Rage swirled inside me as I dragged my feet down the hall. I hated him. I knew we weren't supposed to hate anyone, but I hated him. The more I heard him yell at my mom, the deeper the hatred grew.
But I couldn't do a damn thing about it.
The swear words weren't funny now. I meant them. Meant them as much as I'd ever meant anything.
And it was all because I couldn't do anything except listen to Dad scream and call her horrible names. Then I heard him yelling at Madison too, and the hall got longer, went on further, forever and forever.
I didn't want to hear him yelling at Maddie. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was just being a kid.
Why couldn't we just be kids?
It was so damn unfair!
Then I heard something else, a different sound. And I shouldn't have been able to hear it, not as far away as I was. But I did. And I knew what it was.
The thump of flesh against flesh. A cry of pain.
I couldn't tell if it was Mom or Madison, and I knew there was nothing I could do, but I also knew I couldn't just let it happen.
I started to run, determined to burst in, to at least distract him. He'd hit me, I knew. Maybe even break some bones. I could take it though. Madison couldn't.
I ran forever, putting each foot in front of the other, but I stayed in the same place. I didn't feel like I was standing still, but I had to be since I couldn't get any closer.
I kept hearing them, blows coming down over and over. Madison and Mom crying. Screaming in pain. But the door didn't get any closer. I couldn't get to it. Couldn't stop him from hurting them.
I couldn't protect them.
He was going to kill them...
I jerked awake, heart racing, drenched in sweat.
“Fuck me!” I swore as I ripped off the covers and jumped to my feet. “Fuck!”
I ran my hands through my hair, grateful I'd decided to spring for a hotel room after I'd left Nance's place. Yet another reason why I rarely stayed the night with anyone. Soldiers didn't really think much of nightmares. And we didn't talk about them either. No one wanted to force a fellow soldier to relive the things that plagued him when he closed his eyes.
Sure, sometimes I had nightmares about things I'd done as a soldier, but not very often. Most of the time, when something haunted me, it was from further back. Like tonight – way back.
I looked at the clock. Not even five.
I knew myself well enough to know I'd never get back to sleep. Nearly a decade in the military meant I'd have been getting up in a bit anyway. No matter how much leave I had, I'd never been able to sleep for more than a few minutes past the time I normally woke up.
I couldn't stay here though. Check out wasn't until ten, but I didn't want to just sit around here and wait, stare at the television. I'd come back before then so I could get my things packed up, but for right now, I needed to be somewhere else.
I pulled on my jeans from where I'd left them on the floor, then my shirt. I didn't care if they were dirty. It wasn't like I was going for a booty call or something. I stuck my feet into my shoes and headed out. I'd been in San Antonio a while, but not to this part of the city. This seemed like as good a time as any to explore.
It was nice weather tonight. Cool, almost chilly, but to my overheated skin, it felt good. I picked a direction at random and went with it. I'd always had a good sense of direction, so I knew I'd be able to find my way back, even if I didn't pay too much attention to my surroundings.
I didn't want to pay attention, didn't want to think about anything. Except I knew that wasn't going to happen. My head was too busy, too full to not think.
And it was all the wrong things to think about.
The elements of my nightmare wanted to come back, wanted to remind me of all the little facts that had been hidden in the distortion of memory. And there were plenty of them.
The sounds of him yelling and hitting. Those had been real.
The dread in my stomach every time I'd come home after playing with friends, knowing he'd be there.
The way I'd had to fake things to keep people from figuring out the truth.
All of those were real memories.
What wasn't real was my failure to get to them in time. Sometimes I wasn't there, but when I was, I got between them. Stopped him from hurting them. Got myself hurt in the process.
But I'd always gotten there.
And he hadn't killed them.
No, the fucking bastard had left before he managed that.
The only decent thing he'd ever done was walk out that day and never come back.
I didn't know what happened to him, but I hoped he'd died in a painful and slow manner, preferably getting the shit beat out of him.
Because it hadn't done us a damn bit of good.
He'd left, and they'd died anyway.
Both of them. Mom and Madison. My whole family. Gone.
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and tipped my head back, looking up at the stars. I needed to stop my thoughts before they went any further down that path. My past was far darker than the sky, and if I got lost in it, I didn't know what would happen.