Beautifully Broken 4: Until We Fly

Each morning, she kisses me awake, her hair falling onto my face.

Today, after breakfast, I venture outside while she works from her laptop at the table. I make my way down to the gazebo that sits near the beach.

Dropping onto a bench, I stare at the lake.

More specifically, I stare at the large buoy floating a hundred yards out.  The bell dings with the breeze, as the moss covered buoy tilts to and fro on the waves.

A shudder runs through me.

As I stare at it, I don’t even see it anymore.  Instead, in my head, I’m a boy again.  And I still hear the dinging of that f**king bell.

I glance at the clock.  Three a.m.

There’s only one person who would come for me at three a.m.

I swallow hard, the acidic taste of bile rising in my throat.  It won’t go down, so I swallow harder, and the footsteps come closer.

My hands twist in the sheets, forming a fist….a fist that I know I won’t use.  I’m only twelve and he outweighs me by a hundred pounds.

I grit my teeth, flexing my jaw.

My bedroom door opens.

His shadow fills up my doorway, falling onto the floor. In the blackness, his shadow resembles the monster he is.

“Get out here,” he growls.

I force myself to succumb to numbness as I climb from bed.  It’s the only way I survive it… this… my life.

He grabs my arm, dragging me down the hall. Every other door remains closed, tight and dark.  Like always, no one will come to my rescue.

I’m alone.

I’m used to it.

One foot after the other, I make the long walk.  When the cold air hits my face, I don’t even flinch.  My bare feet burn from the snow.  I still don’t react.

All I do… all I can ever do… is brace myself for the pain.

It comes quickly.

My father backhands me hard, hard enough that I go flying into the frozen sand and I taste blood.

“Get up,” my father snarls, alcohol on his breath.  He’s been at the bar, again.  It’s always when he comes home trashed that he drags me out here.

I stagger to my feet, and the world whirls around me.  I see two of my father, before I blink and they blend back into one.

“Swim out and ring the bell,” he demands.

I shake my head. “The lake is almost frozen,” I tell him.  “I can’t.”

My father’s face contorts.  “You’re such a little chicken shit,” he growls, backhanding the side of my head.  I cup my ear with my hand and feel the blood as it trickles down my neck.  It’s warm.

“It’s your fault she’s dead,” he tells me, his words as stark as the frozen lake.  “And it should’ve been you.”

He hits me again, and this time, I don’t get up.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Nora tells me softly, coming up from behind.  She lays her hand on my shoulder and I glance up, trying to shake the old memories away.

“They aren’t worth a penny,” I tell her.  And I mean it.  She eyes me curiously, then stares out at the buoy.

“Thinking about your dad’s will?”

No.

“Yeah,” I lie.

She bites her lip as she stares into the distance.  “Have you decided if you’ll do it?”

I haven’t even thought about it.

“I probably will,” I tell her.  “My mom wasn’t the best mother, but even she deserves something for staying married to my father for so long.”

Nora glances at me.  “But do you deserve to have to be the one who gives it to her?”

I shrug. “I’m just going for a swim.  No big deal.”

She eyes me doubtfully. “But you hate to swim.”

I nod.  “Yeah, I do. But it won’t kill me.”

Nora can’t see the way my palms go clammy at the thought.  Because damnit, Brand.  Quit being a pu**y.

Nora smiles at me.  “The UPS driver was just here.  You got something from Gabe.”

My tux.  I’d called and asked Gabe’s wife Maddy to ship it.  They’ve got a key to my place.

“Ah,” I tell her.  “Good. It’s Friday and I need something to wear.”

Nora’s face instantly clouds over and I regret mentioning it.  But it is Friday. She’s got to face it sometime, because the dinner is tonight.

“I’m sure your dad will be very happy to see me,” I tell her drolly.  She actually laughs at that.

“I’m sure,” she agrees with a grin.  “Don’t be surprised if he hugs you.”

“With his fist,” I nod.  She giggles again.

“He wouldn’t have the balls,” she tells me.

She’s probably right.  I could saw the fear hidden in his careful expression the other day.

We get up and walk back to the house, and as we cross the threshold of the living room, I can’t help but look at the f**king wooden box that my dad left for me.  It mocks me.

Nora follows my gaze.

“What do you think is in it?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I can’t imagine.”

“Do you want to know?”

“I don’t know that, either,” I’m honest again.  “Part of me is curious. Part of me just wants to burn it without looking.  I don’t really care what he has to say to me.”

Nora stops in her tracks and is perfectly still as she watches me.  “What did he do to you?” she asks quietly.

I shake my head. “It’s not worth talking about anymore. He’s gone.  And he took his hatefulness with him.”

Nora takes a step, and puts her hand on my chest, feather-light, directly over my heart.

“He didn’t take it all,” she observes.  “Part of it still lives on in here.”  She taps on my heart.  “He put those scars there, Brand.  Somehow.  You’ve got to figure out how to get those scars off.”

“I’ve heard vitamin E oil works,” I tell her glibly, without acknowledging what she said.  She rolls her eyes.

“I’m serious.  Deal with it and put it to bed, Brand.  Whatever he did to you, he can never do it again.  Because he’s gone.”

“He is,” I agree. “But so is my sister.”

Why did I just say that?  The words came out before I could stop them.

Nora’s head snaps up.