Temper

I accidentally ended up writing this story when I was typing my last blog post. This blog isn't really the right place to share it but I'm not really sure where is. I apologise if you came here looking for naughty stories, but you will not find anything of the sort in this tale. Parts of it are taken from my own life experiences whilst other parts are fiction. This is also the first short story that I've ever written. I would greatly appreciate any feedback that can be given.

The young teen stands still, her back against the wall. She opens her mouth to defend herself but her young voice is quickly overpowered by the deep voice of the man in front of her. The man moves within inches of her face, screaming at the top of his lungs. Spit lands on the girls face and arms as the man screams and she is clearly able to pick the false teeth from the real. He holds her roughly by her upper arm, pinning the girl in place with the strength of a man thirty years her senior. She struggles like a person possessed. 'The little bitch' knows she can escape her fathers grasp, she just has to reach the nearest escape route. 

She tears herself free. Mother and Siblings block the doorways. She stares around in panic, trying to keep out of her fathers reach. The only way out is past her Father, Mother or Siblings. Three exits. An eleven and a nine year old blocking one of them. Why? Because Daddy told them too. Mother at the front door. Father screaming, yet blocking the third exit at the same time. 

She won't be able to go past the siblings. She know's from past experience just how capable of hurting them she is. More so now that pure rage is flowing from every cell in her strong body. She likes Mother too, knows she's also only doing what she is told, even though Mother always denies that fact. 

It's Father then. The girl knows she cannot really hurt him. Strong as she is she has none of the muscle that a lifetime of physical work will bring a person. She doesn't duck and weave. She doesn't beg and plead. She thinks only of her escape, of the freedom she knows she will have if only she can reach the back door. She has no time or distance for a run-up. She charges towards her Father only hoping that he is unable to grab a firm hold of her as she passes. 

She is lucky. The girl is able to tear her jacket free of his clutching hands and she sprints away, through the back door and out into the fresh afternoon air. She runs. She keeps running. Over the fence and through the vegetable garden. Over the next fence and into the nearest group of trees. 

She can hear her family behind her. The young girl climbs the nearest tree, an apple, to the highest point that the tree will support her. She stays up there, watching her parents pass underneath. She has learnt that people never look up.

She remains there all afternoon, listening to them call her name. She watches the darkness desend, feeling the chill of the autumn air, noticing the ceasing of the search. She begins to feel her heart calm itself and the fear recede. 

The girls sister, gangly and awkward in her pre-teen years, yet retaining the look of a young child, stands beneath the branches of the apple tree and looks up at her older sister. In a whisper the young girl begins to plead.

‘Jess? Please come down now? It's okay. Daddy won't yell. He's watching TV with Mummy. They've forgotten about all of it. Just come inside. We don't even have to say your back. Please Jess. Please come home? Please.’

Jess listens to her sister plead. She does know that her sister cares. It saddens her to hear this young child pleading, pleading for her big sister to come home. 

Jess begins to cry again. She knows that she has a temper, she's just like her father. She does terrible things to those she loves when angry. Her siblings should not have to see her like that. 

Jess stays in the tree for what feels like an age before wiping the fresh tears from her face. She climbs down from the darkness and takes her sisters hand, letting the younger girl lead her home.

Their parents see the girls coming. As the two sisters pass little Robin breathes 'I've got her'.

Both Mother and Father watch the girls pass into the darkness, saying nothing.

Robin leads Jess to the bedroom window. The girls climb into the room and Robin plays nurse, tucking her big sister into bed. She turns off the light and quietly closes the door, leaving Jess to her thoughts.

Jess pulls her blankets tightly around her, safely cocooned in their warmth. She knows that when she wakes in the morning everybody will pretend nothing has happened. It will all be forgotten. Until next time the insults begin to fly, until the next time Jess runs.