I said good bye to Carma and we left. Its time to go home. On the way home I was thinking if I should tell Audrey about my biological dad. I don’t want to see him again it may cost me my life this time. He said whoever interviews me I should say I don’t like them until he gets enough money to get me back to him. But it will only be worse, I mean if he cant look at me because I have my mother's eyes he shouldn’t be anywhere near me.
He is coming to take me to his house when we get home. Audrey's house is my home now, she has made me feel so safe, and so protected. Its shame she can't have children of her own. Because she would make the most wonderful mother, my dads house was never home to me just a place of horrible memories.
I asked Audrey if I could stay with her forever and she said the same thing she said this morning ‘Come on don’t you want to see your biological dad I may be your legal guardian but he’s still your dad’ I just shrugged at her. I didn’t want to reveal anything just yet I don’t know Audrey enough, she is my hero though. As soon as I took my jacket off and sat on the sofa the doorbell rang. I was dreading what’s to come. “Hey Jase” My Dad is a tall man he is 6 ft 2 and he's an ex builder, but he’s just a thug now. “Come on boy” He said in his friendliest voice, it still sounded threatening to me. I picked up the jacket I just took off and headed towards my so called called my Dad. He patted me on the back towards the car warning me for what’s to come. That car was a pile of crap it was white and trashed. I forced myself to get in the back. He started the engine a few time since it didn’t work the first time. Then before I knew it we were half way to his house. I wanted to open the door and fall out but we were in the middle of nowhere. His house was in the middle of nowhere, an abandoned house with 2 bedrooms and a tatty paint work but you couldn’t see since it half covered in ivy, it was surrounded in trees and the only way you could get there was on a dirt made road, the cottage had an over grown garden filled with weeds and dandelions. The bushes around them were not the lovely black berry bushes but the horrid thorn bushes that get caught on your jeans and hoodie. This is the house were I spent my child hood years the house that I have had many 'unlucky' injuries in.
I usually ‘fall down the stairs’ or ‘slip playing football’ I’m a ‘clumsy’ child even though I have perfect balance. He unlocked the door and I walked in the trashed cottage. There was many picture frames on the floor and broken furniture. If anyone besides Jase and I step foot in this house you would think this is a run down house and no one has lived here since the 60’s of something but when you get to the kitchen you would think from the empty Chinese boxes and left over pizza on the kitchen table that in reality its just someone who doesn't care. I stood in the living room expecting the worse I squeezed my eyes shut and tensed my body for what’s about to come I put my hands over my stomach since that was where he always started.
Before I knew it his dirty hands collided with my freshly washed face, I felt some thing warm and sticky as a fell to the ground with out a word, the warm sticky-ness continued as he walked around my limp body. I’m guessing the warm sticky-ness is blood, I felt it slip down my cheek and drip to the floor. He was shouting at me, I couldn’t make it out as he ear was blocked with blood and shock had taken over my nervous system. I tried to get up which was a foolish mistake. He grabbed the arm that was supporting my heavy pain filled body and twisted it so it was behind my back as he held my hair to stop me falling down to the floor. He said something in my ear that I could hear as the blood dripped down my neck. “It’s your fault she’s not here your fucking fault”
He said in pure anger, he stepped on a glass causing it to smash and pushed me down on the tiny shards and they pricked me in the stomach. I shouted in pain, when I walked in I promised I wouldn’t make a sound if I did that would only satisfy him. He used his foot to make me face the ceiling, the glass now pressing into my back, he then rested his foot on my stomach and slowly pressed me in the side so the glass slashed through my stomach making me cry in pain again. Jase laughed as I cried and begged him to stop, my hands were on my stomach wet and warm. He then kicked my shins and punched my arms as usual.
“Its been 13 years son, You love your mother son? Wouldn’t she – be – Fucking proud, Of the weak – pathetic boy you are”
As if the abuse didn’t hurt enough, his words hurt like no pain I’ve ever felt, I hear a crunching noise I think that was my jaw. Or my nose. Each has been broken many times before. Finally he stopped and walked into the dining room I picked my self up with great difficulty. I pulled my self to the open door dragging my body, as it wouldn’t respond to what I want I tried not to make a noise but that was hard as every time I moved every where ached with agony. This might be the time were I succeed to escape. I took the glass out of my stomach only to make it bleed more. I limped to the driveway. I’m surprised I made it this far. Maybe if I try I could get to Carma’s house, the thought of Carma made me want to see her. I want her to help me without any questions because that’s the type of person she is. She’s a listener not a questioner, I’m half way down the road that we drove along that seems a mile long. Even thought I've only just met Carma, I feel as if she'd walk the earth for her friends, and I hope I'm a friend. I waved to cars that went by which were about three but they didn’t stop, that’s the thing with people they don’t care about other people. If you ran to the middle of town with a gunshot in your arm I can grantee that only one of two people would take notice. That’s how people are like these days but Carma she’s different she cares. At least when she talks to me it sounds like she cares.
It took me a long while to get back to civilisation; I’m trying to remember the way to Carma’s house. It hurts so badly. What hurts you may ask… everything, my arms, my face, my legs, my chest and my heart. I know that sounds cheesy but anything will work with the amount of blood pouring out of me now. I stared to feel sleepy; every time I blinked it took longer for my eyes to open. I didn't know where I was, but it was familiar, and that was enough. My hands are sticky with blood. It reminds me of Macbeth with the blood stained hands. I touch my neck and it’s covered in dry blood. My blood. My white shirt is no longer white it’s red with white patches and with every step I take I feel more pain and behind me I’ve left red droplets where I'm bleeding from my nose and continuously bleeding from my stomach, I don’t know how far I’ve walked, I don’t know if this might be the time I die, for some reason this time it was worse, this time he had used something to hurt me, rather than his own hands. He smashed a glass and pressed me into the glass, I could still feel pieces of glass in my skin as I stagger along the road Carma lives, I see spots and I'm dizzy, I then feel my body collapse against the cold concrete floor. I blink again I try to open my eyes, but then... slowly fading... into what I think is finally peace