Part 2 (1/2)

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I waited for something. I grew afraid because I didn't know what was going on out there. What was he saying to her that I couldn't hear? I suddenly wanted to go home. I wanted to get away from the hospital. I couldn't spend another day in this place. I knew that if Dr. Cuvo was explaining things to my mom about what I'd done the other day when we had first met, she would get angrier and more stressed out because of me. She had already seen what I had done, or what I had tried to do, at home.

I had always been a problem for Mom. I didn't do these things on purpose. I didn't want to be labeled as her ”troubled child,” because I knew that she had a lot on her plate.

I hadn't made things any better for her when her life had taken a wide turn. Jack had seemed to change overnight after the twins had been born, and that's when things had gotten worse for her. She'd suffered from postpartum depression.

We'd been a happy family for a little while after the twins had grown older. Mom had started taking anti-depressant medication. She'd asked me to help her out with Nick and Alison. I'd had no problem helping with the twins. I'd adored being their big sister.

That was how I'd fallen in love with Nicholas. I'd reached for Nick first when I'd first seen the pair. He was my favorite. Nick and I were always doing things together. Mom and Alison spent most of their time together, playing in the garden or doing girly things in the kitchen. Nick and I were more adventurous. We played sports and hunted for treasure in our backyard.

Dad still played the role of Knight in s.h.i.+ning Armor. He provided for us financially and he kept Mom happy. He did work a lot. Mom always needed someone to lean on. Dad was her strong arm because he was always there when she needed him.

We were happy those first few years of our lives together as a family. It didn't last very long. It was around the fifth year that life began to change dramatically. Things started going on behind closed doors. There were many arguments between Mom and Dad. This change in our family started slowly around the time the twins were first born and when Mom was diagnosed with postpartum depression. Then the dramatic change crept up into one big mess all at one time.

The big moment was when Dad lost his job at Ford. Money problems began to arise, and Mom had to get a job. I was home with the twins after we got out of school. I had to help in a bigger way, and I did not like that very much. I gave Mom a hard time whenever she asked me to do things like make dinner for the kids and clean up behind them. It seemed like I was being asked to be their mother since she had to work. Mom resented me for my behavior, and she made it known to me by telling me how selfish I was.

Dad worked odd jobs. He had quit the stable jobs he managed to land. He compared those jobs to Ford, saying that the new jobs weren't paying as much as he would have been making if he had still been at Ford. Often times, he and Mom didn't sleep in the same bed because of how angry they would get at each other. Dad didn't seem to care. His head was somewhere else. It bothered me. Dad and I always talked. If I had something on my mind, I went to him and we discussed it. He didn't hold back from me, and I loved him for that.

I remembered the last time it was like that for him and me. It was the last time I remember him being my dad, and our Knight in s.h.i.+ning Armor. I went to him while he was lying on the sofa. Mom had already gone to bed. The twins were asleep.

”Dad?” I called out to him.

He looked up at me. He looked as if he did not know who I was. There was no smile, no expression, on his face. I stood, frozen. I did not recognize him.

”Daddy, are you okay?” I asked him, still standing there.

He stood up, looking larger than ever.

”What do you want, Kristen?” he asked.

He walked towards the kitchen, and I followed behind.

”Daddy? You and Mom aren't sleeping in the same room anymore. Are you mad at each other?”

”No,” Dad said with a warm smile. ”Mommy and I just have to take a time out for a little bit. It will be okay.”

”I'm scared.”

We stood in the kitchen. He had started pouring a gla.s.s of Jim Beam for himself. He took a sip, stared down at me and said, ”There's no need to be scared.”

His eyes were gla.s.sy. They looked sad.

He sat the empty gla.s.s down on the kitchen counter and bent down to my level. He put his arms around me and hugged me gently. Even though he stank of alcohol, I still wrapped my arms around him, closing my eyes and letting myself take in his comfort.

”It will be all right, Kristen...It will be all right...”

What was this pressure? I started to feel his grip on me tighten. He was squeezing me. It started to hurt.

”It will be all right... all right...”

”No, Dad, that hurts. Please, Dad, stop.” I started to cry.

He was hurting me. I had no idea what he was doing. It hurt too much. It was too hard to make a sound, because I could barely breathe. He lifted me up off the floor in his tight grip, and he stared into my eyes. My eyes were wide open as I tried to gasp for air. It felt like he was going to crush me. I cried, afraid.

”It's going to be all right...all right...” He kept repeating this over and over.

Tears fell from my eyes. Dad leaned in and pressed his lips against my open mouth. He was breathing heavily. He kept kissing me, but his kisses were different. It wasn't like the time he'd kissed me at his and Mom's wedding. This was like a monster trying to devour a child whose closet it had been hiding in. The monster came out. Before I realized what he was trying to do, I heard Mom's frantic voice.

”Kristen!” she shouted at me.

The monster dropped me to the floor. It felt like a long way down. My hip landed on the hard wood.

”What is going on here?” Mom had a look on her face that scared me.

”Kristen! Now, I told you to have this kitchen cleaned up!” the monster shouted.

Mom looked at him. Then she looked down at me. The monster walked over to my mother and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened at his touch.

”What the h.e.l.l were you doing to my daughter?” she asked him.

The monster leaned into her and began talking to her. He was talking so low that I couldn't hear anything he was saying. It must have been convincing enough for her because, by the time he was finished, she was already like putty in his hands. She wrapped her arms around him and they hugged.

”I'll be to bed in just a minute. Let me finish up here with her,” the monster told Mom.

Mom looked back at me and hesitated turning away. The monster kissed her cheek and a.s.sured her that everything was fine. He shooed her away gently and watched her disappear down the hall.

When I heard their bedroom door shut, I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what was coming next from this monster whom I had never seen before.

He approached me and said, ”Kristen, I have to do this.”

”Do what, Dad? What are you talking about?”

”I told your mother that you hadn't done your ch.o.r.es like you were supposed to. Look at this mess.” He pointed to the cup that he had just drunk from. ”I told you, you have to have this kitchen cleaned by the time your mother and I get home from work.”

”Dad, I ” Chunks were rising in my throat. I grew afraid of the monster as he slowly started to come closer towards me.

He wasn't my dad. Who was he?

Jack s.n.a.t.c.hed my arm and twisted me around. He raised his large hand at me. I watched as his hand came down and struck my rear end as if it were a piece of dough. He went slowly at first. Then there was a look in his eye. His face changed. The monster had taken over him.

He began hitting me harder and faster. I screamed aloud. He took the other hand and covered my mouth. I couldn't move. The monster was too strong. He somehow held me as still as he could, with that one hand on my mouth, and he kept hitting me with the other. He was sweating, and his breathing was outrageous. His eyes were wide as the sweat dripped into them.

The pain became almost unbearable. I felt like I was going to pa.s.s out. Before I could completely black out, he stopped. He fell backward and hit the wall behind him. He was exhausted. I was exhausted. I crawled along the floor to the table to get as far away from him as I possibly could. I tried to sit down, but I was hurting too much. I covered my mouth as loud cries, which I seemed to have no control over, came out of me.

”Kristen, I didn't do this to hurt you,” he lied. ”I did this to prepare you for what you have to live with. You have responsibilities that you have to uphold. Life is not a handout. You are not always going to get everything you want.”

I cried harder, confused.

”Shut up!” he yelled at me. ”You don't have anything to cry about. When I was a child, we got it a lot worse than that little spanking you just had. If I even once cried the way you are doing right now, I'd get more!”

He balled his fists up and strained his face to show how intense his punishments must have been.