Waste My Time|On Hold

Chapter 1 *⚠*

Present time

Father was on his way back. I knew I was in big trouble. Taking food from the pantry when I don't ask is beyond rude and disrespectful to Father, even if it was for Chase. Chase is my son, about to turn five. Me, I'm about to turn fifteen. Two days before Chase turns five, I turn fifteen. Crazy, I know. Fourteen with a four year old son. Yet, Chase is my everything. He is the only reason I have yet to free myself from this god awful place. Worse than Hell. Worse than the Devil himself. It feels as though the Devil has risen in Father, 'Danger' as I used to call him. Should have been 'Devil'. I mean, his name is 'Diablo'. The direct translation from Spanish is Devil.

"Mama, when Dia coming back?" Chase asks from the old mattress he and I sleep on during the night.

I shrug my shoulders in response. Chase knows my shrugs and facial expresses well enough to know what I mean. I don't talk much. The only times I talk now a days is when father forces me to, and when that happens, it comes out all horse and scratchy. I sometimes talk to Chase, but it's usually a whisper when we're all alone.

"Mama, we leaving again?" Chase asks again.

I look at him with sadness in my eyes. We both knew that we were. Father was caught again. Police officer caught him driving while very high and drunk. As far as I know, we're going back to California. We lived there three years ago, when Chase was convicted, but after a terrible situation, we left and never went back. Chase, father and I have been all around the country. We've lived in New York, Alabama, Texas, Mississippi, Louisiana, North Carolina, South Carolina, North Dakota, Washington, Colorado, Ohio and Vermont. At the moment, we're living in a tiny, run down flat in a not-so-great area of Arizona.

"You little slut! Where are you?" I hear father yell from downstairs.

"I'll be back. Hide." I whisper to Chase in a dry, scratchy voice.

"Okay, Mama. I'll be here when you get back." He said.

"Wait, Mama. I wove you." He says, grabbing my wrist.

"I love you too." I say, kissing him in the forehead.

Running down the creaky steps, I reach Father and his merciless friends.

"Beer then punishment. Got that whore?" Father says, sitting down on the couch with his friends.

"Yes, Sir." I whisper quietly.

Quickly, I race to the kitchen and grab eight ice cold beers; two per person. Walking back quietly, I see Chase sitting at the top of the stairs. Giving him a look, he sulks back up to our room.

"Here, Sir." I say, placing the beers on the table with shaking hands.

He takes one look at me and scoffs, turning back to the show him and his friends are watching. I go to the far corner and stand there with my head down, showing my submission and respect as Father says.

***

"Come here." Father says after about a half hour.

I quickly and quietly scurry over to Father and his friends in front of the old, curved screened television in the living room.

"You remember what you did right?" Father slurs, obviously very drunk after the seven beers he and his friends each had.

"Yes, Sir." I whisper.

"You stole my food. I guess you don't appreciate what you have, huh? When we get to California tomorrow, you and your stupid-ass offspring can fend for yourselves. 'Till then, I'll let the boys have their fun." Father says with an evil grin.

This is not good. Not good at all! HELP!