A Child's Wrath

          Shannon turned to see her mother walking out the door. She ran after her and watched her stack bags into the car. Her father brushed past her. She heard his car keys jingle in his pocket as he walked. His huge frame towered over her. She shivered. Even though he was her father, he still scared her. Shannon looked up at his head and giggled. His bald spot glistened in the sunlight. Her mother, now finished filling the car with bags, walked over to Shannon. She bent down and picked her up. Shannon could feel her mother loved her but as usual the hug was uncomfortable.

“Mummy, what are you doing?” Shannon looked at her mothers face. She had watched her mother pack her bags many times before but she had never put them in the car.

“I have to go to the hospital sweety.” Shannon’s mother looked at her watch and in a whisper said, “You have to stay here with Daddy for a while. Aunt Michele will look after you until Daddy gets back. Stay in your room and be good while I’m gone. Please don’t upset Daddy.”

          Shannon’s mother lowered her to the ground and walked toward the car. She turned and gave a quick smile before getting in. After a small wave from her mother and a frown from her father, the car pulled out of the driveway. Shannon watched the car drive down the street. Tears threatened to fall when the car turned the corner.

                             *          *          *

          Shannon sat in her room; she could hear her father screaming about the messy kitchen. Her mother had been gone for three days and without her to clean, the house was a pigsty. Dirty clothes were everywhere. The sink was filled with dishes. Plates of half eaten food littered the lounge room. Grease, dirt and other muck littered the floor, the only clean place was Shannon’s room.

          Shannon took her mothers advice and stayed away from her father. That night Shannon hid under her bed. She could hear plates smashing against the walls. Shannon was too terrified to come out. So, she slept under the bed. She dreamed of having somewhere to go, to escape from her father, a happy place where only she and her mother could go.

                             *          *          *

          The air was freezing; Shannon’s thin jumper barely kept out the cold. Her father pushed open the hospital doors and barged through. Shannon tried to keep up. She was relived to have made it inside before the heavy doors slammed shut. She followed her father as he stormed through long white corridors. People jumped out of his way as he walked. Shannon skipped along behind him. The bright white walls hurt her eyes, but she was glad to be out of the cold and on her way to see her mother. Shannon’s father turned sharply into a small room. Lying on a bed was her mother.

“Mummy!” Shannon raced toward her mother. She climbed onto a large brown chair then onto the bed. “Mum, when are you coming home?”

“Shut up you little brat!” Shannon’s father walked toward her. A shiver went down her spine as he picked her up. He turned and dropped her on the floor. The force of the drop sent her flying head first toward the bed. She lay sprawled on the floor for a few seconds before she felt pain. Her head began throbbing. The pain grew stronger and sharper. Shannon felt something slide slowly down her forehead. She raised a hand to her face. Shannon screamed: her hand was covered in blood.

“I told you to shut up!” Shannon’s father pulled a leg back, ready to kick his daughter. He stopped short of connecting, he heard someone coming. A nurse suddenly burst through the door. Shannon’s vision faded and the screaming stopped.

                             *          *          *

          Shannon woke up back home in her bed. Her head still hurt. She could hear her father in the kitchen ranting. Shannon could tell her mother wasn’t home. The smell of rotting food in the kitchen wafted into her room. Tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted a hug from her mother. Even though they were always uncomfortable: they always made her feel better.

          Shannon heard a plate smash and suddenly she felt angry. It was all her fathers fault. She knew he was the reason her mother wasn’t there. He was also the reason her mother cried all the time. She balled her hands up into fists and got out of bed. She swayed; her head throbbed harder. The sludge her father called food threatened to come back up. She steadied herself and headed toward the door.

                             *          *          *

          Shannon turned the handle as quietly as she could. Slowly, she opened the door and peered out. Her father threw another plate before he stormed into the lounge room. Shannon tiptoed into the kitchen. She held her breath and didn’t dare make a sound. Her father grunted and Shannon froze. Her heart stopped for a second. She waited until she was sure her father wasn’t coming and began moving again. She slowly headed toward the sink; she stopped and looked at the mess her father had made.

          Shannon held her nose; the putrid smell of rotten food filled the room. She pulled open a drawer. She fumbled around with the contents until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed its handle and pulled it out carefully. She held the knife and watched blade glisten in the light. She touched the tip and jumped. The tip pierced her middle finger. Blood seeped out of the tiny cut. She wiped it away then headed toward the lounge room.

                             *          *          *

“Shannon, is that you? Get to your room you little…” Her fathers voice trailed away as he muttered obscenities.

          Shannon stopped moving until her father got lost in the television show he was watching. She continued, this time being even more careful to not make a sound. She reached the doorway and stopped. She could see his face now. She stared at him taking in every horrible detail. His mouth was twisted into a permanent snarl, which only disappeared when people, other than Shannon and her mother, were around. His skin was a ruddy brown; just below his shirt was where the skin turned white. His piercing blue eyes were hardened. She looked at the table beside him. Beer bottles covered it and littered the floor.

          Shannon walked in front of her father and stopped. She played with the knife behind her back.

“What the hell are you doing out of your room? Get back there or I’ll put my boot so far up your backside…” His voice trailed off as Shannon raised her bloody finger to her lips.

“Shoosh Daddy. I have something for you. I hope you like it.” Before her father could react Shannon revealed the knife. She played with it for a second then made her move.

          Shannon lunged forward. Her arm quivered as the blade sliced into her fathers’ neck. Shannon pulled back. For a moment she couldn’t believe what she had done. Blood spurted from her father’s throat. Shannon giggled. The blood looked so pretty. Her father sat in his chair clutching his throat. His eyes were bulging. He tried to get up. Before he had a chance to fully stand, Shannon lunged again. She continued to strike him. Blood was now flowing freely from his arms, chest and legs.

          Shannon’s father jumped up. He wobbled, and then his knees buckled. He stumbled forward, stretched out his arms and fell. Shannon jumped out of his way. His body missed her but he managed to grab her leg. Shannon screamed. She tried to pull her leg free. Her father pulled her closer. Shannon screamed again, this time much louder. Using all of her strength Shannon broke free. She swung her leg forward. Her foot connected with her fathers face. Her father reached for her. His fingers brushed her foot. Shannon scrambled away. Her father collapsed. Shannon turned toward him and smiled.

“Don’t you wanna play anymore Daddy?” She giggled, “Daddy, you look all pretty now, you’re all red! Bye bye Daddy.”

          Shannon made her way to the front door. She turned to look at her father and frowned.

“Mummy’s not gonna like this mess but she’ll be happy about you Daddy. She never liked you. She only liked me. You weren’t nice to me, Daddy. You were mean. I don’t like mean people. I hate them. I hated you and so did Mummy!”

          Shannon turned and said to herself, “I wonder who else was mean to Mummy, like Daddy. Maybe they’ll play with me.”

          With that she skipped out the door. A ear to ear grin on her face.