Chapter 2 - Joanne

What a sweet little family.

Pulling back the curtain of my kitchen window, I watched Michelle as she carried her son back home. My heart ached for them; such a kind woman, overshadowed by the presence of an evil man. It had been decades since dealing with my own father, but that wound was a deep one.

The kettle on the stove began to whistle, bringing me back to reality as I prepared my evening tea. Jasper, my newest kitten, jumped up on the counter for some affection, nudging his head against my hand as I placed the mug down.

“Is this what you want?” I scratched his chin as he purred, closing his eyes. “You’re such a spoiled little thing, aren’t you?” I reached across the counter for the small bag of cat treats, bumping the mug off of the edge as I pulled my hand back. It hit the kitchen floor with a loud crash, sending Jasper scrambling for safety. Staring at the ceramic shards scattered across the linoleum, I could feel my chest begin to tighten. I slowed my breathing in an attempt to ease the anxiety washing over me, but I was spiraling before I could stop it.

June 17th, 1968 - 5:38 pm

I ran into my bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind me and praying that the feeble lock on the doorknob would keep it closed. I could hear his voice as the back door slammed shut.

“JOANNE! What was that sound? Did you break somethi-” It went quiet. He had seen it.

Panicking, I pushed aside the toys scattered on the floor and slid under the twin-size bed in the corner of the room. I tried to control my breathing, just like mama showed me when I was little and got scared. Just take deep breaths and count to five, nice and slow. I squeezed my eyes shut.

One…

I could hear his work boots stomping through the house. I pushed myself further under the bed. I knew the bedroom door wouldn’t protect me for very long; Daddy was angry. As soon as the shot glass hit the floor, I knew I would be in trouble.

Two…

“Where are you?! Don’tchu hide from me…” Daddy's slurred voice echoed off of the walls. He had been sitting outside for a while, which meant he was probably a few drinks in. Maybe if I stay out of sight long enough, he’ll go back to drinking and pass out... The dust bunnies that lived under my bed brushed against my skin as I slid myself closer to the wall, pushing the assortment of forgotten toys in front of me. Maybe they would shield me from view if he looked under the bed.

Three…

The bedroom door exploded open, bouncing against the adjacent wall with a loud bang. I threw my hands over my mouth to stifle the yelp that escaped my lips; hopefully he didn’t hear it. I tried to push myself further under the bed, but my back met the cool surface of the wall. There was nowhere else for me to go.

“Come out now and I won’t be mad…” Daddy’s voice became low and even, his silhouette visible from my hiding place. The hall light cast his shadow across the floor, and I could make out the shape of the belt he held folded in his hand. The light clicked on, and I could see his legs clearly now. His dirty jeans were covered with splotches of paint, much like the boots on his feet. “Let me remind you what happens when you break things in my house, little girl.” The rage was audible in his voice as his boots made their way towards the bed, kicking stray toys out of the way as they passed. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn’t let myself cry; he would hear me. I watched as his boots came even closer, stopping at the edge of the bed. I held my breath.

Four…

Suddenly, I was cast into the light, my hiding place was stripped away as my father flipped the bed frame and mattress on its side. Screaming, I shielded my head. I was trapped.

“You think you can hide? You think you can outsmart your daddy and I won’t find you?” His body swayed ever so slightly. There was nothing I could do to save myself now, except to wait for what was already coming. “I’ll teach you to break things in this house.” The first blow made contact with my thigh, my small voice wailing in pain as I tried to curl up tighter. I had grown accustomed to the belt; he used it often. What I wasn’t prepared for was the steel toe boot that made contact with my head, as everything faded to black.

Gasping for air, I was back on the kitchen floor. Tears soaked my face and shirt as I uncurled my body, the shards of the broken mug strewn on the floor around me. My heart was ready to beat out of my chest, as the room spun around me. It had been so many years since my father had been the black storm cloud over my life; the flashbacks had lessened over time, but the fear still felt so real. I knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore, though.

I made sure of it.