Badly Burned

2. Painful Goodbyes

A lot of people hate saying goodbye. I'm no different. So many adults tell me that it's not saying goodbye, but more of a see you later. I don't see how this works. There's no guarantee that you will see the person or thing later as many tragedies can happen. But there's one thing I do know. Sometimes goodbyes mean it's gone for good.

~~

I stand in my brothers room, staring at the empty bed, ransacked closet, messy dresser and the desk he had. I used to sit at that desk and watch him play music, dance, even read. My father hated it. He told me I shouldn't waste my time with lowlifes. But he was my brother. I looked up to him, adored him. He was the best person ever and could do no wrong. But he's gone now. Dad said that he left because he hated me and how I followed him around like a puppy. I had believed it when I was 7. Now that I'm 12? Not so much.

I cross my arms over my chest, a dark bruise there from last night. I accidentally knocked over my father's favorite liquor. He beat me for at least an hour. That's what it felt like at least. Closing my eyes I can see my brother and I playing made-up games in the floor, him teaching me to read while he read, we would play make believe. And he's gone.

I open my eyes and tears start to fall down my cheeks. I miss Jake. I miss him tons. Even if almost everyday something was broken, fractured, bruised or bleeding. I did my best to help him get better without our father knowing. Or we would both get it, only he would get worse.

Heavy footsteps sound on the stairs and I panic. Dad was coming. My breaths become strained and I feel like I can't get enough air. My head swirls with so many thoughts of how I was gonna get beat this time, making me terribly dizzy. 'Will he use his fists? That wooden board that broke off the couch? A pan? Is he going to strangle me again?' Tears flow down my face faster and the room starts to spin.

"Melody?" he calls. He sounds oddly sober. Normally he's almost always drunk and slurring his words. "Melody?! C'mon out. I know you're up here somewhere..." Slowly I exit my brother's room, wiping my face so he can't see me crying. I take deep breaths trying to calm my pounding heart and the dread that weighs in my belly like bricks.

"Y-yes sir?" I ask, looking at the floor. Rule 1, don't make eye contact, unless you want to be smacked across the face. Once he slapped me so hard I fell to the floor. I learned my lesson that day. My hands lay against my thighs so he can see that I don't hold anything in them.

Rule 2, don't ever attempt to get revenge. I haven't seen the consequence for that, and I don't ever want to learn. "Look at me." My head snaps up promptly, still avoiding eye contact. Rule 3, when asked to do something, do so quickly, even if in the middle of something. I forgot that rule once and went to the hospital with a broken collarbone. I refused to say anything and the hospital found no evidence of abuse. Luckily. "Why were you in Jake's room?"

"I was just thinking about him. I miss him," I answer truthfully. Somehow he can always tell whenever I lie. Which is rule number four. Never lie to him.

"Mm....what do you miss about him?" I bite my lip. So many things.

"Mainly the way he looked out for me whenever I messed up. Or when we would hang out together." He looks at me then the floor. I can see his eyes shining a little.

"Yeah...I miss him too," dad says softly. "Anyways, dinner's ready. Go eat." I nod and he moves. I walk down the stairs quietly. Which is the fifth and final law of the house. Only because he would drink so much he had monstrous hangovers. So we normally kept the house dark and quiet. When I reach the bottom of the stairs I hear a thud from the top. I turn around and head back up on my hands and knees.

My dad kneels on the floor, his hands clutching the cream colored carpet. It looks like he was crying. I blink, unable to believe that he could feel like that. I probably shouldn't spy on him, unless I wanna go back to the hospital or something. I go back down and head into the kitchen.