Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
My stomach twisted. “Daddy?”
Quick, he checked over his shoulder. “Get on out of here, Max!”
I opened the door wider. “But—”
“Go on now.” He jumped off the bed and lifted his pants, hurrying to close it.
Staring up at the ceiling, Em cried and began hitting her face over and over. Blood dripped from her nose and she kept on punching herself, kept on slamming her tiny fists into her nose.
"No. Don't do that!" I tried to run to her.
"You can't just come in here, son." Dad grabbed and picked me up. "Don't worry about her."
Blood dotted the pillow. It was in that moment that I noticed her pants were yanked down and her pink cotton panties too. I turned away before I could see anything else. "D-dad?
"It's okay, boy." He carried me out of the room. "Don't worry about it. I'm giving her what she needs."
My body shook. “W-what’s wrong. . .with her?”
“I don’t know, son.” Dad had me out of his bedroom fast. “She’s having one of those fits again. Get on back to the TV.”
Terror vibrated down to my bones and I couldn't point to why or explain I just was so scared and confused.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. "Go over there, son."
I shivered. “B-but why is your shirt off?”
“Come on now.” He pushed me forward. “Your show is on and you barely get to watch the TV.”
"I-I don't want to watch anymore." I leaned to the side and glanced in the open door.
Em was still hurting herself, hitting and punching, slapping and scratching. Tears spilled from her eyes.
"It's just one of her fits." Dad shut the door behind him. “Go on and sit right here. I’ll be out.”
“I-is she going to be okay?”
“She will be in a minute.” Fast, he grabbed my school notebook and pen off the table. “Sit down at the TV and make me those cool drawings you always do. Soon as you're done, we'll be right out.”
Shivering, I took the notebook and pen. My fingers shook, but I couldn’t tell you why. A feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach, and I had the distinct feeling that something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.
Darkness rose in my chest. It was a physical weight pressing down on my heart.
“Get him, Goku!” Daryl was now up in front of the TV doing martial arts.
“That’s right, Daryl.” Dad laughed and shoved me that way. “Daryl has got the right idea. Go on now.”
"Dad. . .don't go back. . .don't. . ."
“Draw me some people, Max.” Daddy headed back to the bedroom. “I’ll be out after you draw five people.”
Still trembling, I opened the notebook. “What do you want them to look like, Daddy?”
“I don’t know, son. Just make sure they’re smiling. Put big smiles on those faces. Then, everything will be alright.”
“Okay, D-Daddy.”
The door slammed.
And I drew, knowing that this would save the day. If I could just draw enough smiling faces then Daddy would be out of that bedroom and Em would be okay. I didn’t know what was wrong with her, but I hoped Daddy would figure it out.
He was good at fixing things.
I drew and drew and drew. Smiling faces filled pages and pages. My eyes watered and I did my best to hold them in. And the darkness rose inside of me. And my soul grew empty.
I no longer looked at the TV.
Daryl continued to do jumps and kicks in the living room, and I just drew smiling faces.
When Daddy and Em finally came out, I rushed over to show my dad. “Look!”
“Oh, man!” He had his shirt back on. He lowered and hugged me. “My son can draw. Those are some big smiles.”
“Look at this one too.” I flipped the page.
“Oh my God!! I’ve got an artist. Emily, come over here and look at what Max drew.”
Em went to the door and stood by it. There was no blood on her face, but I could see a few scratch marks on her cheeks. She held a bag of strawberry candy in her hand and hugged herself.
“Come on, Emily.” Daddy smiled. “Remember what I said. You got to be a nice girl or you know what will happen.”
Em pursed her lips and tightened her grip on the candy.
"Strawberry!" Daryl hurried over. “I want some.”
Em said nothing.
“Give me some of that candy.” Daryl tried to grab it.
Em moved it out of his reach.
Daryl glared. “You don’t ever share.”
For some reason, Em slapped him.
Daryl touched his face. “I’m telling!"
She slapped him again.
Daryl cried. "I’m telling! I'm telling!”
The front door opened. Em’s dad walked in. “What are you telling, boy? I can hear your ass from down the hall.”
Fast, Em slipped away.
Daryl dropped to the floor and sobbed. “She slapped me for no reason! I didn't do anything to her!”
Em's dad looked at mine. “I see they were a lot today.”