Her Darkest Secrets

Chapter 2

Annie POV

Annie Seventeen Years Old

I have to leave, I have to get out of here. I can't handle it anymore and I can't tell anyone what's been going on. About a year ago I caught Andy hitting my mom, I told grandpa and I don't know what he did, or said, but we all went and stayed with him for a week and then we came back home. Andy sat us all down and apologized. He promised it would never happen again and said that he was going to be entering Alcoholics Anonymous to get help for his drinking. He also promised that he would be going to the unemployment office and finding work. Mom forgave him, Julie was shocked because she didn't know anything had happened, or what exactly, so she forgave him too. But I never did. I could never forgive him for what he did. I may not have remembered everything about my father, but I do know that he never even yelled at us, let alone hit anyone. I will admit things got better for awhile, I don't know if that's because AA actually worked, Andy found a new job, or my grandpa started stopping by at random times of the day and night.

Maybe it was a combination of the three things, but once things got better my grandpa stopped coming by as much. Andy stopped going to AA meetings, and after a few months he got laid off again. Him and mom started fighting again, but I never heard or caught him hitting her. Then one night I came home late. I was supposed to put Julie to bed because mom was working late but I lost track of time while I was studying. Andy had to put her down, which must have been a big inconvenience because when I got home he started yelling at me. I told him he needed to stop being such a lazy piece of s.hit and that was the first time his hand connected to my face. He backhanded me so hard I fell and hit my head, then he kicked me in the stomach. I'll never forget the look of absolute hatred on his face as he bent down, or what he said to me next.

"You are the reason we're all suffering. Your mother just can't stomach the idea of using the help your dad left. And not a f.ucking word of this to her, or your f.ucking grandfather," he spat as he fisted, my hair in his hand and pulled my head up closer to his. "If you say a word to either of them, it won't just be the last thing you ever do, but I'll make your mom and sister pay for it too. Tell me, do you think little Julie would get back up as quickly as you?"

"Let me go," I cried out as tears ran down my face.

"I don't think she would, I think she would have crumbled into a pile. Keep that in mind you f.ucking brat."

I made my way to my room, I had every intention of telling mom what happened but when she got home that night I crept down the stairs so Andy wouldn't hear me and the two of them were sitting at the kitchen table. Andy had made her some dinner and they were talking and laughing. My mom had a spark in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time and I couldn't bring myself to ruin her happiness. Besides, it was just the one time, I doubted it would happen again. But that was the naive thinking of a seventeen-year-old.

It did happen again, many, many more times. He always threatened me to keep me quiet, and after my mom asked about one of my bruises he started hitting me in spots she wouldn't see. But this last time was different, he didn't seem to care where he hit me, I didn't think he'd ever stop. I thought I was going to die, and I think now, that if I stay here any longer he will k.ill me. He hasn't touched my mom again, or gone near my sister. I think if I just leave things will be better for them. I've become the object of all his anger so removing myself from the equation should solve the problem. I can't lean on grandpa right now either. The one time I decided to go tell him was the day we found out that grandma had cancer. He's been taking care of her every single day since then and I can't stomach the thought of adding this to his plate as well.

But I'm done being his punching bag, I just have to figure out a time to leave. I've been saving up all the money I could from my job. I know Andy takes it sometimes, that's why I made a decoy hiding spot in my jewelry box while the rest of my money is in a plastic baggie in the back of my closet. I have about $500 in there, that should be enough to get me a train ticket out of here. Andy took mom out so it's just me and Julie right now, but they'll be back soon. It would probably be best to wait until a night they all go out. I've been making up excuses not to go out with them for a while now, although it's not hard. I usually just tell them I've picked up an extra shift. My mom hates it, but since Andy hates me, he takes my side and tells my mom she should be proud of my work ethic. It's almost the weekend I'm sure they'll all head out somewhere, and then I'll be ready.

Saturday night, they're going to the movies. I told mom I'm working tonight because I'll be getting overtime and I could really use it. She tries to get me to change my mind and come with them instead but I don't give in, and as always, Andy tells her to let me work. I wait until fifteen minutes after they all leave before I grab my extra backpack that I have been packing up my things in for the week. I have clothes, a few of my most sentimental items, a picture of my dad, and a necklace he gave my mom, that she in turn gave me. I also have my money in hand, I actually had closer to $700 so all I need to do is get somewhere and find a job should be easy right?

I make my way to the train station and buy a ticket for New York City. I know the city is expensive and I probably should have looked somewhere cheaper, but I also know that jobs in small towns and rural areas are hard to come by. Especially for someone who only has experience in waitressing. But I've been looking into it more and it looks like waitresses in the city can make a c.rap ton of money so I just have to get there and then everything will be okay.

I get on the train and I can't stop the tears that start to flow. I pull my hood up over my head and settle into my seat. Thankfully, I'm alone, there aren't that many people on the bus at all, New York isn't a big destination from here so no one will recognize me either. I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave my mom, my sister, my grandparents, and I sure as h.ell don't want to leave my father. Who knows if or when I'll ever be able to come back here. I cry harder as we pass the sign that says come back soon. I try to console myself with the knowledge that my family will be better off with me gone. And I'll be safer than I have been in a year.