Even sisters~Lisa Callum

Even sisters


“What are you doing here?” I asked, stunned that he would be anywhere near the house, much less in my room.
“Now is that any way to greet your father? I haven’t seen you in months.” He said. I’d preferred it that way, but I was smart enough not to say anything like that. Not that I wanted to say anything period.
“What are you doing here?” I said, with a little more force than the first time.
“I’m helping your mother move some things out of the attic. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He said, as if he expected this to be the happiest day of my life just because he showed up at my door.
“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything better to say. I realized then that Mom must not have told him about my seizures, or else he would’ve been hanging over my shoulder telling me the exact opposite of what my mother would say. I could hear him now. There would be ‘Now come on, you’re just a little woozy.’ and ‘you don’t need those pills, you’re perfectly fine.’ My father was the kind of person that didn’t believe in modern medicine. He always thought that whatever happened wasn’t a big deal, al least medically, but if it hurt him in some way, it couldn’t be a more serious matter.
“Are you gonna say hello or not?” He asked. I could see he was getting slightly agitated with my lack of what he considered a proper greeting.
“Hi.” I said, my venomous tone overpowering the cordial tiding. Either he didn’t notice or he was purposely ignoring my not so subtle hatred for him.
“Now that’s more like it. Now how about a handshake. That won’t be so hard will it?” He held out his hand for me to shake. I didn’t think about what I was about to say.
“I’d rather not.” I said. He came back with no effort to hide his aggravation.
“What was that? You can’t even give your father a proper greeting? Haven’t I taught you any manners at all?” He was almost shouting, but I continued without thinking.
“The only decent manners I learned, I sure didn’t learn from you.” I mumbled under my breath, trying my best not to move my lips. I didn’t mean for him to hear it, but I obviously didn’t do a good enough job of hiding it.
“What?” He yelled. He stepped over to the piano before I had the chance to stand, towering over me. It was then that I heard someone at the doorway of my room.
“GET AWAY FROM HER!!” I heard a teary voice from the door. I couldn’t recognize the voice, but I assumed my mother had come to my rescue. My father turned to face the person, blocking my view of the door. It must have been my mother, because when my father saw the person in the doorway, he ran past her and down the hallway. I hung my head and put my hands in my lap, refusing to look at my mother. I let myself cry softly and I expected my mothers arms to wrap around me and comfort me. Instead I saw a small hand rest on my own and I looked up to see Cassy’s tear-stained face.
“Are you hurt?” She asked. I wanted desperately to tell her yes. I wanted to tell her how he’d hurt me so long ago, but I knew she wouldn’t understand. She didn’t know what rape was, and I didn’t want to make her hurt the way I had been hurt, by being forced to grow up faster than she should have to. I just cried. I didn’t know what I could tell her that wouldn’t end up hurting her too. So I just cried.
“Did he hurt you?” I shook my head, but inside I knew. He had hurt me more than I could tell anyone; even my sisters.