I woke up from the cold hard floor behind my favourite old convenience store. I felt safe here because I knew no one liked this particular alleyway. It smelt strongly of stale urine, moldy food and things scuttled underfoot. As I start to doze off to sleep again I remember running with my heart in my throat just hours before. I still shiver at the thought of my dad grabbing his shotgun to chase away his only child for a woman he knew for five months. People really do go crazy out of love. I hated myself for not being able to anticipate what that demoness had in store for us, but then again, I had thought blood was thicker than water. It all started a few months after my mother passed.
My father came crouching through the front door, he always hated how low the frames of the double doors were. He was followed by a thick gust of liquor and urine, it wasn’t hard to tell where he’s been. But like the past few nights, once his foggy soulless dark green eyes with a tinge of grey lock on to me, I know I’m in for it. He calls me a jinx. He calls me it so often that I started to believe it. I mean, I’m the sole survivor of a horrific head-on crash that resulted in four victims including my mother. I miss her more than words can describe. Her gentle persona and syrup sweet voice were like a calming mechanism for me. There was a light drizzle outside that night the type that hit the car ever so lightly that it was soothing to the ear. I closed my eyes and relaxed to the sound, which was soon conquered by the deafening sound of honking and my mother’s shrill scream.
Every morning since then I wake up to the dreadful sound of my mother screaming. And coated with more bruises than the night before. I guess it’s my father’s way of coping with my mother’s death, I mean even I haven’t been the same. I occasionally think, “I’m going to run away the next time he puts his big brutish hands on me”. I mean would it even kill him to apply at least some lotion to his coarse skin, but that’s beside the point. The main reason I’m still around is that after our little session of my father “opening up” I lay there like an uneven canvas with crimson paint splattered all over. Occasionally as I’m drifting in and out of consciousness I hear him whimper “Maggie, why did you have to die? Why did you leave me alone with him… why couldn’t it have been just him instead?” Which in turn makes me cry more than the throbbing pain from my wounded body. I keep reciting to myself like a devotee of some cult “Maybe he won’t drink and hit me tomorrow! Things could always change! Tomorrow could be different!” until one day, it was.
I was limping and huffing back home books in tow down the worn-out road, enjoying the bright sunlight dancing on my face through the gaps of autumn leaves still left on the tree tops. I enjoyed the feeling of a light breeze slightly propelling me forward like a parent helping their child learn to ride a bike. I walked knowing that once I step through those auburn double doors to that old, suburban house with a creaky porch, I would lose that peaceful moment to myself, so I stood there for a few minutes to indulge in the blissful feeling of peace.
As I got closer to that hell hole, I opened my eyes wide out of bewilderment as I faintly heard a woman’s joyful laughter up ahead on the rigid driveway. The closer I got the more awestruck I became. She had a perfectly sculptured face which shone in the sunlight. She had a comely figure and a flawless bronze complexion. She had locks of obsidian-black which flowed over her shoulders. Her alluring hazel eyes were matched with slender eyebrows which made onlookers that lingered a bit longer get lost in her eyes. Her delicate ears framed a diva’s nose which was perched right atop her blush-pink lips. She had gleaming heavenly white teeth and an angelic smile.
As I approached I noticed something on my father’s face which was abnormal, it was a smile, laid across his chiseled face. He welcomed me with open arms as if he were possessed, he was a completely different person than the drunken brute from last night. He then proceeded to introduce me to our undoing.
Amanda Walters seemed like the perfect woman. She was as beautiful as an angel and as kind and loving as a mother to her newborn baby. At the beginning I was enjoying this new chapter in my life, my father seemed happy which in turn made me twice as happy since I didn’t have to suffer his wrath anymore. He even started acting more fatherly, spending time with me, even giving me an allowance again. Amanda herself acted as a motherly figure and we’ve grown quite close. I would sometimes think she was a godsend gift for my father and I during our lowest time.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
After a few weeks, her fake persona started falling apart. I noticed she was a control freak and got jealous of me and my father spending time together. Occasionally we would go to the old park to play catch and when we return I started to notice the way Amanda stared me down like a lion staring down a baby gazelle. Her gaze penetrated through me entirely and made me feel uncomfortable. I could tell she wasn’t pleased seeing us happy together but, I was too joyous to care.
A few weeks went by peacefully and as I came back from school one day I was surprised to see Amanda home. As I’m usually the first one home on weekdays. She seemed happier than usual and my curiosity won out so I asked: “Hey Amanda, did something good happen today?” She replied, “Oh, yes honey, I got a promotion.” I congratulated her and offered to cook a special meal in commemoration. As I finished cooking, I sat down and started channel surfing while waiting for my father. Amanda came in with some wine and said, “Let’s start a little early!” I nodded and received my glass. After taking a few sips my mind started blanking out and I felt dizzy. I call out and said, “I’m not feeling so well I’ll go get some rest, for now” as I got up my legs went numb and I fell face first onto the Venus red carpet, I never took for granted how soft it was until now. I was brought back from my own little world by the ear-splitting sound of Amanda laughing like a demented old man. She then said, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day, I’m tired of seeing your smug face when you're with James. HE’S MINE ALL MINE”. The only thing I could think was “this bitch is crazy, I’M GONNA DIE, OH LORD HAVE MERCY” I manage to mumble “please don’t kill me” she laughed hysterically and said “Oh I won’t but your daddy might you see. I came up with this plan the first time I saw you, ONLY MY CHILDREN WILL LIVE WITH JAMES AND ME” she took a deep breath and continued her elaborate explanation. “Soo… I knew I had to get rid of you somehow. But I needed a good ploy. And after getting your father a bit tipsy one night he opened up about the accident.” My face sank at the thought of my father telling her I’m a jinx. As I continued to fabricate how their conversation that night would’ve gone in my mind. She yelled, “PAY ATTENTION, this is the best part little Henry!” And by the way, how is it that your mother died and you managed to live through that same wreckage?” After an awkward moment of silence she continued, “but then it hit me, how would he feel if you take his new woman too?” My stomach started cramping up in fear as beads of sweat covered my body. It was at that moment I knew my life would start falling apart again.
Just as I was about to start sobbing I heard a loud BANG. She was self-inflicting wounds to make her plan as realistic as possible. All that went through my mind processing that was “OH MY GOD she’s crazy SHE REALLY IS.” I forced myself to get up and stop her before it was too late, maybe even talk her out of it if she were still sane enough to listen. After a few minutes of struggling, I finally reached Amanda but she didn’t look as angelic as she usually did, with her shredded clothes and bruised skin, even her perfect face was ruined by a large gash running diagonally through her silicone enhanced lips. By the time I reached her side and grabbed hold she passed out from head trauma.
I then heard the door knob turning. My mind went blank with fear as my body tensed up, I turned my head slowly to looked up and saw my father’s facial expression change dramatically I could see the scorn and hatred in his eyes and knew he already assumed I was the culprit. He mumbled “What did you do Henry?” but before I could manage to say “I swear I didn-” He screamed like a barbarian sounding out a battle cry as he rushed towards us. He grabbed me and threw me across the living room. He then proceeded to grab Amanda and pull her body into his embrace as he started crying.
After a few minutes, he noticed me staggering towards the door and said “you did this…this…was… was taking Maggie not enough for you?” Before I could manage to say a word he mumbled “jinx…have… to…kill…kill” followed by a loud bellow “I’LL KILL YOU” he then ran over to me and grabbed me by my collar and proceeded to strike me, after being on the receiving end for a while, I manage to jab my thumbs slightly into his eye sockets and break free of his crane like grasp. As he grabbed his face and growled I limped through the doors as fast as I could. After reaching the road I looked back and saw a madman with the features of my father loading up a shotgun. As tears streamed down my face I ran for my life knowing that it was officially over.