Love Me Like You Hate Me (Edited Version)

Chapter 11

As I sat in my room doing my homework, I could hear my dad's voice from downstairs. He was that loud. It sounded like he was arguing with someone from work, whether it was a boss or an employee working under him, I couldn't tell. He just sounded angry. I glanced at my closed door, wishing my room was sound proof. When the shouting only continued, I sighed deeply and stood up, closing my books and walking out of my room. I would never get anything done here.

I went down to the first floor quietly. My dad stood in the living room, shouting desperately into the phone. "This is our last opportunity! We have to have that project done today!" he was saying.

I slipped past while his back was turned and grabbed my jacket, leaving the house silently. I'd come back when he wasn't so loud. The outside world was a lot quieter than an angry father and I embraced the natural sounds that came from walking around outside. The birds chirped in the setting sun, the wind blew the trees softly. I rubbed my arms as I walked and took a deep breath, inhaling a different version of life. Moments like these were when I felt the most comfortable.

After walking for a while, I came to the park. I sat down in one of the swings to sway by myself. The sky was a pink tone and I gazed up at it as I swung in a lazy rhythm. I rested my head against the chain of the swing and closed my eyes. The hum of cars driving past, the whistling of air as it passed through the tree leaves, the clicking of frogs as they hopped through the grass. The sounds eased the headache that had been pulsing in my head for the last hour and I relaxed into a smoother sense of being.

The sun sank below the treetops as the world grew darker, settling shadows amongst the neighborhood landscape. I swung slowly to the beat of nature. I almost wished I could freeze time right then and just stay there for eternity. If life was like this every day then I might be able to cope with the memories better; the darkness lurking beneath the surface. Finally, having gotten rid of my headache and not wanting another from the reminder of past pains, I stood up and started for home. I relived enough of those events in therapy, I didn't need to do it again on my own.

When I reached home, I opened the door to silence, the only sound being the soft voice of the weather lady as she told of predicted rain one day and sunshine another. My dad was sitting on the couch, a slouch in his usual firm posture. I walked over quietly and went past him into the kitchen. "Is everything okay at work?" I asked, trying to remember the list Dr. Tharn had given me. I was pretty sure one of the tasks had been to start a conversation on my own.

My dad sighed, not having realized that I had been gone for almost an hour. "My team is just being difficult. We have stuff to get done and they're complaining that they can't do it because they don't have the training," he said.

I pulled out a pan and started making dinner. My dad stood up and helped me by pulling out ingredients. "How's school been?" he asked, changing the subject.

I shrugged. "The usual. I'm still making A's in all my classes," I said.

My dad smiled, genuinely proud, and gave my shoulder a pat. "That's great. Not many kids can keep that good a grade, you know?"

I gave a false smile and looked back down at the pan to avoid keeping eye contact. "I guess," I said.

I knew my dad was trying to be supportive, but it was hard when a little voice kept telling e it was. Rationally, I knew there was no reason for me to listen to the voice, but most times it was too loud to ignore. Especially when my dad always asked the same questions and always gave the same response to my answers. There wasn't ever anything new, no suggestions or offers to help if I needed it, even if I didn't. How could I argue with a voice that stated lies by using the truth.

I was putting an ingredient into the frying pan when the doorbell rang. I frowned and so did my dad. He was about to say something, but I spoke first. "I'll get it," I said. I hurried over to the door and pulled it open a crack. "Hello?" I said.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a pair of pale, clammy arms wrapped around my neck. "Erik! My baby!" my mother cried happily.

I tensed at her touch and tried to pull away. "M-mom? What are you doing here...?" I asked.

Just then, I felt my father's hand on my shoulder and he pulled me away, pushing me behind him roughly to keep me out of sight. "Get out our house, Amber. You know I can, and will, call the police if I have to," he threatened.

She frowned, but chose to ignore him, turning instead to me. "Erik, I've been trying to get a chance to talk to you. I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover!" She smiled brightly at me, seeming not to notice the timid posture I involuntarily took on when I saw her. "We could make popcorn and watch movies. Just like when you were little! Remember?"

I glanced at my dad who was glaring hard at her. He didn't like this and I knew he was weighing the pros and cons of calling the cops. I didn't like police prowling around. "I-I'm a little tied up with school right now..." I said, hoping to satisfy her.

My mother looked disappointed. "But I drove all the way out here to ask you. You can't even come for one night?" she begged.

My dad blocked me completely this time, pushing me gently into the living room before he took my mother by the arm, roughly. "You need to leave," he said, pushing her towards the door.

She protested greatly. My father had almost gotten her outside when she managed to get away from him and ran past him back into the house so she could take my hand in her's with a stern look. "You know I love you very much. You always have a place in my house," she said.

I blinked at her honest sincerity. "Y-yeah..." I said.

Then my dad pulled her outside and closed the door, shielding me from the harsh words he was bound to say to my mother and the stat she was in. I frowned and hesitated on how I should react to her promise. "A place...?" I wondered.

Her promise was more than I trusted her to uphold and I soon shook the thought from my head. I supported myself by leaning against the couch, exhausted from the few minutes I had been with her. It was hard dealing with my mother. She always spouted nonsense whenever I saw her. She was a very genuine person; and by genuine person, she made a lot of mistakes and she made them because she was too honest sometimes. That tended to be a side effect of ruining your brain with drugs and alcohol.

Her outburst was surprising, but I decided not to dwell much on the situation, my mother's antics having not been much different than the usual. I tidied the living room while my dad was talking to my mom, trying to ignore the muffle swears and shouts as I fluffed couch cushions and cleared off the coffee table for dinner and a movie. I could use a distraction and so could my dad.

When the front door finally opened again and my dad stepped inside, he looked weary. I tried not to look too interested as I asked, "Is everything okay?"

My dad just shook his head, ignoring the set up I had prepared for us. "I've got a lot of work to do," he said. "I'm gonna be in my room for a while. You'll have to eat dinner by yourself."

He dismissed me without another thought and headed into his room, closing the door behind him. I slouched my shoulders and glanced at the front door. At least my mom used to have time for me, I thought to myself. I stood up and walked into the kitchen. The food on the stove, still in the pan, was already cold. I stared at it emotionlessly for a moment, wondering why I had made it in the first place. When I didn't find an answer, I sighed and started cleaning up. I wasn't really hungry anyways.

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