Introduction
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Texaspurplerose72
Chapter 1
W końcu udało mi się zasnąć po sprzątaniu domu, zmywaniu naczyń, praniu, przygotowywaniu obiadu i położeniu moich braci i siostry do łóżka, nie wspominając o odrobieniu lekcji. Mam na jutro do oddania ważną pracę, którą właśnie skończyłam. Zrobienie tego wszystkiego z trzema trzylatkami biegającymi wokół nie jest najłatwiejsze. Właśnie zapadłam w głęboki sen, kiedy zostałam wyrwana z łóżka i zaciągnięta po schodach. Cholera, to zostawi kilka siniaków. „Co to za gówno?” Moja matka krzyknęła na mnie. „Twój ojciec zaraz wróci, posprzątaj to gówno!” Krzyknęła, rzucając mnie do kuchni. „Po pierwsze, to ty zrobiłaś ten bałagan, miałam wszystko na błysk, więc powinnaś posprzątać po sobie, a po drugie, on NIE jest moim OJCEM!” Warknęłam. Moja matka odchyliła się i uderzyła mnie tak mocno, że aż polała się krew, a ja upadłam na podłogę. Potrząsnęłam lekko głową, próbując odzyskać równowagę. „ON jest twoim OJCEM! Teraz posprzątaj to gówno zanim wróci.” Wrzasnęła i wybiegła z kuchni do swojego pokoju. To nie pierwszy raz, kiedy to zrobiła; wracała do domu, robiła bałagan i mówiła mu, że nie zrobiłam żadnych obowiązków. Moja mama nie jest tak zła jak on, on potrafi być wręcz diabelski. Raz pobił mnie tak mocno, że ledwo mogłam się ruszać, a to oczywiście oznaczało, że nie mogłam sprzątać, gotować ani zajmować się trojaczkami, co pogarszało sytuację i prowadziło do kolejnego bicia. Musiałam zmusić się do wstania, żeby wszystko zrobić. W końcu wpadłam w rutynę i udawało mi się wszystko załatwić, nawet w dni, kiedy moja mama wracała do domu w kiepskim humorze.
Byłam w trakcie sprzątania bałaganu, który zrobiła moja mama, kiedy ON wszedł do kuchni. „Co to za gówno? Dlaczego nic nie jest posprzątane!” Usłyszałam jego ryk. Już byłam wkurzona na mamę, więc to nie wróżyło mi nic dobrego. „Było posprzątane, dopóki twoja żona nie wróciła do domu i nie zdecydowała, że jej dzień nie jest kompletny, dopóki nie zrobi mojego do dupy!” Warknęłam, moje słowa były pełne jadu. „Co powiedziałaś?!” Warknął. Zobaczyłam, jak jego oczy zmieniają kolor z brązowego na czarny. Zawsze tak robił, kiedy się wściekał. „Słyszałeś mnie, nie jąkałam się.” Krzyknęłam na niego, kończąc sprzątanie po mojej mamie. „Nigdy więcej nie mów tak o swojej matce!” Krzyknął, a następne, co poczułam, to ból przeszywający moją szyję. Upadłam na kolana, chwytając się za tył głowy. Próbowałam wstać, ale jego pięść uderzyła mnie w prawą stronę twarzy. „Masz okazywać nam szacunek!” Warknął, stojąc nade mną. „Mówiłam ci, że nie będzie zadowolony.” Mama szyderczo powiedziała. „Chodź Freddy kochanie, jestem zmęczona, to był długi dzień.” Powiedziała, ocierając się o niego, to takie obrzydliwe. Przyciągnął ją do swojej piersi, a ona zamruczała w jego ramionach. Dała mu swój, jak to nazywa, seksowny uśmiech i wyszła z kuchni, kołysząc biodrami. „Nie chcę tu widzieć żadnej krwi rano. Rozumiesz?” Krzyknął. Nie odpowiedziałam, więc powtórzył swoje słowa, a on nienawidził powtarzać się. „ROZUMIESZ.” Warknął. „NIE KAŻ MI SIĘ POWTARZAĆ.” Warknął, stojąc nade mną, a ja skinęłam głową.
Kiedy w końcu skończyłam sprzątać kuchnię, znowu, poszłam do łóżka, modląc się, że uda mi się przespać kilka godzin, zanim zadzwoni budzik. Budzik zadzwonił o piątej rano, jęknęłam i go wyłączyłam. Poszłam do łazienki najciszej, jak mogłam, ponieważ trojaczki spały w moim pokoju. Załatwiłam się, wzięłam prysznic, umyłam zęby i zaczęłam próbować ukryć siniaki na twarzy. Były trochę ciemniejsze niż zwykle, więc nie udało mi się ich całkowicie zakryć. Zrobiłam, co mogłam. Wyszłam z łazienki, aby znaleźć moje maluchy szeroko obudzone i cicho siedzące, czekające na mnie. Fred nauczył je, żeby nie płakały, nie krzyczały ani nie robiły scen. Bił mnie na ich oczach, kiedy źle się zachowywały, i mówił im, że jeśli będą to kontynuować, zrobi to samo im. Wystarczyło, że zobaczyły, jak mnie bije raz, i już nigdy nie pisnęły ani słówka. Zawsze wzięłabym na siebie bicie dla nich; najmniejszy pisk radości wprawiał ich oboje w szał. Wyobraź sobie, że pisk szczęścia ich dzieci doprowadza ich do wściekłości.
„Stowme.” Usłyszałam, jak Ryder woła cicho. „Dzień dobry, moje małe skarby. Czy dobrze spałyście?” zapytałam, pomagając im wstać z łóżka i postawiłam je na podłodze. Pokiwały głowami z ziewnięciami. „Chodźcie, musimy was umyć i przebrać z piżamek.” powiedziałam im, gdy szły do łazienki. Nancy nigdy się nimi nie zajmowała, poza pierwszymi sześcioma miesiącami po ich narodzinach była dobrą mamą i myślałam, że może się zmieni, ale gdy skończyły sześć miesięcy, wróciła do pracy i zaczęła wracać późno. Fred przeniósł ich rzeczy do mojego pokoju i powiedział, że teraz są moim problemem i odpowiedzialnością, że teraz to moje dzieci. Zanim zdążyłam przygotować naszą czwórkę, była już szósta trzydzieści. Zabrałam je na dół, spakowałam ich przekąski, kubeczki niekapki, wzięłam nasze plecaki i cicho wyszliśmy z domu. Fred i Nancy jeszcze spali, spali, dopóki nie zdecydowali się wstać. Oboje pracowali wieczorami do wczesnych godzin porannych, co zazwyczaj działało, ponieważ rzadko musieliśmy się widywać, chyba że Nancy była w jednym ze swoich nastrojów lub przypadkowo spotkałam się z jednym z nich.
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Author Note:New book out now! The River Knows Her Name
Mystery, secrets, suspense—your next page-turner is here.
About Author

Texaspurplerose72
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