The 'Groomed'

A Push and A Death

My eyes flew open to hear someone banging at my door. I looked out my window. It was still dark. I looked at my clock. 3:23 in the morning. I rubbed my eyes and went to my door. My dad was standing there with a Bud Light in his hand. I could smell the foul stench of beer and nachos in his breath.

"Dad, it's like, three in the morning. You need to go to bed." I grabbed his arm and started to lead him to the couch.

"Don't touch me!" My dad yelled.

I sighed. "Dad you need re-"

I was cut off when a I saw a hand bolt towards my cheek. When it arrived, I felt a stinging sensation that made tears form in my eyes. I fell to the ground and put my hand on my cheek. My dad grabbed a chunk of hair in one hand and my left arm in the other.

"DAD STOP PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS!"

He laughed. "Mama's not here to save ya. She's at work. So guess what? I get to do whatever I want to you."

He paused for a second.

"Daddy please I-"

"Don't 'daddy please' me! I never loved you. When your mother had you, I wanted to throw you in the fire. Leave you there to burn. Nobody loves you. You are just one big humiliation of a daughter!"

The next thing you know, we were by the stairs. He smiled, and picked me up over his shoulder.

"Daddy you don't have to do this. I love you." I cried.

All I remember is being thrown into the air, toppling down the stairs.

-

I woke up in a different bed in a different room the next morning. Different lights shown down upon my hurt body. The hospital. I looked to my right to see my mother bawling in her hands.

"Mom?" I hoarsely whispered.

Her head shot up. "Oh my god. Oh my-"

She bolted toward me and hugged me. I could feel her sobbing in my shoulder. I started to cry as well.

"Mommy what happened?"

She yanked a tissue out of a tissue box and wiped under her eyes, making sure not to ruin her makeup.

"Your dad, he was wasted and he, uh." She paused as more tears rolled down her face. "He threw you down the stairs."

"Where is daddy?"

"After he hurt you, he got in his car and started to drive. He got in an accident." She cried.

"Did he get arrested?" I asked.

"No sweetie. Your father, uh, his crash was so bad that he passed away." She whispered.

We both started to sob. Some people think I shouldn't be crying because my father hurt the crap out of me. He started to drink when things got really tough. He thought it would make things better.

I got out of the hospital two days later. The doctors said I was lucky. I only had bruises, a sprained wrist, and a slight concussion. I went home and got out a black knee-high dress and red flats for the funeral tomorrow.

-

When I saw my dad get put 7 feet under, it was the most hardest thing ever. After the funeral I went home and got ready for bed. I laid there to think about how life would be without a father. Just the thought of that made me cry. I would cry every night until my pillows were soaked with the salty water, until I was asleep.