One More Time

“Mom said she's going to the stor

e tomorrow.”

“That's tomorrow. You need dinner tonight,” I said and forced the money into her hand. “Speaking of which, do you know when mom's getting off work?”

Sierra shrugged and went back to her homework, slipping her headphones back into place. Music was her escape, as it had been mine at her age. I stared at my sister for a long time, watching her study. Sierra was smart, and I prayed every single day that she'd get a scholarship and get into a good school or something. Anything to get her out of this shithole and into a better life.

Nick had his athletic ability which could take him places, and Sierra her brains. I wanted to believe that I only had to do this for a few more years. After that, both of them would be adults. Hopefully they'd both be off at college somewhere, and I'd be free. Free to live my own life and do what I wanted to do. The sound of something heavy crashing down came from the other room, followed by the distinctive noise of something breaking and glass shattering. My dad's voice called out for my mother and I felt my heart sink a little lower in my chest.

“Maria?” he bellowed. “Where the hell are you?”

Sierra looked up from her textbook, a look of fear in her eyes.

“Maybe you should go study in your room,” I said quietly, hoping to avoid drawing our father's attention.

She nodded and quickly picked up all of her things before hustling to the bedroom she shared with Nick. Mom and I also shared a room – dad usually slept in the living room. He had apparently just woken up for the day in a foul mood. Not that it was all that surprising. That was his usual mood.

At least I worked all night and missed most of his angry rantings and ravings about this thing or that thing, about whatever injustice he felt was inflicted upon him, or who was trying to screw him over for one reason or another. My dad hadn't worked in years – not since sustaining an injury that left him in constant and chronic pain. Ever since then, he did nothing around the house but bitch and complain and drive all of us crazy.

“MARIA!” Dad's voice called out, echoing around the house.

I shouted back at him. “She's at work.”

I put my plate in the sink, adding it to the pile already in there. No time to wash dishes now, I just wanted to get the hell out of here. Dad pulled himself into the kitchen and walked over to the sink and grabbed a dirty glass.

I turned and hastily rushed toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there, but he stopped me.

“Where do you think you're going?” he snapped.

“To work,” I said.

“Dressed like that?”

I turned and found Dad somewhat sober – which was a rarity – leaning against the kitchen sink. His hair had gone gray a few years ago, and now it looked like it was falling out in patches. His eyes were sunken in, the dark circles beneath them seemed permanent, and deep lines were etched into his face. He looked rough. Hardened.

Drinking and drugs aged a person prematurely. That wasn't a secret. Seeing it up close and personal though, that only seemed to drive the point home even more. If seeing my dad looking twenty years older than he actually was wasn't a deterrent for me to avoid drugs and alcohol, I didn't know what was.

“It's my work uniform,” I said.

“Oh, so my daughter is a hooker now,” he sneered. “Great.”

“I'm not a –” I stopped right there and bit back the scathing reply that was on my lips.

Clenching my fists at my side, I reminded myself that it would do no good to argue with him. He enjoyed tearing us down. Enjoyed getting a rise out of us. This was entertainment for him. This was how he liked to spend his day. Which, of course, was a testament to just how sad and small his life had become. I turned on my heel, ready to head out that door, but his voice stopped me. Again.

“I always knew you'd be a whore,” he said, a sneer even in his voice. “Always did like the boys a little too much.”

Tears burned in my eyes, but I was determined to not let them fall. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing his words affected me. It's what he craved. I hesitated at the door, still considering turning around and giving him a piece of my mind. But, I knew that's what he wanted and that it would only leave me in tears. I had to get to work. I couldn't show up with my makeup streaming down my face, nor could I afford to be that upset and emotionally volatile on the floor. Not after Leon had given me a final warning about my attitude.

I couldn't deal with him. Not today. I was too tired after working six days in a row – and with at least three more days to go before I'd get a day off. Stupid special event. But, at least the pay was good. At least the rent was paid for the next month. At least I had money to give to Sierra for food, because God knew, Dad wasn't going to feed them.

The echo of sirens drifted down the street as I walked out of the building. Part of me would love to say ‘fuck it all’, keep on walking and never turn back. But, then a car pulled up and my little brother Nick climbed out of the backseat, a huge smile on his face. He was getting so big that some days, I still couldn't believe he was my little brother. As I looked at him, I knew I could never walk out on them. No matter how much I loathed my dad and living where we were. I reminded myself as I looked at him, that I only had a few more years until I could be free of all of this.

A few more years, I told myself, feigning a smile for my little brother as we passed each other in the driveway. Just a few more years and I could leave this shithole forever.

~ooo000ooo~

“You look tired, Casey,” Tommy said as I clocked in for work.