Broken Bottles

Hi my name is Dakota. I am 22 years old. My life was normal. I was living with my mother before she died in a bank robbery. She was shot; murdered in cold blood. The sight is still engraved in my mind. My mom lying there, pale, not breathing. What a thing to see right? I felt like dying every day since then. My dad took me in because he cared for my safety. He was nice to me. His name was David. He got me anything I wanted. Pearl necklaces, a plasma TV. in my room, he even bought me my own horse. We use to go to parties together. He also used to drink like a fish. He would usually get so drunk that he would wander in the woods naked. I would worry about him for hours then at like five o clock in the morning the neighbors would drag him to the front door. I would be so delighted to see him but them ashamed because he had embarrassed me in front of the neighbors. Another time he got so drunk he tried to make out with the neighbor’s cat. They tried to sue him for assault on a feline but the judge thought it was too stupid of a case. All our neighbors hold grudges against my father and I. I was 14 then.

One day my dad was drinking heavily. I had just come back from school to give a note that said I had detention for texting in class. He went off on me. He was yelling and screaming. Sometimes he would grab me by my arm whenever I tried to walk away. He was furious. He was smashing windows with his bottle. I didn’t want him to disturb so I was trying to tell him to stop it. What he was doing could anger the neighbors. That’s when he hit me on my head with the bottle. I fell to the ground. He stood over me, looking at me dead in my eye. I wasn’t looking at him, I was too busy holding my head. I felt the warm oozing blood spread across my scalp and running down my forehead. I went blind for a few seconds. It’s weird how I couldn’t feel pain in my own head. I felt too much adrenaline to feel pain. I wanted to scream for help. “You’re drunk!” I wanted to shout at him for hurting me like that. I tried but before I even got a word out he hit me again.

This time harder, in my face. I felt a sting of pain go through the blood vessels of my face. I screamed in agony but he didn’t listen, he continued to inflict his torture on me. Before I even thought about fighting back he had me up against the wall his hands on neck. I struggled a bit but he was a lot stronger than I was and bigger than me. He didn’t let go of me he punched in my face instead. I felt and heard my nose break. Blood splattered all over the floor as I went out of breath. I decided to kick him in the nuts hoping it will down him for a while. I was right.

I ran out of the house to my friend Carmen’s house thinking he would kill me for kicking him there. I rang the doorbell. No one was home. Scared but stupidly thinking he calmed down by now, I go back home. I thought I was smart to go through the back door. But he didn’t calm down. He actually answered the door with a baseball bat. Smart me.

He hit me on my shoulder. I managed to stay standing. I tried to run off but he grabbed my hair. I then fell on the ground. He dragged me in threw me in my room and locked the door behind him. I was there wondering how long I was meant to stay there. I looked in the mirror. I was bleeding profusely from nose, mouth and head.

In the brink of dawn I awoke. My bruises and scars from yesterday’s fight were blue. I was blue, on the inside. I stared at the mirror again but this time I got a bigger reaction, more scarred than last night. I reached for my makeup box. I opened a bottle of beige coloured cream and then dabbed it on a sponge. I spread it on the bruises as they stung. I couldn’t let anyone see that I have been beaten by my own father.

I entered the school with constant suspicion. Wondering if the others would see me. They didn’t notice me. I ran to the bathroom to check my face. Wow, I had gym class. So I would have to get sweaty and stinky enough to take a shower. Great I also forgot to bring my makeup. Wonderful.

My friend Carmen tagged along after I had refused to take shower. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to my friend who has deserted me in my time of need. “Hey, how are you?” She finally spoke oh no she didn’t! “How am I? Really?” I wasn’t in the best mood to talk to my friend. “Okay, sorry is this a bad time?” I could hear the sadness in her voice, like she had been waiting to talk with me. “Little bit” I replied and regretted as soon as the words came out. She stormed off into the hallway alone. I felt bad in all but also glad to have my space.

I dreaded my house as I stood in front of it with keys trickling in my hand. I can’t go in. He’s home from work I will not go in! I told myself again this time out loud. An old lady looked at me like I was crazy. I paid no mind to her. I ran away into the park. On my way I saw my neighbor gardening. I sat on the cold wet bench. Was he going to find me I thought? What was I to do? I fell asleep on the bench for a few hours or so then woke up. My father probably erased my entire existence. Into the darkness I heard a beer bottle crack. I thought it was my drunken father! Had he found me! I was scared. Not to face him for me never coming home but to face the beating. There’s only so much I can take of violence. I prayed to God. Please don’t let that man step out of the darkness and into the light, revealing his ugly face.

A minute has past, which felt like my whole life. I looked as I prepare to sprint into the darkness. There wasn't one not two not three but four guys. I knew them. They went to my school. They were seniors. All of them looked drunk as they were smashing beer bottles on the ground. I couldn't see what they looked like. It was much too dark. One of them saw me and started to walk towards me. The others followed I wasn't scared of them at all. They didn't threaten me. My dad did. I stood still.

“Hey! You come here often?” What is that supposed to be, a lame pick up line or something? I think it was the blonde one who said that then grabbed me by my arm. I twisted my arm slightly to loosen his grip. I stood tall. He wasn't fooling me. What he wanted to look like a rapist or something. He was messing with the wrong girl. Any person that drunk must not be in their right mind. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. So I began to walk away. Out of the blue, I felt someone grab me roughly around the shoulders. All I could feel was nothing. I wasn’t fast enough to know what it was. My eyes shielded with darkness as I fell to the ground. I was paralyzed. Whoever did it could easily take me away now. He has found me. I am now helpless.

I woke up as the darkness started to fade from my eyes. I regained my vision. I notice I was lying on my bed in my room. Strange, so my dad did find me. “Hello Dakota.” I nearly jumped at the sound of my name. My dad walked in with a police officer. “I think it’s a little odd to be asking me that right now.” I reacted to his nice tone after he was beating me up yesterday. “So I heard you got grounded that’s why you didn’t show up?” He had a lot of nerve. I wasn’t afraid of my dad hurting me so I told the police the truth. Hoping the police would take me somewhere else.

“Dad could you give us a moment?” I could’ve sworn he gave me a look that said don’t you dare tell the cop what I did to you! I will tell exactly that. “So how come you didn’t come home?” He asked. “Well I was afraid to see my father.” I started. “Yesterday…” I heard the door slam open. The police and I shared glances then stared at my raged father. “I think you should leave now.” I’m sorry but…” “You don’t have a warrant so leave please.” My father said as if he calmed down. The police left my room and left the house. My father started to close the door.

I tense up inside. My sense of fear was so great I bet he could hear the pounding in my chest. I wished I was outside still. Sleeping, no need to worry about anything. Why would he hit me like this? He could break my spine but he'll never break my spirit. I won't sit around and take it. I will fight with all I have. Not like what I did last time. This man is going down. He would feel the pain, not I. My dad approached. His fists gripping the air as if he wanted to grab something. I stood up. He grabbed my arm. I slapped his arm. “Don't tell anyone!” He shouted. “No I hate you!” I put as much venom in my words as I could. That's when he slapped me. I stood up. I elbowed him in his face. “How does it feel to get your butt kicked by your own daughter?” This angered him. I didn't care. I knead him in his gut. Wait what am I doing I can’t beat up my own father I thought. He lunged for me as he said I shouldn’t of done that. I took a lamp threw it at his head. He fell him agony. I knew he was exaggerating his pain though. I grabbed my coat then tried ran out of the door. My dad grabbed me swung me against the hard table. I felt my head hit it as hard as possible. “Don’t you ever challenge me again.” He walked away. I could barely stand. I was paralyzed. I thought about moving but I was way too lazy too. I thought I broke my skull well if that happened I don’t think I’d be thinking about it. “I beat you because I love you!” That’s insanity I thought.

Like usual, I didn’t shower because I didn’t feel like it. I had this huge bruise on my forehead. I wore a hat. “Hey Dakota,” Carmen was waiting for me. I was nice this time; I greeted her with a nice reply. There she was Penelope Devilling, the most popular girl in school. She came over to me. I tried to ignore her. “The loser convection called, they want their loser back.” “Rude!” I said. I just love bon qui qui. “Like totally, can’t you see that I’m so popular.” I could see it and smell it. No really a baby’s diaper smells better than Penelopoop. She used to be one of my friends until she became all rude and snobby. I really hated her. “Hey Penelopoop, where’d you get your hair done, the car wash?” “What did you just say to my face? You’re so ugly that your dad dropped you off at school then he got fined for littering. You’re mom isn’t that great of a person. She stole money in the bank once she was high. No wonder that idiot shot her. She was messed up.” Oh know she didn’t! Diss me all you like, I actually find it funny but diss my mama… you’re just asking for it!

She got all up in my face spitting in it. I looked her in the brown eye. I was so mad. How dare she? I slapped her so hard she twirled in a 180 degree turn completely facing the other direction. She held onto the water fountain. She stared at me. “You suck so badly.” She looked like she was going to just walk away. She turned around then kicked me in my leg. I grabbed her hair; she pulled mine. We brought each other to the floor. I couldn’t tell if it was me screaming or her. All I heard was a guy call “Girl fight!” It had been about a few minutes later the principle came, she tore us apart. Next thing I know I am in detention. I got in trouble again. What would my dad think? Would he go crazy again? I can’t go home I thought. I will run away again. What if he’s expecting me too? What if the police man comes and gets me again. What if he finds me and drags me in the house himself. I will go home and see.

I went home. My dad got a school phone call so there was no need on filling him in on how I got into a fight that day. “So I heard you were fighting with another girl, why?” He started out calm and then got angrier and angrier. He started to point and push and grab again. This time I yelled at him so maybe he wouldn’t get so carried away. He grabbed my arm then shoved me into the fridge. It didn’t hurt too bad. I still grabbed my coat and charged for the door. This time successfully getting out of the door. My dad chased me. I decided to take a baseball bat and throw it at his head. It hit his head. Grateful for my good aim I sprinted into the long road to somewhere.

All I could feel was myself running. I didn’t stop as I took my endless strides to freedom. As I was running I saw my friends’ houses. A few times I did want to stay with them but I knew their parents would make me go home. I ran past stores. I ran past an old man a walking with a dog. I ran past another old man holding a dog. I finally saw a bus stop. I reached in to my pocket of money. I pulled out a few coins which would be suffice enough for my journey. I am going to see my therapist so I can tell her what happened to me. She was my therapist since my mother died. She’s been like a mother to me. She also happens to be a therapist. She’s my personal therapist. She will help me get through this.

Fifteen minutes later, the bus arrived. I hopped on and paid. I sat down beside some guy reading a newspaper. I looked out the window. I heard too many abuse stories. How the abusers scare the victims into to staying quiet. I will not be that. I will protect myself. To me abuse seemed like something that could never happen to me. I would never tell anyone. I am too embarrassed to even tell my best friend. My abuser has kept to many secrets and told too many lies. I am only doing this because I don’t want to end up like that girl on the news found dead from too much abuse. Now I know the ones who inflict pain on others is because of their own insecurities. Now I get it. Ha! Stupid Meany.

I finally reached the street my therapist lived on. I got off the bus and proceeded into the apartment. I knocked politely on her door. Creek… “Hello Brenda.” I said with a smile upon my face. “Hello” She smiled as well. She hadn’t seen me for months. “Would you like some tea?” She asked gesturing to the tea pot. I said yes. Of course I have been on the run for a while and if I didn’t get something to boost up my energy that wouldn’t be good. I took a dainty sip. The tea really sucked but I wanted it so I drank it off.

“So what brings you here?” “Well…” I stuttered “Well…?” “My dad hasn’t been the nicest person to me” “What happened?” she asked “Well, yesterday dad and I got over an argument. He started to crash windows and he hit me in my face.” “He must have been drinking or insane!” “He just gets really drunk, all the time and it hurts!” “You shouldn’t sit around and take it. Oh my gosh! I am grateful you came and told me after the first time. It could’ve gotten worse. How long has he been violent?” She put her hand on my knee in a gesture of sympathy. “It started a few days ago.” “I will keep you safe from him.” She said. “I knew he was being a little too nice to you over the years. That’s how the abuser isolates their victim” “I’ll keep you safe; we can even file a domestic violence lawsuit.” Brenda brought me to my room. “We can’t let him know where you are okay.” I agreed.

The room I was staying in was very nice. It had plenty of sheets on the double bed. Smelled like coffee a bit. The carpet was maroon coloured. The curtains, white lace. I was happy to have a TV in my room. The walls were painted a creamy white colour. Painting of flowers; beautiful roses. Every rose had its thorn. The closet was near the door so when my dad found me I would hide in there easily. I laid down trying to relax. I was safe or so I thought.

The next morning I woke up to the smell of coffee. I snuck down the hallway to find Brenda talking on the phone with the police. She looked at me then hung up. “They are arresting him at a store as we speak. He just walked in and the police saw him. We will get him” She promised. She kissed my forehead.

“We will have to ask you some questions Ms. Dakota.” I nodded. “When did David first put his hands on you?” The court was spinning. My dad sat across the room from me thank God. I was scared to answer. Anyone who would attack an officer in uniform while getting arrested wouldn’t be too scared to attack me. He mocked me. “Two days ago we got into a fight over me texting in class. He hit me with his bottle then punched me. He also chocked me. “Did you fight back?” “Ya wouldn’t you?” “What happened on the night that you ran away?” “I was scared to go back.” “Did you hit David first?” What a stupid question. “No.” “Is this revenge for David not getting you that TV you wanted.” “No.” I said more surely that time. You do show some signs of bruising and David’s hair follicles were found on you” “David didn’t use excessive force and that evidence is not enough to send my client to jail,” said his lawyer. Brenda showed the pictures of me with bruises. “I think you need to punch someone pretty hard to leave a bruise like this.” She pointed at the endless slide show. “Very true.” I could hear him ask my dad questions. I didn’t listen.

An hour passed. The jury came in with the results. I was so ready to hear them speak. I twitched impatiently. “Will the defendant rise” “We the jury find, David Brock Makin, guilty. “Sentencing will be in 2 short weeks step out.” I was so happy he was going to jail. I could never feel this happy. The emotion took over all my emotions at once. I embraced Brenda. In domestic battery the defendant will come back to court. My dad was so furious, the exact opposite of me. He lunged for the judge grabbing her hair. The cops were right behind him when he pulled out a knife. Brenda was trying to help the police men when my dad jabbed the pocket knife in Brenda’s stomach. I watched Brenda fall to the ground. The stain in her shirt grew larger with more blood loss. I ran to her.

“Please someone help her! You come here!” I yelled at the police man staring at me. He was talking to his buddy on his walky-talky. I heard a few women and some man run and put Brenda on a stretcher. I looked in her eyes. “You’re going to get through this” I told her. I watched her go through the doors. I felt lonely, worthless and stupid. Why did I get poor Brenda involved in this? I should’ve taken what was in store for me. This was like a flash back from my mom dying in a pool of blood underneath her. Lifeless body vulnerable to the surroundings. I was unable to save her because the murderer’s partner was holding a gun to my head. Brenda had one thing my mom didn’t have. She had me.

Finally I was in the hospital in the hallway waiting so I could come in. I couldn’t sit; I was way too fidgety. “Please come.” The nurse said. I walked to see Brenda alive. She just had stitches put in. She looked so pale she could be Edward Cullen’s sister. “Hey how are you feeling?” “Much better thank you.” I noticed a coffee maker. She didn’t look so well. Then again coffee wouldn’t be such a good idea. I loved her with all my heart. My dad was dead to me.

A few weeks after my dad was locked up. Brenda was my legal guardian from then on. I forgot about my past. The ugliness of abuse is not the victim’s fault only the abuser is at fault. When someone hits you don’t take it because it will just get worse and I knew that. The people that let it continue are either dead or still suffering right now. If you know someone who is being abused tell. I would be dead right now if I hadn’t left my father who is still in jail. I won. He shall never hit me again. Remember this abuse survivors because that’s what you are; the abuser will only hit you if you let them. Don’t! Show them who’s boss. The person doesn’t need to be stronger than you to abuse you so look out! They take away your ability to fight back by manipulating you. Don’t be that dead kid on the news be that alive kid in the court room getting justice. They already want you dead; don’t give them another reason to make it happen. They’ll never hit you again when they’re in the jail and you’re out enjoying all life’s treasures. Don’t forget girls, boys can be abused too. We can abuse them. They’re not all that strong; they just say they are so this sort of thing will never happen to them. But it does all the time so why do they bother? I don’t know. End abuse now before it ends you.