Desperate for you

Chapter 17

Dylan POV
For most people, thanksgiving is that day, when everything is perfect, celebrated with family and eating awesome dinners prepared by mama.

Unfortunately, I have no mum to celebrate with, mum number two never got the chance to show me what a wonderful thanksgiving was like in a sane family.

My family has never been one to be normal. When you have a dad who always comes back from home being drunk, practically every night, abusing you, hitting your mum and took away everything you value and consider you useless.

Today, despite being thanksgiving doesn’t stop my dad from being abusive towards me. Everything has been the same ever since mum number two died.

Him, waking me up by pouring ice cold water on me… every morning, throwing tools at me to do some certain chores as if I am his servant…

Today was no different, every holiday is always worse than the previous one.

“Hey, kid,” my dad said pouring the ice cold water on me, and as usual with a stick of cigarette in between his lips. I wonder if he is drunk at certain times when he does these things to me, or he just does it out of hatred.

“Get your filthy, lazy ass off that bed and get to the farm. You have work waiting for you,” he said in a harsh manner throwing gloves at me and a spade on the floor. He left the room and I sighed. I get into the shower and have a bath…

My baths are never refreshing.

Moving on…

After the two hour farm work, I meet my dad drinking beer as usual and burps… unfortunately I was close and it reeked.

“I’m tired dad,” I said with a sigh. He just looked at me like I had 15 heads.

“What did you say boy?” he asked putting his beer down.

“I said I’m tired.” Mustering all the courage I had, I move closer towards him.

“I’m sick and tired of everything you are doing to me. I’m tired of all these crap, the bullshit you call work. I’m 18 for crying out loud, this is called physical harassment and… I want to move out.”

That just got me a punch on the face… he was aiming for the nose.

Luckily, it wasn’t a kick in the groin like he did when he found out about my birthday party that I hosted in the house while he was out… gambling and street fighting. The man is messed up.

I held the spot where he punched me and stood me ground. “I want to move out dad. I’m tired of living in this hell hole with the devil himself,” I said through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched. He pulled me roughly and pressed my arm with his nails.

“You’ve grown some balls kid. Want me to kick them again? Listen to me… you are not moving out. You are going to stay here, with me. You are going nowhere you hear me? NOWHERE!!” he yelled and left.

I couldn’t hold it any longer, so I sat there and cried. I cried because I can’t keep it within me any longer, cried because this is my biological father who is supposed to be playing football with me and teaching me certain techniques, telling me that I’m a chip of the old block and despite the fact that my mum is gone, he is here for me.

But instead, I have the devil reincarnate, living under the same roof. An abusive man, a gambler, a drunk… someone that words can’t even describe. I’ve kept calm for too long, I’ve kept quiet and hidden the truth from everyone…

Except Nicholas, Jacob and Ray.

At night, I find an old travel bag from the basement and pack most of my stuff inside. I steal some of his gambled money and stuff into my pocket. I take my phone and my bag for school. I tip-toe downstairs and head for the front door. I didn’t bother leaving a note for that devil-of-a-father.