Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
We wrestled as he tried to hold me still and I tried to escape. I could barely see out of my swollen eyes as he yanked me around by my shirt, but I still jerked and pushed away from him, alternately covering my face and trying to use my body weight to pull out of his control. I heard glass break and the room grew dim when we knocked over a lamp. My hip hit one of my mother’s antique end tables so hard that one of the legs snapped off and the entire thing fell uselessly to the floor.
The strangest thing about the attack wasn’t that my dad had completely lost his mind over a man coming to our front door or that he still had no idea about the even more heinous thing I’d done, but that even as I struggled and shielded myself from his fists I never even attempted to hit him back. I guess sometimes, even when you’re trying to defend yourself, you can’t ignore years of training.
What little vision I had out of my swollen eyes was going spotty and my wrist was bent at an odd angle when my shirt finally ripped and my dad lost his grasp on me. His mistake had been to only hold onto the shirt so he could keep his other fist free. My mistake was not anticipating that the shirt would eventually rip.
I was pulling so hard trying to get away from him that when he lost his grip I went flying, landing hard on my side on the living room rug. I could hear his labored breathing above me and I knew I needed to move, but I was so dizzy that I couldn’t push myself to my feet. Scrambling to get away, I shoved myself forward on my hands and knees while he yelled above me.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape. I knew. But some part of me wouldn’t give up. I don’t know if it was stubbornness or pride or maybe just a sense of self-preservation that urged me forward, inch by inch. I was nearly to the kitchen before the toe of his dress shoe collided with my thigh. The pain was so overwhelming and instantaneous that I couldn’t even draw a breath.
That was when I seriously wondered if he would kill me.
Curling into myself, I protected my head and torso as he kicked me again.
I was so out of it that by the time the blows stopped, I didn’t even realize it until my gran’s voice spoke quietly into my ear.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said, her voice think with emotion. “You’re okay.”
“Gran,” I sighed, trying to open my eyes so I could see her. One of them was completely dark and I panicked, reaching up to make sure it was still there.
“No, no, don’t touch it,” she said gently. “It’s just a little blood running into your eye, baby.”
I painfully pushed myself up so I wasn’t laying on the floor, and that’s when I started to panic. “You have to go,” I told her frantically, reaching for the blurry shape of her. “He’s mad.” I could survive whatever my dad did, but Gran was old. He could really hurt her.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she said calmly, gripping my hand as I tried to push her away. “He’s done.”
That’s when I heard the grunts and thuds coming from somewhere behind her.
“Can you stand up?” she asked. “I’ll help you.”
The thuds and crashing noises didn’t let up as she helped me gingerly to my feet. I swayed, reaching out to her for support, and my ninety pound grandmother took most of my weight and held me upright.
“I’m sorry,” I said, over and over again as she helped me toward the stairs. I tried to explain how dizzy I was but everything came out garbled and weird because of my swollen mouth and cheeks.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Gram told me, helping me to sit on the bottom stair. “You just sit right there and we’ll get you fixed up, right as rain.”
“Don’t leave,” I said anxiously, reaching out to grab ahold of whatever part of her I could reach. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Oh, Vera,” she said, the words coming out choked as she ran her hand gently down my hair. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
“Jesus Christ,” a familiar voice hissed. I looked up in confusion and saw the vague outline of Charlie standing a few steps away. “She alright?”
“She’ll be just fine,” Gran said soothingly, her hand still sweeping gently down my hair.
“Charlie,” I breathed, so grateful he was there that I didn’t even wonder why he was. For a moment, I forgot everything that had come between us. Charlie would make everything okay.
“Damn, baby,” he said, crouching down in front of me. “He did a number on you, huh?”