Backing away but still holding her hand, she watched as her ma limped to the toilet. “Mam?” She asked before she could close the door, “Do you need a doctor?”
“I’ll be fine, child. Go. I’ll be down in a wee bit,” she instructed.
Waiting for a few minutes after the shower kicked on, she wanted to make sure her ma would be okay by herself.
Slowly walking back to the kitchen, she was startled when she ran into a hard body. Looking up she saw Da with a cruel smirk on his face. He always seemed angry but never had he put fear in her the way he was now as he stared down at her young face.
“What happened to Mam?” she asked him, her voice slightly shaky.
A menacing smile spread across his lips as he began cracking his knuckles. “Nothing for you to worry about, kid,” he told her. But her eyes were glued to his hands.
Cracked.
Bloody.
Bruised.
“You hit, Mam?” she asked him angrily.
“Sod off you little shit,” he said to her with so much hate in his voice.
Hate directed at her.
She was at a loss. Too shocked to know what to say...to do. Her father had never been the warmest man, but he’d certainly never been mean to her. Not like that.
“Da?” she whispered; her upset clear as a bell. He just watched as the tears dripped gently down her cheeks.
“You got something to say?” he snarled.
She started to back away from him. The anger in his eyes setting them ablaze. She didn’t understand what was wrong with him. Hearing a noise from behind her, she looked back to see her mam tentatively coming down the stairs with a small limp and a hand holding her side.
When the woman finally saw what was happening at the bottom she rushed down, putting her own body in front of Deidre’s. Protecting her. She couldn’t understand what was going on.
“You best teach that bastard child some manners, Maureen.” He growled as he grabbed the delicate arms in front of him, making her cry out in pain.
“Stop it, Da! Stop, you’re hurting her!” she cried out, pulling on her mom’s shirt.
“Shut up, brat!” he screamed at her.
“Bradshaw! You can’t speak to her that way.”
Deidre watched in terror as his face went an ugly shade of red. “Mam?” she whispered in fear just as her out of control da backhanded her ma so hard she hit the floor with a cry of pain. “Mam!” the young girl cried out again, dropping to her knees just as she felt a tug on her hair so sharp it felt like it was being ripped out.
All of a sudden, she was sailing through the air and hitting the wall just a couple of feet away. Dazed, she couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. But she scurried back as pain assaulted her body, then the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer made her cringe.
Closing her eyes tight, she waited for what was to come. With hot breath in her face and a hand gripping her chin so tight it hurt, he demanded, “Open your damn eyes.”
Looking up, she shivered in fear as he told her, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth and mind your business.” At her nod, he had instructed, “Clean her up. She looks like shit,” before walking back out the front door with a slam.
One
Deidre ~ 10 years old
“Deidre Lynne O’Connor get your arse in this house now!” She winced when she heard her dad screaming for her as she was dropped off from school. Barely out of her friend Jemma’s van and he had already started yelling at her.
Sighing, she took her time walking up the steps to their not quite mansion in the middle of Dublin. She hated this house. It reminded her of the one from the American show The Addams Family—all spooky and creaky when no one was home.
“Deidre!” he screamed again. His voice was full of anger now. She wondered what bug crawled up his arse this time. Over the years, since she was six years old to be exact, he’d been progressively getting meaner until her mom had