Dad

My dad got arrested yesterday. Yesterday I failed a test and it killed my grade. He got the report card and saw the grade. He got mad at me. Came in my room. He was screaming. His breath stunk like beer. My mom wasn’t home. She wouldn’t have done anything anyway. Sandra would have protected me. He had his belt with the big deer buckle. I couldn’t get past him even if I tried. I had run into the forest once when I was a kid. Twelve stitches. I knew better. I was sitting on my bed. It was cold. Yesterday was 81 degrees. He grabbed my throat. He dragged me off my bed to the floor. A bit of my neck got caught between two of the wood tiles and was torn off. I didn’t notice I was bleeding. His spit dropped onto my nose. Didn’t travel far. Shouted at me that I was a disgrace to the family. That I’m not enough of a man to carry on our pure bloodline. Shouted at me that I would die if I disrespected him one more time. Punched me twice. Once in the gut and I bit my lip too hard. I had to. He punched me on my cheek hard. I felt tears. He had always told me to not be a pussy. He grabbed my neck with both hands. I wasn’t ready. He was laughing. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like when you’re dreaming. I thought I wasn’t awake. The door opened loudly. Shouting. He yelled at me that I ratted him out. I didn’t feel his hands. I didn’t open my eyes. A police officer woke me up. He gave me the whistle. He told me that it was okay. I heard my dad outside yelling. He told me that my dad wouldn’t hurt me. He told me that it was okay to cry. I didn’t. He gave me a blanket and sat me on my bed. He told me that I could keep the blanket. I asked how they came here so fast. He told me that they had a microphone inside of my whistle. He said it was always active and that he liked my music taste. My dad is waiting in his cell. He can’t afford a lawyer. I had a Father’s day gift in my closet. I can’t give it to him. It was an ABBA poster. He introduced me to ABBA.

I threw away that blanket.