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Everly
As I walk up to the front door of the house that I live in with my father, I hear voices. I hate it when he has friends over. They are usually drunk by the time I get home from work. The people he surrounds himself with are shady, and I don’t feel comfortable around them.
The voice I hear coming from inside is one that I know, and I get a shiver that runs down my spine. It’s my father’s friend Oliver. This guy really gives me the creeps. He’s been hanging around more and more lately. I don’t know what those two are up to, but it’s never good when they are hanging around together.
My father is not a good man. He likes to drink, smoke, and gamble. He doesn’t keep jobs, and when he does, the money gets drunk or gambled away. He has gotten us into some bad situations over the last couple of years. Situations that I usually end up having to pay our way out of.
I graduated high school almost two years ago, and I’m now twenty years old. I wanted to go to college, but my father wouldn’t allow it. I also couldn’t afford it. I have been working since I was old enough, but I don’t get to spend my money on frivolous things like a normal girl my age. My father ends up taking whatever I have after paying the rent and lights. We barely have food in the house most days, but always have his beer.
I’ve worked a double shift over at the local grocery store and have been standing on my feet from sunup to sundown. Now, all I want is to come home and put something in my empty stomach, take a hot shower, and go to bed. My feet hurt, and my muscles are tired. I am exhausted, and I have a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t eaten a bite since I woke up this morning. I am thankful that I saved a pack of instant noodles for me to eat tonight. I put them on the back shelf of the pantry so that my dad and his friends didn’t eat them. Believe me, my dad isn’t in need of calories.
I dread walking through the door, but as I turn the knob, the voices stop. My dad is sitting in his tattered recliner, and he looks as if he hasn’t showered in days. His shirt has grease and sweat stains. His hair is unkempt. His eyes are glazed over, and I can tell that he’s been drinking and is already drunk. He also has a coffee table of empty beer cans sitting in front of him. The putrid smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hit my nose.
His friend Oliver is sitting on the couch, and as I meet his eyes, he is looking at me as if I am a juicy piece of meat that he can’t wait to sink his teeth into. I can almost feel his eyes roving over my body and landing on my breasts. Just the thought of his touch makes me nauseous.
“Aren’t you going to greet our guest, Everly?” my father sneers.
I know to walk on eggshells when he’s been drinking, which is all the time lately, but I refuse to play into his games with his disgusting friends. Most of them obviously don’t have jobs because they are always here during the day and sometimes during the night. They all seem to look dirty and haggard.
“I am exhausted, Dad.” I sigh as I hurry to leave the room. My legs feel heavy, and I am lethargic, probably from not eating since yesterday.
I walk past the living room, where they are sitting, and continue to the kitchen. I am determined to avoid their drama tonight. As soon as I see the kitchen, my heart falls. The sink has dirty dishes. The table has a couple of empty beer cans and an empty pizza box. I don’t understand how they dirty so many dishes when there is no food in the house to eat. They buy pizza but don’t save a single slice for me. Truth be known, it was probably paid for with my hard-earned money. I scoff but know there is no use in complaining.
That’s fine. I don’t mind eating my pack of ramen noodles. As I slide into the pantry and reach into the back of the shelf where I hid them, I come up empty-handed. They are missing. I walk over to the sink, and there is a bowl full of ramen sitting in it. It has water from the sink in it. There is a smoked cigarette butt in the bowl and ashes on the noodles. It’s inedible now. My stomach lets out a growl, and I get a pain in my center. I guess I’m going to bed hungry another night. I’m already too frail and thin, losing weight in areas that I don’t have the extra weight to lose.
Anger shoots through my veins as I throw the trash from the counters and table away and wash the dishes in the sink. I wipe off the counters and table, then fill a glass full of ice-cold tap water. I drink as much as I can chug down to stop the hunger pains that are hitting my stomach.
I have to walk back by the living room to get to my room, and as I do, the two men have their heads close together, whispering. They both stop and eye me as I hurriedly scuttle past them.
Once I’m in my room, I let out a breath. Now, if I can just get my hot shower and get some rest, I can put this day behind me. The one blessing I have is that we do have hot water. After a tiring day and sore muscles, it’s a luxury for me to be able to take a long shower. I have some expensive shower gel stashed away that I found on clearance and decided since I’m going to be hungry again, I will give myself a treat. I found a brand that smelled like cherry blossoms. It’s my favorite scent.
As the hot water beats down on my shoulders and tired muscles, I tilt my head back to wet my hair. I don’t splurge on myself a lot, but my shampoo is a sweet but light cherry fragrance that I love. I hurry and rinse my long, dark brown hair. It’s one of the features I have that I actually like. Otherwise, I am very plain-looking. That’s not a bad thing because it helps me blend in and become invisible.
I condition my hair and finish washing off before wrapping a threadbare towel around my body and returning to my room. I startle at the sight of Oliver sitting on my bed.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
I put on more bravery than I actually feel at the moment because I know Oliver is a dangerous man. Not only that, but he’s also made it clear from his needy looks what he wants from me.
Oliver Frank is a short man a bit older than my father. They hang out and drink together as well as bet at the horse track. He’s got a beer gut, chubby cheeks, and a red nose, probably from consuming a diet of alcohol and cigarettes. There is nothing pretty about this man, but what’s most important is that he’s not a nice man. You can feel the vileness seeping from his pores.
“I said, why the fuck are you on my bed, Oliver? If you need to pass out, stay on the couch.”
“Princess, you need to start paying up. Paying your way around here.” He looks at me hungrily as water drips down my body around the towel I’m wrapped in.
My nausea comes back in full swing as I can feel the bile rise in my throat. I understand exactly what he expects me to do.
“Paying my way? Paying my way? I pay for my father to sit at home on his ass and drink beer with you and the other trash he hangs around with. I pay for the beer that you drink when you are here.”
“Little girl, don’t get loud with me. You owe me, and I’m going to get my payment.”
He starts to move toward me, and for every step that he takes, I take a step back toward the door. He continues to spew his vile words at me.
“You prance around here like the little whore that you are, and now I am going to take what I’m owed.”
I notice that I am no longer able to move, and my body is flat against the bedroom door. Now his spittle is splashing me in the face. His breath is putrid and smells of alcohol and decay.
Oliver reaches down to the top of my towel to pull it from around my body. Taking a step back I avoid losing the towel. I decide my best bet is to yell for my dad.
