Me & You

Chapter 2

Elliot Carter.

The name of the mysterious man who offered to drive me home last night kept ringing through my head as I tossed and turned all through the night into the early hours of the morning. I could swear I knew the name from somewhere, but I couldn't place my finger on where.

I heard a loud slam that came from downstairs, followed by loud footsteps and the shattering of glass. I jolted out of bed going to see what the commotion was downstairs, but no doubt, it was my father. The loud footsteps suddenly seemed to halt right before the stairs. "Where the fuck are you, you little bitch." I heard the unmistakable voice of my father shouting for what I only hoped wasn't me, but luck doesn't seem to be on my side. I'm the only other person who lives in this house.

The loud bellowing of his voice cried out to me again, "For fucks sake, you better get your ass down here and make me some coffee. Maybe you can make yourself useful for something." I slowly made my way down the stairs to the man awaiting me at the bottom. He gave me a hard look that screamed at me to cut the bullshit. 

As soon as my feet touched the floor in front of him, the hair in the back of my head was roughly grasped and I was pulled towards the kitchen. When we got there, I was shoved roughly away from my abusive father's hands and he roughly sat down on the chair. For the first time this morning I got a good look at him, and all the hope I had for him coming home a changed man was gone.  I don't know why everyday I got my hopes up that he'd suddenly become the loving and sober father he once was.

The red rings in his eyes reminded me just how much I was mistaken. The stench of alcohol coming off his breath gave me a harsh reality check. This guy wasn't my dad, he was just a sperm donor. Some guy who's house I happened to have a room in. He lost every right to be called my dad when he first raised his hand to me seven years ago. The once sober and controlled man I called my father was long gone. 

With his head against the table he mumbled, "Where's your money from last night? I know you worked and if you're holding anything back, I'll kill you bitch." The sad part about his statement was that he was completely speaking the truth. No doubt in my mind led me to believe this man wasn't capable of killing me. In fact, I feared he was capable of doing so much worse.

As I silently threw the bundle of cash his way, he quickly picked it up and counted it. "This is it? That's all you got? There has to be more somewhere." his voice got louder and louder until he continued to scream, "WHERE IS THE REST OF THE FUCKING MONEY EMMALINE?" I stilled in front of the dirty and worn out stove that barely worked. Fearing what I would see when I turned around I softy whispered, "That's it. That's all the money I have. I s-swear.",  I stuttered my last line with undeniable fear. 

He knew I was lying. Slowly he waltzed towards me clicking his tongue, "Uh, uh, uh Emmaline. You now better than to lie to me." his voice was oddly calm. His body slowly moving towards me. Suddenly my head jerked to the side and my body dropped to the floor as a sharp stinging pain made its way to my cheek as I let out a strangled gasp. Left behind laid a harsh red blotch the shape of his hand. 

The dangerous man in front of me crouched down to my level and stared right into my eyes. "You have one more fucking shot before I fucking kill you myself. Where is the fucking money?" As we stared into each others eyes I felt helpless. I remained silent not knowing what else to say to this man. He tilted his head, like a dog trying to understand what I just said. "Fine if you're not going to tell me, I'm just going to have to find it myself." he suddenly stood up and turned around storming out of the room.

I let out a sigh of relief all too soon when seconds later he came barreling back into the room with a vengeance. You could see the pure hatred in his eyes as he looked at me. From behind his back, out came a vase. I recognized it. It used to belong to my mother, it was her favorite vase. The tears I had been struggling to hold back came on full force as I realized what was going to happen. Holding the vase above his head, it came swinging down towards my head and then everything went black.