As we entered the city of Manhattan, I looked out my right window and saw the 100 story glass apartment complex we would be living in with my abusive stepfather. We visited often but we finally moved in.
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My little sister is hopping up and down in her seat, full of excitement to finally be living in a big city. I was born here, but when I turned three, we had to move to the country and Lenelle was born on my fourth birthday.
I plug my headphones into my phone and turn on The Black Eyed Peas. I don't want to accept the fact that my mother can't live without him; I don't want to accept the fact that he smokes and drinks in front of us only to slap us and shout at us to leave; I don't want to accept the fact that he has touched me and my sister, but I have to if I am to keep my mother from snapping. We lost our father to a mass murderer. That same guy caused us to move here, and I will get my revenge. He had a crooked nose, crooked face bones, and crooked teeth. No one is that crooked. No one except my stepfather. We pull into the parking garage and he is there to meet us. "Marie! Lora! Lenelle! You made it an hour early!" Clarence greets us. Then why was he here?
"I wish we hadn't," I mumble and he pretends he didn't hear me.
"I would have sent Jacob, but he is finishing Lora's room. Please, come with me!" He leads the way to the messed up elevator, pushing fl100 with his crooked fingers. "Why don't you take those," he gestures at my headphones disgustedly "Out, Dearie." It isn't a question, but I don't take them out.
"I prefer them on, dad." I hate the sound of that on my tongue. I hate that I have to call him that or else there will be "consequences".
"I'm not asking, Dearie." He grabs them and crushes them. "We don't use those here." I glare at him and order another pair online. He pretends not to notice. "So, hon, how is school going?" Those stupid nicknames that only have to do with how much he likes our asses.
"Great!" Lenelle is still hopping up and down, "I have straight A's!" Lie. But If we tell him we have B's or lower, he threatens us with the gun.
"So glad to hear that! And, babe, how is work?" He asks with a sly grin.
"I still don't have a job," Mother sighs, "No one wants to hire me. I wonder why." Me too. I don't say.
We reach the top floor and the elevator dings. Charlie is there to take our stuff. She is very sweet. Poor girl works for him for a 5 dollar an hour wage to keep her mom from dying of starvation. Luckily, she doesn't have to pay for food or pay bills. I can hardly imagine what she has been through. "Jacob is preparing a meal," she says in her soft voice, "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."
"Thank you," I am the only one who says it. Clarence shoos her away and pulls Mom into a side room. I walk off as soon as possible. I don't want to hear what happens next. I notice the rooms are big and only 5 rooms have doors. They are labeled B1, B2, Lora, Lenelle, and Parents. I walk into my room and see a queen sized bed, a closet hidden by 2 sliding mirrors, a dresser with 6 drawers opposite of my closet, a bathroom, a mirror above my dresser, leaf print on 3 of the walls, and the wall opposite my door is glass. All glass. I make a mental note of where everything is.
"Dinner!" Jacob shouts. He has a steady, strong voice. I walk out to the dining room and sit next to Charlie. Her long brown hair in a braid, like usual. Jacob is across from me. He has sandy blonde hair, a muscular frame, strange blue eyes, and a piercing on his left ear. We have been dating over texts and calls for three months now.
We play footsie under the table as dinner is passed around. I don't realize that he only uses one foot. I take my share of chicken and orange sauce, putting the noodles on my saucer. I ignore the conversation and almost stand to go when Charlie chuckles. "What?" I ask.
"Fuck off, girl!" Clarence shouts at me then continues chatting.
Jacob makes the best meals, but he doesn't understand that food won't make me feel less suicidal.