Char

The photo that Alex has sent me with his parents' tombstone, with the comment that they send me greetings, makes me smile.

My hand goes to my chest, wanting to ease the small pain that appears.

I quickly write to him that I would love to go see them and that, when he feels ready, I would gladly go with him.

I look at the time, mentally scheduling myself with the time I have available to get to Alex's house so I can give him the surprise I've been preparing.

A clap of thunder in the distance makes me look out the window. I frown as I see a large black cloud approaching.

I checked the time on my cell phone again.

"I'd better hurry if I don't want the rain to come for me." I run into the bathroom, putting on the first thing I can find.

I go down the steps to the kitchen, where I've left the iron. I found a forgotten dress in my closet, and after washing it, it didn't look bad on me. I just needed to iron it.

The sound of the door makes me stop in the middle of the kitchen.

My eyes glance at the clock above the kitchen.

"He can't have come so early." I whisper, transfixed, analyzing the footsteps.

My brain thinks faster than my body, because even though I thought I could turn off the iron and take my dress upstairs undetected, a strong hand grabs my wrist.

The sudden tug makes me lose my balance, and I fall from the middle of the stairs down. My head was so close to the iron that it was getting hot.

"Where do you think you're going without greeting your father?" I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath, the blow has knocked it out of me almost completely. My eyes blur for a moment.

I stand up carefully, hiding my dress behind my body.

"Good afternoon, father, I didn't hear you come in." My voice comes out as a whisper, so low I think it was only in my mind. " I'll be in my room studying."

My body turns toward the stairs, begging my legs to run as fast as they can.

But when my father grabs the dress I was trying to hide, the tug causes one sleeve to tear.

My mouth drops open in astonishment, seeing the part of the dress still in my hand.

"Do you think I'm an imbecile? Don't you think I know you're a fucking whore who goes out every night?" My body jolts at those words I've heard so many times already.

My eyes are fixed on the floor, unable to find the courage to raise them.

"Won't you answer me?" My body begins to tremble, my knuckles turning white from the pressure I put on the sleeve of the dress still in my hands.

"I wasn't going out partying today, I..."

"Liar!" The pressure of his finger hurts my forehead, making me cringe a little. "You're a fucking liar like your mother! You have me working day and night like a fucking pig to pander to your whore life! Do you even earn anything? Tell me! Do you earn anything by spreading your fucking legs like your mother did?" A lone tear rolls down my cheek.

My father grabs my face by the chin, forcing me to look into his angry, bloodshot eyes.

"I didn't..." My voice sounds muffled and lifeless.

"But that's what you like, isn't it? Watching me work and work and work for you! While you fuck my best friend! Goddamn it, Astrid! Goddamn it!" My father lets out my face forcefully, sending me crashing to the floor.

I groan as I feel the bruise on my still-not-fully healed scrapes.

My father keeps shouting words and more words, throwing some things in his path, some things he hasn't smashed yet.

"I am not my mother."

"What did you say?" My father's anger is directed at me again.

I look at him, my eyes full of rage, pain and sadness.

"I am not my mother!" I scream.

I hide my head with my hands when I see my father pick up a table and drop it so hard on the floor that some pieces fall on top of me.

"That's enough! Get the fuck out of here! Get the fuck out of here!" is fear flashing in my eyes, fear of his words.

My father starts walking fast up the stairs, I run after him, scared to see what he is doing.

I stand still, watching as my father throws the last pile of clothes out of the house. I watch as it gets completely soaked in seconds under the storm.

I see my shoes, my second-hand headphones, my pillows and also some textbooks.

I watch as everything quickly begins to fill with water.

My father shouts some words that I no longer understand and that no longer make sense to me before closing the door tightly.

Despite the loud sound of the rain, despite the shattering sound of my heart, and despite the distance, I can hear perfectly well when he locks the door.

Like a dagger, right in the heart.

But the pain and fear don't compare at all to the look Alex gives me.

I hadn't heard him arrive and hadn't seen his car at all.

But he is there, standing in front of me, in his soaked clothes, clothes that were perfectly arranged a couple of hours ago when he went to visit his parents.

My body collapses completely. I see how my walls come down one by one, how that protection that I had worked so hard to create flies away with the wind of the rain.

Alex

My brain is going a mile a minute, trying to understand a situation that seems much more complex than a dispute between father and daughter.

My body tenses as I see the pain on Char's face, the fear, and the despair.

My body reacts to it, I walk towards her and crouch down in front of her. My hand reaches out to take her hand, but she abruptly pushes it away.

Char stands up and steps back a few paces to leave a clear distance between us.

"Char." My voice sounds hollow and empty, like my heart at seeing her in this state.

"What are you doing here?" Her words are sharp; all the terror in her eyes is gone; all fear and despair have become pure emptiness, pure emotional numbness.

"I came to pick you up."

"I didn't ask you to." I hold my breath, watching her walls grow again.

I need to get inside before they grow high enough to never get through again.

I approach her, but she backs away. My eyes close, and my body, oblivious to the cold, begins to shake out of rage for her father, of fear for her, and of desperation for wanting to get her out of here forever.

"Char, let me help you." My words didn't get the desired reaction, Char approached me and pushed me with all her strength.

She barely manages to move me, but I let her do it, let her release her anger on me.

"Go away! Go away! Go away!" The sobs come again with each push, her breathing becomes more and more ragged, and her body trembles.

I manage to embrace her, immobilizing her arms.

Tears run down her eyes.

"Please, please." Char begs, still struggling with my body. "Go away, Alex, please go away." Her sobs grow louder and louder.

My jaw tightens, and my eyes full of anger go to that house—that horrible house that makes her eyes darken every time she sees it.

"I won't leave. " I whisper into her wet hair. "I won't leave, Char, I won't leave."

"Please, please, I'm begging you, Alex, please."

I carry Char to the car, and the girl curls up in the seat after I close the car door.

I leave a message for a moving company to come as soon as possible to pick up anything they can find salvageable.

I get in the car, turn on the heater, and drive quietly home.

My knuckles are white from squeezing the steering wheel as I listen to her cry beside me.