Christ.
"I'm going to go get a coffee, and check on that best friend of yours," Dad announced as he rose from his chair. "But can you do me a favor? When your mother comes in later, can you put her nerves at ease?" Smirking, he added, "Some of the things you were ranting on about last night shook the poor woman."
"I don’t remember a bleeding thing," I groaned. "Everything's all hazy."
"You might not remember," Dad chuckled as he walked over to the door and opened it. "But she'll remember for the rest of her life."
I waited until Dad had left the room before reaching for my phone.
My father.
My father.
Why the fuck was I hearing Shannon say those words?
And why was my heart telling me it was vital?
Jesus, they must have knocked me out with some strong ass, Class A drugs.
Focus, Johnny.
Remember.
I scrolled through my contacts with the intention of calling her to apologize, only to slump in dismay when I remembered that I didn’t have her number.
And even if I did, I couldn’t call her.
Because her father took her phone.
My father.
My father.
What was I missing here?
68
Frustrated Fears
Shannon
I didn’t want to go home.
But I knew I had to.
I didn’t want to get beaten.
But I knew I would.
In a messed-up way, I accepted my fate.
I knew there was no other way out.
Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when the first thing that greeted me when I stepped through the front door on Saturday evening was my father's fist.
The force of the blow knocked the air clean out of my lungs and I dropped to the hall floor on my hands and knees.
"I knew it!" Dad snarled as he towered above me, bleary eyed and stinking of whiskey. "I fucking knew you were whoring around," he roared. "I told your mother and she wouldn’t believe me."
I didn’t have a chance to respond or defend myself before he reached down and fisted my hair, dragging me further into the house.
"Get off me," I screamed, clawing at his hand as it painfully dug into my scalp. "Stop!"
This is it.
This is the day you die.
"You're a little tramp," my father snarled, not stopping until we were in the kitchen.
He literally dragged me to my feet only to fling me away like a ragdoll.
My face hit the corner of the kitchen table with a thud and I collapsed on the floor, landing hard on the cold kitchen tiles.
"Your cunting school called!" Dad roared, his words slurring as he closed the space between us. "Told me what your teacher caught ya doing, you dirty, little whore!"
"I didn’t do anything!" I screamed as hot tears pooled down my cheeks. "I'm bleeding," I sobbed, clutching the side of my face as wetness trickled down my fingers.
"You'll be bleeding a lot worse by the time I'm finished with you!" Dad roared in my face.
Grabbing my arm, he shook me so hard that my head snapped back and forth violently.
"You little tramp, riding in the fucking changing rooms."
"I wasn’t!" I screamed, trying to pull free from his hold. "Get off me!"
"You want to end up like your mother?" he sneered. "Is that it?" He shook me harder. "You want to be humped with a baby at sixteen?"
"Get off her!" a voice cried out.
My eyes landed on my eleven-year-old brother standing in the doorway and my heart sank.
"No, Tadhg," I strangled out. "Go back upstairs."
"Get the fuck out, boy," Dad barked, releasing me. "If you know what's good for ya."
"Leave my sister alone," Tadhg growled, taking a step into the kitchen.
"Your sister's a cunt," Dad slurred, focusing his attention on my little brother. "Are you going to defend a cunt, boy?"
"Ollie," Tadhg called out bravely "Get help."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my nine-year-old brother cowering in the hallway with three-year-old Sean tucked under his arm.
All three boys were reincarnations of our father, with sandy blond hair and big brown eyes, and all three boys in this moment were staring at our father in horror.
"Get your holes up that stairs before I redden them," Dad snarled.
Sean scrambled for the staircase and Ollie dove for the front door.
But Tadhg stayed where he was.
"You can't do that to her," he challenged, glaring at our father with his chin jutted out. "Joey says we don’t hit girls."
Shaking, I scrambled to my feet and hurried to intercept Tadhg before our father could.
"Go next-door to Fran and phone Joey," I pleaded, as I tried to shove him out of the kitchen and out of harm's way.
Even though he was only eleven, he was already taller and stronger than me. But he was my little brother and I would protect him with my life.
"Please, Tadhg," I begged him. "Just go."
Tadhg wouldn’t budge.
"I'll protect you," he told me before turning to face our father.
Oh god, no…
"I’m not afraid of you!" he hissed, taking a protective stance in front of me. "You think you're all tough, but you're nothing but an alcoholic scumbag who goes around hitting girls!"
Our father took a menacing step closer and my heart seized with dread.
Out of sheer panic, I threw my arms around my little brother, and braced myself for impact.
The blow came between the middle of my shoulder blades, taking with it the air from my lungs and my legs from beneath me.
Crumpling to the floor, I curled up in the smallest ball I could as my father's boot connected with my back over and over.
"Stop!" Tadhg was screaming, beating his fists against our father's back. "You're killing her."
"Tadgh, run…" Gasping for air, I tried to scramble to my feet, but Dad caught my ponytail and dragged me clean off the ground.
"You're a little fucking liar," he snarled seconds before his fist connected with my face. "A dirty whore."
"Shannon!" my little brother screamed, flailing helplessly. "Shannon!"
"I'm sorry," I strangled out, coughing when blood trickled down the back of my throat. "Please, stop –"
Another punch to my face had my teeth rattling so hard in my mouth that my legs gave out once more and I collapsed on the floor, feeling a chunk of my hair rip from my scalp.
"Leave her alone," Tadhg sobbed, throwing his arms around my body. "Please don’t hurt her."
I heard my little brother's scream just as he was dragged away from me.
"Dad," I gasped, desperately trying to drag air into my lungs. "Dad, please just –"
His boot connected with my face and I lost focus.
My head drooped.
My eyes rolled back.
He's going to finish you off.
It's over.
Shaking, I curled up as small as I could and clenched my eyes shut.
You're back in that room with Johnny.
He's telling you he loves you.
You're okay.
Kick after kick after kick.
Spluttering and wheezing, I desperately tried to cling to the image of his face.
It was fading out.
My body wasn’t hurting as much.
I wasn’t feeling the kicks or the blows now.
I couldn’t hear the screams of my brothers.
Everything was warm.
Warm and light.
You're dying.
Just close your eyes and give in.
Close your eyes, Shannon, and it'll all be over soon…
"He's coming!" I heard my other little brother, Ollie, scream as the sound of the front door slamming filled my ears. "Get off my sister!"
Using every ounce of energy left inside of my body, I forced myself to cover my head with my hands and protect myself from my father's blows.
Stay awake.
It's not over yet.
You are not going to die in this house.
Not today.
I could hear voices then: both Mam's and Joey's.
Joey.
I could hear Joey.
He was here.
And suddenly the pain was gone.
The kicking stopped.
The feel of two pairs of hands wrapping around my body filled my senses – what was left of them – and I opened my eyes to the sight of my little brothers' attempting to protect my body with theirs.
Tadhg was bleeding.
At least, I thought he was.
His cheek was smeared in bright red blood.
Maybe it was my blood.
I couldn’t tell anymore.