention on her sister. "What's going on? Are you okay? You know I want nothing more than to have you move in with me," she informed her, eyes full of sorrow and frustration at the situation. She hated that the younger girl was stuck living with their abusive father and all she could do was sit back and watch.
Lorna swallowed thickly. She traced her finger around the wooden pattern on the door in front of her. She huffed out an exasperated breath. "Why can't I just come live with ya? Please? I just I need outta here. Dad's always drunk and, and, it-it scares me, Franny."
"Dad's your legal guardian, you're only fifteen…that would be considered running away and we could get into legal trouble. Believe me, Lorn, I don't want ya in that house with him either, I just don't know what to do. Did he do something to ya?"
"He was half naked and drunk and I ran up to my room because I don't know what he was gonna do. I-I'm scared of him. All he does is drink and he's always so angry," Lorna pointed out. She shuttered at the memory. The nausea began to intensify once more at the thought of what may have happened had she not frisked her way up to her room.
Franny gulped. Hearing that caused an uneasy sensation to form over her. She placed a hand on her forehead, rubbing her temples. She couldn't imagine what their father was planning to do her younger sister. "Oh, Lorna," she whispered, feeling her heart aching for the poor naïve teenager. "I'll come get ya from school tomorrow and you'll spend the weekend with Marco and me. I'll figure out what to do about dad later."
Entering the school building the next morning came as a relief to Lorna. Most people would rather stay home and slack off, but school gave her the much-needed time away from her drunken father. She could finally breathe without feeling as though she was suffocating. She felt the walls finally moving apart when she walked inside the school towards her locker. A place that she could focus her mind elsewhere, even if it was for just a few hours each day. The relief she felt was an anomaly she couldn't fully explain.
It only took a matter of minutes for she to reach her locker. She grabbed her morning books from within before shutting the door. When she turned around to start heading to her first class, her eyes were caught off guard when they landed on Annalisa standing right in front of her. She felt a lump in her throat, her legs shifted in their positions.
"What's crazy Lorna doing with her books? Heading to class, are ya?"
The other's voice brought a shiver to her spine. Lorna inhaled deeply and tried to figure out how to get past her without any further issues. She didn't have time or energy to deal with a bully. "Yeah, please just leave me alone. I just wanna get to class so I can sit and read my book," was her silent plea.
Annalisa snickered, not budging an inch. She reached her hands across to snatch the book on the top of the pile and read the title of it with a snarky smirk on her face. "Cancer? The hell's with you and cancer? You're obsessed with cancer, crazy Lorna," she teased ruthlessly, holding the book up in front of the shorter girl as if to taunt her.
"Please just give me my book," the brunette muttered, her face red with embarrassment. She bowed her head slightly, not wanting to see if anyone around them was watching. Nothing could ever just go smoothly for her. She sighed. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her; dealing with a-not-so pleasant father at home and Annalisa at school was certainly having a negative tole on her.
"Aw, ya want this book back?" The blonde retorted. "Here," she stated, lifting the book up over her head and tossing it as far as she could. A chortle escaped her as she saw it land halfway down the hall. "Go get it, miss I love cancer!" She pushed Lorna roughly as if to give her a head-start towards the direction of the book she threw.
