Step Father

I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I his behind the living room couch and watched. Watched as that man raised his filthy hand and hit the small cowering boy's face. I watched as the boy cried in pain on the cold floor, shielding his head from the blows that kept on coming. He was seven years old. I watched as the beatings got harder and harder and at some point I cracked...

"Daddy!" I screamed and I sprung out from behind the couch. "Daddy stop hurting Joshua!" I shouted and I ran over to the little boy, who was now full of bruises and I threw myself over top of him. "Stop hitting him Daddy...please!" I begged.

My father snorted and from the side table he took a large gulp from his beer bottle and spat at us. He finished the bottle and threw it down next to us, missing Joshua and I by inches. I flinched and I took a deep breath. Was he going to hit me now? I sat there holding Joshua close and bit my lip.

"Take yer brother an' leave," he slurred. "Go wan! Get outta 'ere," he said and he kicked at me.

I didn't have to be asked twice before I grabbed Joshua's hand and pulled him up. I pulled him out of the living room and out of the house. We ran deep into the woods behind our house. As we ran deeper we could see it, the familiar largeness of the tree house our grandfather had built for us. It was rather spacious inside although it didn't look like much from afar. Once we climbed in to the treehouse we took a minute to regain out breath. I reached out to him and pushed the hair in his face back.

"Don't," he said and he pushed my hand away.

"Don't push me away," I said and I reached out to him. "Don't be a wuss and let me see what that mad did."

As my hand my contact with his forehead he pushed it away again. "Don't," he said again. "Stop Georganna, it hurts," he mumbled and tears welled up in his eyes.

"Well. How else am I supposed to check if you're badly injured? You could be bleeding somewhere and if you are we need to stop it," I explained.

He was reluctant but after a little more explaining his gave permission to check. I did and there wasn't anything too bad. But there were many bruises and scratches and I frowned.

"This time wasn't as bad as the others because you stopped him before his final blows," he said. "Normally it hurts much worse. What about you?" He asked. "He kicked you didn't he?"

I smiled. "No... he missed me," I assured him.

Today was no different than any other besides the fact that I decided to intervene. My father was an abusive man who seemed to relieve his anger by beating he helpless son. It made me angry but both Joshua and I felt uneasy about telling our mother. Our mother was a good and kind person but she worked away from home a good three weeks every month. She was the one who earned money for us and we didn't want her worrying while she easy away.

"I wish mother was home now..." said Joshua.

"I do too."

"When do you think she'll be home?"

"She left just last week. It'll be another two weeks before we see her again."

He frowned and I knew why.

"Just a few more weeks," he said softly. "And then she'll be home and I get to have a break right?"

I nodded but was saddened by the optimism he still had for the situation we were in. He'd be able to have a break in a few weeks? His response angered me in a sense But when my mother was home my father didn't even attempt to harm us. And sure it may have been stupid of us not to tell... but our father was dying. He was a sick old man. And when it was his time he'd be gone and he'd no longer be able to hurt us. All we had to do was wait. The doctors had estimated one or two months. My mother was sad... but Joshua and I were counting the days down. I was only a matter of time before he's he gone forever and we would not have to worry any longer. It was just a matter of time now.

 

Okay I will I was copying from my computer document and there were no mistakes in there so I didn't think there'd be any in here but there are