Essay

Same Old Song and Dance

By: Claire Allen, 6/15/2012 10:56:34 PM

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I had already learned to take what I had earned. I bent over and clenched my fists to prevent my instinctive hands from earning more licks. “If you keep putting your hands back there you’ll get three more!” he said (and I knew). I waited there, tears slowly wetting my face. As he came closer, I turned my head to see what choice he had made-an old, dark brown one that had metal belt rings from one end to the other; a hefty punishment for an unknown crime committed by a nine year old girl. “ Look at the bed, and I swear to God if I hear any of that crying bullshit, I’ll add more.” He snapped the belt together, trying to create more fear I guess, but I knew the routine-nothing came as a shock to me anymore. I focused on breathing, in and out, in and out. I sang a song in my head, the same one I always chose. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine-one. You make me happy, when skies are gray-two. You’ll never know dear how much I love you-three. So please don’t take my sunshine away.
I had paid my dues, taken all three licks. I turned around to see if he had any closing remarks and he told me to sit on my bed, and that if he caught me up, he’d have to do it again. I walked down the hall and lay on my bed. I replayed the scene that had just taken place in my head. I smiled to myself- I hadn’t even tensed my muscles that time. “I really am getting good at this,” I whispered to no one.
A week or two passed, mundane and uneventful. I learned about long division and how to multiply huge three-digit numbers. Mom worked at her law office in the city. My sister talked on the phone, mostly, and continued to act like the world revolved around her. When he was home, Dad cooked dinner and watched TV, always with a beer in hand.
I lay in my bed one night and turned the radio on, singing with Avril about skater boys. The front door rattled as someone struggled to open it- it was usually tricky to newcomers. I got up to open the door for whoever thought they needed to be inside my house. I pulled open the door, surprised to see my Dad standing there, since he was the one who taught me how to deal with the tricky door. “Couldn’t you open the door, Daddy?” As soon as I said it I knew I shouldn’t have.
“What did you just say to me?” he asked in a rage.
“Nothing, Daddy, I promise! I didn’t mean to.”
I ran to my room and got into bed, pulling the covers up so that I was in my own cocoon. My breath shook from adrenaline and fear. As I waited in my shelter I heard heavy footsteps coming toward my room. Just remember to breathe, I thought to myself. The creature producing the lout foot-fall swung open my door and tore the blankets off of me, and then it spoke in a snarled manner: “Get to my bedroom now!” I moved quickly past the giant who had destroyed my comfort and made it to the bedroom, already singing in my head.

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