The Lies that Followed

Chapter Six: My little toy truck

COLES POV

We sat in the corner of the waiting room impatiently waiting. I resisted the urge to bite my nails and instead squeezed my hands together tightly.

"Maybe someone should take a look at your face while we are where." Lila said randomly after about 10 minutes of us not saying to each other.

"Lila- don't." I grunted.

"You should leave them." She said crossing her arms.

"Who?" I asked.

"You're parents. They did that to you, right? Leave them." She said.

Like it's that easy.

"I can't." I sighed. "It's mostly just my dad. I can handle it."

"Does he hit your mom too?" She asked.

Where is she going with this?

"No, he never has. Not in front of me anyway."

"Then she is just as much to blame as he is."

"You don't think I fucking know that?" I snapped at her. She jumped as the words left my mouth.

I lowered my voice and said, "I'm sorry. It's just...it's all so complicated."

***

I opened my eyes to see Hunter already awake. He leaned over the top bunk and looked down at me. "Let's go! Let's go!" He said with excitement.

I threw the covers off of me and jumped out a floor. He climbed down the side of the bed and followed me down the stairs. Mom and Dad sat on the couch drinking coffee in front of the tree.

Tons of presents laid under the tree all wrapped up nicely.

"Santa came!" Hunter yelled running to the tree.

"Yes he did!" Mom smiled.

"Go on, start opening!" Dad pointed at the presents.

Mom made us hot cocoa after we finished opened the last few gifts.

"Careful, it's very warm." She said handing my the cup.

I sat crisscross with my new toy truck in my lap. I used both hands to grab the cup from her. I looked at the brown colored liquid that was filled with tiny marshmallows. I could even see the steam coming off it but I didn't care.
I really wanted it so despite her warning I took a sip. It was so hot that it made my hole body twitch causing me to drop the cup in my lap. Half the hot chocolate laid on my new truck and lap. I squealed from the burning drink touching my skin. 

"Didn't you hear what she just said? Jesus Christ!" Dad said jumping up from the couch. He used one hand to pick me up by arm. The truck fell off my lap as he dragged me into my room. He made me lay on my bed and ripped down my pants.

I still remember the sound of his pants unbuckling as he took of his belt. I cried out for my mom but she didn't come to my rescue.

That was the first time he hit me. I was four-and-half at the time and I never got the chance to play with that truck.

I hesitantly opened my front door and then shut it behind me. I walked down the hall while taking off my tie. I hated everything about that. I had always thought I would be the one to go first-not Hunter. I was always the trouble child whereas he couldn't do anything wrong. The only mistake he ever made was standing up to my father for me when we were six years old-but that just earned him a visit from the back of dads hand.

From that day on he did everything my father wanted. A part of me almost resents my brother for that. Every school choice, every word- every waking breath was to make my father happy.

I think he thought if he could make dad happy it would distract him from the screwup that was me. Dad liked to joke that Hunter was the first born twin with the good qualities and that I had gotten the left over bad ones. Sometimes I don't disagree with him.

Let's see, I'm not a conservative, I like to express my own opinions and I'm gay. Not exactly what my dad wanted.

"Where the hell have you been?" My dad grunted startling me.

"Jesus. I left with some friends to get some air." I answered.

I didn't need to smell his breath to know he had been drinking since this morning. His crooked stance and the circles under his eyes said it for me.

"What the fuck does that mean? You were outside you had all the air you needed." He yelled.

I swallowed hard. This is only going in one direction. My mother came from behind him and walked past me quickly to her room without making eye contact with me.

"Did you hate your brother that much that you couldn't even last through his funeral?"

"I didn't hate him," I snapped back. "And it was practically already over."

Definitely not what he wanted to hear but I didn't care. I felt so tired that I just didn't care anymore.

Even as he just kept punching and punching me it felt like I deserved it. It shouldn't have been Hunter that died that night. It should have been me.