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NOVEMBER 30TH 1999
JOEY
With the soundof my own pulse thundering in my ears, I kept my eyes trained on my bedroom floor, and concentrated on my breathing, on the cracks in the skirting board, on the freshly burrowed hole in my sock, on anythingbutthe asshole pounding and demanding to get in.
"Open this door, boy, and I'll put manners on ya!"
"Useless little cunt, just like your brother."
"Not such a big man now, are you, ya little prick!"
"Get your hole out here, ya little bollox, before I break the fucking door down!"
My heart was racing violently in my chest, every inch of my body was battered and bruised, and while I knew my mam was out there and defenseless, I honest to God didn’t have it in me to go another round with the man she called her husband.
Not when he'd gotten the better of me so easily tonight.
Swallowing the blood that was trickling down the back of my throat, I twisted my head to the side, and considered my options.
Fight.
Die.
Run.
Die.
Tell.
Die.
Hide.
Die.
Die.
Die.
After spending a selfish amount of time contemplating taking a knife to my wrists, I clenched my eyes shut and locked every muscle in my body tight until my entire frame shook from the tension.
Don’t do it, lad.
It's not your turn yet.
Don't give him the satisfaction of checking out.
Think of the others.
Desperate to distract myself from the temptation, I held my breath and concentrated on why I couldn’t leave this house.
On why I had to stay.
Shannon. Tadhg. Ollie…
Shannon. Tadhg. Ollie…
Shannon. Tadhg. Ollie …
