Never Again

Ashlee laid on her stomach with her chin resting in her palms. On the television, Ashlee's green eyes remained captivated by a coyote's futile attempts at catching a really big bird. In the other room, Ashlee's big brother Greg worked diligently on his 9th grade homework. He would smile to himself whenever Ashlee busted out with an uproarious giggle. She had an infectious laugh that could cheer anyone up on the darkest of days.

When the sun finally crept below the horizon, Ashlee's other big brother came in from outside, gasping for air. His sweaty black hair was matted against his head, not sticking out like it usually did. There was a small sweat stain below the collar of the 12-year old's Metallica shirt. Without saying anything, he walked past Ashlee and towards his room down the hall. As he passed through the dining room, where Greg was working on his homework, the eldest of the three spoke to the new arrival.

"Matt, where were you?" Greg set his pencil down to turn his full attention towards his younger brother.

"Fuck off." Matt tried his best to blow off his older brother as he kept walking.

Ignoring this comment, Greg continued, "You missed Mom's dinner."

"So?" Matt shrugged. "She's taking her nap right? Who cares?"

Ashlee could feel the tension from the kitchen. Once the coyote had finally given up and the cartoons cut to commercial, the little 7-year old meandered into the kitchen without saying anything. Whenever a problem arose, Ashlee did her best to be as quiet as she could. If she could make herself as invisible as possible, then hopefully the hate wouldn't direct its way to her.

"So Larry is going to be mad." Greg tried to impose his point through fierce eye contact.

"I don't care. Larry's not my dad!" Matt protested.

"I never said he was your dad." Greg became frustrated. "But you know what he'll do." Greg pointed towards his left eye which was still recovering from the last shiner he received from the stumbling drunk old man.

"I don't need you to fucking look after me." Matt turned away to keep going to his room.

As the two of them argued, they did not notice the headlights pass through the living room window as the rusting Chevy pickup pulled into the driveway. Fortunately they did catch the corner of Ashlee's eye and she rushed to the window to make sure it was him. Her brothers continued arguing in the kitchen as Ashlee ran by them, fleeing to the attic.
"He's home! He's home!" She cried as her little legs propelled her like a rocket through the kitchen.

Totally oblivious to the fleeing little girl, the two continued to fight in the kitchen. Meanwhile she ran to the attic stairs and spied down into the kitchen. The sound of the front door opening made Ashlee's heart drop through her stomach. He was drunk, again.

"Whudafuck 's this?" The sound of Larry's voice reverberated throughout the entire house. Ashlee watched both of her brothers' eyes grow wide at the sight of the slovenly mess. Matt took a slight step behind his older brother as quietly as he could.
Greg stood between his stepfather and his little brother. Fear filled his eyes, but his body spoke the language of defiance. "Nothing." He spoke, "We're just..." A thundering smack across the 15-year old's face sent him sprawling over the kitchen table.
"Don' fucking argue wityer brother!" The slurred speech sounded like a foreign accent. Larry began to take off his jacket, making it look much more entangling than a jacket should be. After a brief struggle, he threw the jacket on the couch and collapsed into his recliner back in the living room.

"Gimmie a beer!" Larry yelled towards the kitchen, at anyone who could hear.
Matt changed his tone quickly as he ran to the refrigerator. Like an obedient dog, he retrieved a beer and gave it to his stepfather. Without a thanks, Larry just stared at Matt for a couple seconds before turning to his beer. After taking a couple of gulps, he turned his rather short attention span towards the television.

Suddenly without any warning Larry slammed his beer onto the nearby end table and yelled out. "Whodafuck left the god damn TV on?! You think power's free?!" By now, Ashlee's cartoons had returned from the commercial break, which answered the drunken man's question.
"Where the hell is that little bitch?"

Ashlee let out a tiny squeak from the stairwell. She knew his crosshairs were targeting her, and tonight he seemed especially mean. The sound of the old man climbing to his feet sent Ashlee running up the stairs to her room. Each step she ascended reminded her of a time in the past when Larry had been mean to her.

"Quit yer god damned cryin'!"
thud
"You didn't want to eat your dinner?!"
thud
"Yer momma told you to be home half an hour ago!"
thud
"I swear to God Ashlee..."
thud
"If I ever see you in here again..."
thud
"...I will kill you."
thud

By the time Ashlee reached the top of the stairs she was nearly hysterical. Breathing became a difficult task. Tears blurred her vision. Bad memories racing through her head prevented any logical thought. Frantically she searched for anywhere to hide; somewhere he couldn't fit, somewhere he wouldn't look.

In the middle of the cramped attic stood Ashlee's twin bed. Maybe under the bed would work... no, he would look there. To Ashlee's right sat a big wooden dresser with fairly large drawers. A year ago she could cram into one of the drawers, but now she had grown too big. Throughout the attic, several boxes of long forgotten keepsakes collected dust. This was Ashlee's bedroom, but first and foremost Larry treated it as his attic.
Panic took over as she heard the reliable creek of the first step.

At the bottom of the stairs, Matt grasped at Larry's elbow. "I don't think she's up there." He lied as well as a 12 year old could lie. Although he was never one to care for others, everyone cared for Ashlee. She was a lovely pure joy that did not deserve to be treated like this.
"Bullshit, I heard her run up here!" As he swore, Larry shoved Ashlee's would-be savior to the ground where he received a nasty rugburn on his left elbow.

Following a few seconds of clumsy stair climbing, Larry reached the attic. Looking around, there was no sign of Ashlee. "If you come out now your punishment won't be as bad." Larry tried to trick Ashlee out of wherever she was hiding. As he regained his breath from climbing the stairs, Larry opened his ear to the room. His vision may have been blurred from the heavy drinking, but his hearing was as good as ever.

Sure enough, the sound of a sniffling little girl sounded from a nearby cardboard box. As he walked over to it, Larry noticed a bunch of old books scattered across the floor next to an upside-down cardboard box. With a gleam of triumph in his eye, he reached down and threw the box into the air, exposing a weeping, frightened child.

"How dare you try to hide from me when yer in trouble!" Larry grabbed the sobbing girl by the shirt and pulled her up to her trembling feet. The force with which he did so ripped the shirt at the seams.
"I...I d-" Ashlee tried to explain herself. Maybe, just maybe if she could explain that she was watching the TV then he would let her go.
Before she could, the old man slapped her across the side of her face. The sound of it echoed down the stairs and cut right through the hearts of the young girl's brothers.

The slap stung the little girl, sending waves of pain to her already emotionally overloaded head. She tried to let the pain escape through a loud cry, but her tears were running dry and her throat hurt too bad to make any more sounds. This was the most intense pain that the seven year old could remember, and from the look in her stepfather's eyes he was not finished.

"Let thish be a lesson to you." The old man slurred as he grabbed at the sobbing child again. "Don't ever hide from your Dad again!" As he raised his fist, Ashlee tried to back up as far as she could in the firm grasp of the angered man.

And then..
CRACK

Larry's fist collided with the front of the girl's face, shattering her cute button nose. A splatter of blood erupted from her nose, landing on the tattered remains of her shirt. Ashlee fell to the ground with her eyes closed. The pain was so intense all her thoughts stopped. Rather than worry, cry, or fear, Ashlee simply cupped her nose in her hands and prayed that death would not follow.

Larry let the girl hit the ground, and opened his eyes wider than they had been all night. All at once his extreme intoxication came to a halt and he found himself staring at terrible sight. The beautiful girl, his favorite of the three, lay broken on the floor. He stood there, frozen in panic. Had he killed her?

"NO!" A cry let out from the stairs. Matt stood at the top, looking at the bloody mess of his sister. "You...fucking...FUCK!" The 12-year old grasped at the strongest language he could think of. Larry continued to stand there in a lull, oblivious that anyone else was in the attic now.

With all the fury and rage that a protective, pre-teen brother could muster, Matt launched himself at the front old man, hitting him square in the gut with a shaking fist.
Larry had not seen this coming. The blow knocked the wind right out of his stomach and sent him staggering backwards towards the stairs. Still in shock of what he had done to Ashlee, Larry did not defend himself.
"I'll fucking kill you!" Matt threw another punch which hit Larry in the face. The pain did not penetrate Larry's shocked state, but did send him back another couple steps. With rage continuing to course through him, Matt kicked Larry as hard as he could right between the legs.

Even with her broken nose, Ashlee could not ignore the loud ruckus caused by the two near the stairs. Still grasping her nose and crying to herself, Ashlee rolled over and watched her brother defend her.

Larry could feel the pain now. A kick to that specific spot could penetrate just about any armor. Grasping below his belt, Larry struggled to stay on his feet. The pain coursing through the old man's body distracted him from his position in the room. With one more staggering step backwards, he went toppling down the staircase. Thud after thud reverberated through the house, each stair sending one more blow through Larry's aching body.

At the top of the stairs, it was Matt's turn to be surprised. He did not intend to send the old man sprawling down the stairs. The pre-teen was simply taking out his aggression. As stair after stair attacked the old man, Ashlee couldn't help but grow interested. With pain flowing through every inch of her, she got up and stood next to her brother.

At the bottom of the staircase, the back of Larry's head lay in a pool of blood. The hardwood kitchen floor had delivered the finishing blow. Greg knelt over Larry's body, checking the severity of the tumble down the stairs.
"He's dead." Greg called up the stairs. He couldn't help but keep a tone of optimism in his voice.

Ashlee threw her arms around Matt. Her face was coated with a mixture of blood and tears, both of which smeared onto Matt's Metallica shirt.
She tried to say "Thank you" but the words got lost in her raspy throat. She knew that Larry would never again be able to hurt her. Matt passively threw an arm around Ashlee, still amazed at what he had done.

Complete silence filled the house for the first time since Larry walked through the front door. It was quickly broken though as the children's mother awoke from her nap and shrieked at the sight of her husband.

Greg looked up at his mother and shrugged, "He fell."