I smiled at myself in the mirror, fluffing my bangs and reapplying a tad more lip gloss before getting out of her car. I grabbed my dance bag and flipped my hair, trying to make myself look presentable before going inside.
"Mom! I'm home!" I yelled as I walked into the house, kicking off my shoes and throwing my dance bag on the couch.
"You're late." Mom walked into the kitchen, an apron tied around her.
"Solo gets out at 8." I stated, rolling my eyes.
"And it takes 10 minutes to get home, yet somehow it's 8:30?"
"Yep, she had me stay and help for the last 15 minutes of Kaitlynn's tumbling private, she likes me spotting her aerials." Not exactly true, Kaitlynn had a private tumbling class at 6, but I hadn't helped her with it.
"Start coming home on time." Was all she said as she walked back into the kitchen.
Just then my 2 year old half-sister, Maddie, toddled into the room. "Hey pretty girl!" I said, a wide smile spreading across my face as I picked her up.
"WHAT THE HELL KINSLEY?" Right on time. I turned around, looking my step-dad in the face.
"What happened?" I smiled, playing innocent.
"You know exactly what fucking happened. You were supposed to be here at 5 to help with the kids. You know I can't pull your mom out of her work to have her watch her own idiot kids, so why can't you just help me out?"
Jack had told me I was watching Maddie and Caleb (my 6 year old biological brother) while he bid houses today and so I told him I had dance. To which he responded by telling me to figure it out, which I did, I just didn't do it.
"Okay, first off, Maddie is yours too. And second, I never said I would watch them."
"Now you're lying to me too. Get that stupid kid out of here." He looked at Maddie.
"Hey Maddie?" I smiled at her, putting her down. "I think Mommy needs help in the kitchen."
"Okay!" Maddie tottled off, completely oblivious to the fact that her dad was screaming in my face.
I turned around and looked at Jack, arms crossed. "What?"
"You've gotta start taking some fucking responsibility in this house." He yelled at me, stepping closer.
"Whatever" I rolled my eyes, starting to walk away.
Jack grabbed my arm in a death grip, pulling me close to him and putting his face up close to my ear. "Don't you ever motherfucking walk away from me, you hear me you little shit?" he muttered under his breath. "Y-yes" I stammered, bracing myself for the worst. He shoved me away from him into the table behind me. I whimpered as it hit my lower back, knowing it had broke skin. "Ow." I couldn't keep myself from muttering.
"What was that?" His voice boomed.
"N-Nothing." I stammered, getting up.
In one swift movement that I hadn't seen coming, his fist connected with my stomach, making me cough and bend over in pain. Looking me straight in the face he goes "I hope that hurt" before stalking out of the room.
I sat in that position for a few minutes before I got the strength to go upstairs to my room, slowly but I got there, checking out the damage in the mirror.
My dad died 5 years ago, he was very drunk and he shouldn't have been driving. He drove out in the intersection at a red light. Jack was the passenger in the car that killed my dad. His first wife, Allie, was driving. She was also killed. My mom and Jack met for coffee one day to talk about what they were going to do and to exchange information, you know, all the formal stuff, and apparently sparks flew.
Jack hasn't always hit me, it just started about a year ago, a few months after he and my mom got married. He got really mad at me late one night when I got in from a party, he was claiming I was drunk even though I had only had less than half a beer. That was the first time he had slapped me across the face, calling me immature and cursing the choices I had made. There have only been a few bad ones since then, but recently he's been doing it more and more frequently over stupider things. I decided as long as he hasn't hit my mom or my younger siblings, I could put up with it for a few more years, then I wouldn't haven to put up with it when I move out for college.
I just hope for Caleb's sake, and eventually Maddie's, that he would get straightened out before then...
From the looks of it in the mirror, my back would be a sure bruise, but my stomach was going to be the worse one to try to cover up. It wouldn't be a huge deal but I had to wear a sports bra at dance, and I could already tell dance was going to hurt for the next few days...
I went into my connected bathroom and took a shower, washing the blood off my back and using steaming water to relax all my muscles. Then went to work using antiobiotic gel and bandages on my back, wrapping it up and making sure everything was covered. Then rubbed icy hot on my stomach, hoping to speed up the healing process.
I threw on a teeshirt that was my dad's, even though it was huge on me, and a pair of cheeta print hotshorts from an old dance I did. I decided to opt out of dinner tonight, crawling under my comforter, turning an alarm on my phone, and flipping on the tv as I fell asleep to my favorite show.
