Living in Cavetown

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT 

*Chapter inspired by the song Cut My Hair by Cavetown* 

((Often I am upset. That I cannot fall in love. But I guess. This avoids the stress of falling out of it))

What's next? 

Three days after being relased from the hosptial I have to return to the H*ll that I call home. Without Jamie. Even though Jamie had done all of those horrible things to me, at least he helped with the problem that is our home and our father. The police said that Jamie would be held in county jail and in a few weeks he'll have a hearing to see how long he will have to stay there or be transfered to the state prison. 

   A police officer had to drive me home from the hospital because the Brance brothers are stuck in questioning and aren't allowed to talk to me incase our stories get switched when we see one another. No matter how much the brothers or Ms.Brance begged for me to go to their house, the police refused to take me anywhere but home. 

   The officer that drove me home informed me that they contacted my dad that they would be giving me a ride home and expect me at the estimated time I was dropped off. The whole way home my stomach was in nervous knots and I felt like I might puke. I actually sat in the car and starred at my home for a bit before getting out. 

The second I walk into the front door, my dad pulls me inside and looks out the window to watch the police car drive away. After he is sure that the police aren't near our house, he slams me against the wall and breathes me in. I almost gag on the smell coming off of him. He has been drinking and from the smell of it, for days without end or a shower. 

   HE brings his knee up into my already sore stomach and pulls my hair. I cry from the pain of Jamie already causing the open wounds on my head and him pulling the sensitive scalp. He smirks and gets close to my face. "The police say that your brother was arrested for sexual assualt and statuatory rape of a minor, along with incest of a close family member. The younger one even mentioned some possible drug charges from some test results they got the thrid time they called. Looks like it's just you and me, little girl," he says with a sick glimor in his eye. I sob silenty and he laughs manically. 

   "You know, your brother really did get i our way quite often. And to think, this whole time it wasn't to protect you from me, but so he could have you all to himself. So selfish of him. Don't you worry, whore. I'll make sure to make up for the lost time he's caused over the years," I sob loudly and he looks at me funny. "Since when are you loud, slut?" he spits in my face. I cringe back and almost instantly regret it. 

   He punches my stomach multiple times and digs his thumb into my injured shoulder. I scream in pain and it just seems to fuel the fire of his rage. He brings my head down and connects his knee to my nose. All I see is red. Blood. I laugh and whipe it up before falling against the wall. 

   "For a sick twisted person, your tactics for kicking my A*s sure does almost always seem the same. It's boring after all these years," I laugh dryly. He looks taken aback and shocked. 

   "You-you can talk?" his eyes go big and his mouth agape. 

   "Yeah. You're almost as shocked as Jamie was. You know, he reminds me a lot of you. A coward that could never finish the job. Keep hurting me over and over again to get your sick fun out of it, but you never kill me. Would it be too much trouble to get rid of my body, or would," I cough a few times and spit blood on the floor next to me, "Or would you get too bored without your walking punching bag only down the hall?" I say dryly. He looks at me in disgust. 

    "What your brother put you through will feel like walking on clouds compared to me, skank. I can promise that," he seeths. I laugh. 

   "I'm well aware. Because, unlike you, somewhere in his f*cked mind he actually does love me. In his own twisted way. I guess it's the only way he knows how to with a father like you as our example in life. Don't get me wrong, I hate him for what he's done to me, but it will never be as bad as what you've done to me over the years," I spit out more blood and whipe away the drips of it off with the end of my long sleeved shirt. He looks down at me in confusion. 

   "You look so much like your mother, but you act so much like me. You no longer gain my interest. It's creepy to think about having s*x with yourself," he shudders and kicks my side once more. "Doesn't mean I will stop beating you for all the pain you've caused me by being a little whore and taking your mother away from me," he snarls. I grin up at him. 

   "I look like an angel that you wish to mutilate, but you're mad because no matter how hard you try, when it's all said and done- I can clean up and go right back to looking like her. I get to live on and grieve without her daily reminders because I barely remember her, but you," I chuckle without humor behind it. "You get to see the face that you drove away from you with your drinking problem and need to abuse those who only want your love- every. Single. Day. Right down the hall," I look up to see a single tear go down the face of the man who has tourtured and rapped me for almost all of my life and almost feel proud. 

   "You talk like you understand, little B*tch, but you have no idea. My pain is nothing I could ever make you feel by beating you. But, by beating you it helps me feel better," he crouches down next to me and whispers in my ear. "I keep you alive because beating you is the only way you'll ever even feel the smallest amount of what I lost because of you." 

   The next thing I know all I see is a fist going towards my face. Feeling pain, and seeing darkness.