I Hate You More

Mac n' Cheese

Harlen

"Harls can I have a snack?" My little sister Gianna asked as she walked into my room.

I didn't respond right away. My focus was on the Washburn X-Series guitar that was set in my lap. I love playing. It takes me away from everything. That blessing is sometimes a curse.

"Harls!" Gianna shouted before tapping my shoulder.

"Sorry," I sighed, "and no. I'll make dinner soon."

She and I lived with our monster of a dad, and due to the fact that he was either at work, or beating on us all the time, we were kind of on our own. Well, Gigi wasn't. She had me. I took her to school. I fed her. I made sure she had clothes, and whatever else she might've needed. I didn't mind though. It was important to me to make sure that she could have time to actually be a child. Especially because I didn't.

When I was fifteen, and Gigi was just a baby, our mom died in a car accident. Life up until then was just your basic fairytale bullshit. The only thing that mom and dad loved more than each other were their kids, my dad was my best friend, all that crap. Unfortunately when we got in the accident, it was on our way back from one of my soccer games. Moral of the story, I quit soccer, and my dad quit treating me like a human being. It's not as bad as it used to be though. He used to hit me every time he looked at me. Scream at me and tell me that it's my fault, and that he wished I was in her place. Now he just threw insults my way. The same with Gigi. Unless he got really mad but, we've gotten good at trying to keep that at bay.

"Can we have mac n' cheese?" She asked.

"Gigi, we had mac n' cheese last night," I chuckled, "and the night before that. And the night before that. Why don't we have something else?"

Gianna sent me a set of puppy dog eyes, "Pretty please? You're my favorite sister in the whole world."

I fucking hate it when she does that. It always works. I set my guitar on the stand near by and took her hand, gently pulling her to the kitchen of the apartment we lived in, "Fine, but tomorrow we're having something else."

"Can I help?" She smiled. It kept me going the hope she still had, and the love for life. I prayed that it would never fade for her like it had for me, and for so many others.

"No," I said simply as I a began to make the mac and cheese. I looked to my sister to see a frown on her face, "I'm sorry bugs. We have to go fast so we're out of the way when dad gets home."

She nodded silently. Obviously, she was terrified of him. I mean she was a seven year old girl, and to her, our dad was just a big scary man who took all of his problems out on us. I finished cooking, and we ate while Gigi told me about her friend from school who beat a boy up on the playground because he pulled her hair. Badass, I know. After dinner, I was washing our dishes when I heard the door knob jiggle, signaling that my dad was home and that I had about fifteen seconds to get Gianna, out of sight.

"Go ahead to my room," I told my sister softly as I grabbed her bowl off of the counter, "I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

She followed my instructions, and my bedroom door was shutting by time the front door was opening. I kept my focus on the dish I was scrubbing but, soon enough I felt him next to me.

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing?" He growled.

"The dishes." I responded quietly.

"Yeah," My father scoffed before putting his lips to my ear, "that's all your good for you worthless piece of shit."

I ignored him, and kept my gaze on the sink, prompting him to roughly grab my chin and force my eyes into his, "You will listen to me when I'm talking to you. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head without so much as a blink before he roughly pushed my face in the other direction, causing me to stumble.

He took a look at the gold septum hoop I had in my nose before giving it a flick, "You look like a fucking cow with that in. You know that?"

He then ran his fingers along my left arm, brushing over my unfinished sleeve of tattoos, "and these."

He clicked his tongue before continuing, "Such a fucking slob. Such a disappointment. Do you even have a job?"

I did have a job. I worked at a tattoo parlor about a block away from our apartment. I say 'our' but, even though my father was definitely bringing in money, considering he was part owner of some successful law firm, the only person he ever spent that money on was himself. I paid the rent, I stocked the fridge, I made sure there was  a Christmas, and a birthday for my sister, and I tended to all financial needs. No fucking thanks to him.

I continued my silent treatment as I dried the dishes and put them back where I found them, causing him to scoff, "You fucking piece of shit."

He reached into the fridge and grabbed a can of beer, before making his way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, and sending a jolt through my core. Don't get me wrong, my dad had his fare share of alcoholic beverages but, he was not an alcoholic. Surprisingly enough, his abusive tendencies were more prominent when he was sober. When he was drunk, he just got all sad and mopey and lovey. Ok, maybe I wished my dad was an alcoholic.

"Are you ok?" Gianna asked as I closed my bedroom door behind me.

"I'm perfectly ok," I smiled reassuringly, "come on. It's time for bed."

We got in my bed, and she cuddled up to me. It took me a second to feel her stare, "What?"

"Nothing," She shrugged before rubbing the left side of my jaw, which she was closest to, "you just- have a bruise."

I didn't think he grabbed me that hard. Although, if nothing was broken, I considered it not that bad.

"Alright," I smiled, brushing her off, "go to sleep."

"Can you sing me something?"

I climbed out of bed to grab my guitar to fulfill her request, "What song?"

"hmmm," she went to think, "can you play that one I really like?"

I nodded with a small smile, and played the chords before singing along to the song she had on repeat for the past couple of weeks.

You'll never find all the things you want
Breaking free from the chains that haunt you
They will haunt you
From watergates you the break of dawn
Keep finding the things that turn me on
Turning me on

I was shocked as hell when my seven year old sister had this song on repeat, but it wasn't a bad song. I never go out of my way to listen to it but, I don't have to. Gianna takes care of that. Even when I don't want to listen to it, I do. I continued to sing.

You got to die for something beautiful
Diamonds break our aching minds
Elegance is turning us sober
You'll regret the time

My thoughts faded to the beauty of it. The beauty of being having enough to want to stay around for. Dying for something beautiful seemed so simple. I mean after all, dying seemed like the easy way out, and honestly the path I would take if it weren't for the girls that was now asleep on my shoulder. What was truly beautiful, was having something to live for. I had Gianna, and she was more than enough but, sometimes I wished I had my own reason to live. That I had happiness.

I mean, isn't that the whole point?