Hero hero....

A Run

"Ema dinner!" My mum screams from downstairs.
I close my book, sight and obey. Meals are dreadful because they require mutual conversation to be at least bearable. People talk, they want to be heard, they want to hear something back.
If you don't talk, the clock goes by slower, the seconds stop, joking with your face.
In this house, the meals are even worst because It's the time when I'm forced to co-exist with my disappointment - to say the least - of a father. He's an alcoholic since I remember. He does absolutely shit all day, drowned in licor, but my mother is to naive and hopeless in love to see it, even after all the fights, and violence, and cusses, and broken furniture and overall abusive and disrespectful behaviour towards me, and her. The advices from the doctors about AA meetings and rehab centres were more than many, still, not enough.
sometimes I look at him when I wake up early from school or arrive late from a night walk, I look at the strange man laying on the sofa, completely unconscious and I question myself "what's the point of his life?". He denies any form of help and treatment, never promises - even if it were lies - to do better, never shows remorse, never shows fear of losing me or my mum.
At meals, I glance at him when he's not looking, I see a stranger, a thief that entered my life and stole every hope of a child that wished for a decent father on her mother's whom.

My dog leaks my cheek, reminding me of a meal I'm suppose to head on. Felix is my dog, my room mate, my partner if you may. He is a beautiful Labrador with black fur just like the darkness of the nights without the street lamps and the stars and blue eyes like Safires. We found him , on a trash bin ,when he was just a little baby. He fitted my hand and no more. I cried my parents to adopt him, this was four years ago, and my mother fell in love with him too. My father, looked at the little dog, and then at me.
"You look very similar. Black hair, weird eyes. You can have it. Just don't let him piss and shit around the house."
Four years later, Felix is almost the size of a small wolf and he barks when my father arrives home - from wherever he went off - like he's a strange man invading his home.
I go downstairs and Felix follows me.
My dad is at the table, with a empty bottle of red wine in front of him.
I sit, opposite to him.
"My love, I have prepared your favourite meal." She says. To my father.
"Roasted chicken?" He asks. The smile on my mother's face fades.
"No Anthony. Barbecue ribs..."
The man doesn't even remember his favourite meal, which is in fact barbecue ribs. Barbecue anything to be honest. My father is from Texas but he move to London with my mother by love. A long time ago, when he had feelings at all. My mother is British but did college abroad on the US. She hated it, so she quit college and stole my dad from his cows and horses.
I still don't understand why did she like him that much. I mean, I saw some pictures, he was a good looking lad but he already drink like a sponge.
"Yes yes. My mistake. Thank you Bella."
He says, like she just passed him the salt.
I serve myself and my mother serves my father and then herself.
I start to eat, at a quick pace like usual, to compensate the lack of conversation.
"How was school?" My mother asks.
"Normal. Fine. I had an A on Maths"
"Great work Ema, good for you. Thinking about colleges and courses yet?"
Yes. High school will be over in a few months so I need to prepare my pen to sign on to any College that it's far away fro, here. Every summer I work on a kids summer camp and save all the money and I do some a side works like babysitting to help during the year to save money for college. I've been doing this for the past six years.
"Still thinking about it."
"College, for fuck sake. On my time, we turned 18 and left school for hard work. Real life. And you have a pretty face, someone rich will want you."
My mother smiles, nervous.
I look down, not answering.
"Hey! You look to me while I talk!" He punches the table. "Your father is talking to you, so show some respect you stupid brat"
I look up, emotionless.
"Oh Ema can you do me a favour and pick some things from the grocery please?"
This is the cue to leave. Hiding on my bedroom is not useful since I turned into a teenager. He knocked the door down a few times a brakes dishes and bottles until he thinks he proved a point. Now, my mother has this excuses to prevent him from destroying the all house. I'll leave. Out of sight and he being completely acknowledged that I'm no longer on the house, is sufficient to calm the nerves. I don't really mind, even when it's pouring raining and freezing outside - which is common in London - it's Better than have to deal with him.
I get up to my room.
I do this lots of times from a long time now so I do it as quick as a firefighter puts it's costume on, ready to leave on the ambulance. Felix follows me to the room and watches my fifteen second routine. I take the pants out, put the leggings on. Take the robe, put the sweatshirt. Put the shoes on and the bracelet with the iPhone case on the arm with the earplugs on. Grab the waist bag and put inside the house keys and the smallest size book I have.
15 seconds.
"Want to go out?" I ask Felix. He jumps to my bed and cuddles on himself agains my pillow. "Got it. Lazy mood today. I'll be back soon." I put a blanket covering him and stroke his soft black fur.