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There are a plethora of possibilities, so I try not to get too worried as I buckle up and prepare to back out of my parking space.
I look both ways, and it’s clear. There’s only one person on the other side, but I have plenty of room to back out, so I do. Out of nowhere, that man’s behind my car. He starts cussing up a storm and throws his hands in the air.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, lady!”
You’ve got to be shitting me. I throw my car in park, unbuckle my seatbelt, and get out of my car. “Why the fuck did you cross over and get behind me when I know you damn well saw my reverse lights on!”
“Fuck you!” he hollers.
“Fuck you too, bitch!” I scream back.
I’m never in the mood for stuff like this, but today, I’mreallynot in the mood.
He huffs and walks off, leaving me to get back in my car. This time, I triple-check that no one is behind me or has a sudden death wish to get run over, and then I back out. I make my way out of the parking lot and head over to my mom’s house.
My mother lives in somewhat of a desolate area, back down a long dirt driveway in a smaller farmhouse. It takes me about thirty minutes to get on her road, and I drive down until I turn left into her driveway.
I’m not going to spend too much time here because I have my own groceries, and let’s face it, I’m over today.
I get out of my Hyundai Elantra and grab the three bags of groceries I got for my mom. One of them is a cold bag with her favorite ice cream: Rocky Road. I know she’ll be so happy I got her some. She’s been watching her sugar lately, but she’s entitled to a treat every once in a while.
I look up at my childhood home, and it fills me with a sense of nostalgia. While not every memory I have here was a good one, the good outweighed the bad. It’s an old, two-story white farmhouse that sits on a few acres. The paint has faded over the years, giving it a charming and rustic look. The front porch has a swing on one end of it, draped with an old quilt my mom made when I was a kid.
If I shut my eyes for a moment, it’s like I’m taken back in time. I can see myself sitting on that swing with my mother while we waited for Dag to walk down the driveway from school. It feels like it was just yesterday.
The windows of the farmhouse are framed by sun-faded red shutters, which match the barn out back. They’ve seen better days, and when we were kids, we would help Mom paint the place, keep it looking nice, and do whatever else we could do. Though, these days it’s become a lot harder. Especially since Dag lives so far away.
A scream pulls me out of my thoughts, and I go rushing into the house. The front door is wide open, and my eyes land on the ghost of a man I prayed I’d never see again. “Get out of my house! They said you changed, that you found the Lord, but you haven’t. You’re still the same, self-centered, conniving man I divorced.”
Loren cackles manically. It takes me back to my childhood. He’d laugh in the same sadistic way every time he was about to go after my mother. “Yeah, you’re right about that, Mary. I only stuck to the religious bullshit to get the fuck outta that hellhole. I was dead set on coming here and making you pay for getting me locked up. You dumb, stupid cunt.”
“Get the fuck out.” I seethe, not allowing my tone to waver. I’m not the same scared little girl Loren was used to dealing with. I don’t hide in cupboards, closets, or in the attic anymore. “Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, he tried to attack me!”
He turns around slowly, a sinister smirk dragging across his lips. “Now, you weren’t the brightest when I was taken away from you, baby girl, but I’d like to think you’re at least a little smarter these days.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “First of all, fuck you. You have no right to come in here in the first place. You’re not allowed to be within five hundred feet of her.”
He chuckles lightly. “Yeah, ‘cause my parole officer can see me here, huh?”
“Loren, get out. Do what’s right and leave before you do something you’ll regret.” I place the grocery bags down, knowing deep in my gut things are going to go awry.
“The only thing I regret is not killing you all when I had the chance.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I take a step back, trying not to allow my hands to tremble. Memories of Loren’s cruelty flood through my mind like a broken dam. They overtake everything, even the only bit of confidence and strength I have right now.
The endless beatings.
The threats.
The nights where I’d hide while our mother and Dag dealt with the brunt of it.
I prayed for it all to end, but it didn’t until that fateful night.
“Get out,” I say again, keeping my voice steady. He won’t sense an ounce of fear in me, even if I am a little scared.
“Why would I do that? I’m the man of the house, sweetheart. I’m here to remind you of who’s actually in charge.” Loren flips a blade between his fingers. I didn’t have a clue he was armed, and this changes the situation.
