Hating & Loving Him

He threw his fist forward, barely making the other guys eye but instead smacking into the bridge of his nose. The crack wasn't audible from where I stood but I could see the impact would cause permanent damage. Damn. The suspense within me is building up, every part of me wishing my friend was here to see this. There was no way this is going to end good, yet no matter what, I know which side I'm rooting for. Another punch was thrown, this time it did hit the eye, which sucks because the man already wears glasses. Lucky for him, he was smart enough to remove them before beginning this. The second punch flew to his already bleeding lip busting it open. The boy was stronger and quicker than the man which explains why all the boy wore was a barely forming bruise to the jaw. Its been five minutes and I can't seem to pull my eyes away, after all its not every day you see a guy beat up his own father. Sure, your first thoughts would be something along the lines of: "He's trash for hitting his father!", or maybe it's "Damn, he needs to learn some respect." The two have been at it for almost two years though, constantly fighting, shouting and yet neither ever call the cops. Privacy seems to be a huge thing between them and I guess in a way I respect that. Watching them was kind of like watching a movie and then seeing your two favorite characters (might I add that one is married to another with children) kiss for the first time and you know it's horrible because they're cheating but you are so relieved they finally did it. It's exciting enough to make your eyes dry up and your heart pound in fear for them, but you're thrilled for them. You want more! I wanted more. Of course, I would've called him a scumbag for punching his own father had I not lived right next door to him and known his father was a complete asshole. The notorious boy pounding his fists into his fathers bloody skull is no other than Ace Miller, hes your typical rebel, fights everyone, hangs with the ex convicts and never says more than five words a day. As Ace knocked his father out with one last single stroke, he stood back and looked around the room probably trying to see the mess they made by slamming each other into everything. Instead, he reached down and grabbed his wallet before giving the room a last look over. He was the type of good looking that was almost annoying, like a Burberry model who seemed to always look pissed. (But in a sexy way.) Letting my eyes run up his body in a curious way, I stopped at his face. My heart quickly hung in the caverns of my chest as his face stared toward mine, catching my eyes. Shit! i***t! I quickly stuck my nose back in the book that I intentionally was supposed to be focusing on in the beginning. Damn you book for not being as interesting! I could still feel his eyes on me, burning holes into my skull and it wasn't till a whole three minutes later, trust me I counted, that the feeling was gone. I let out the breath of air that I didn't even know I was holding in. This wouldn't be the first time he's caught me peeping, but it is the first time I peeped while he was beating his dad. I mean not that I can really ignore it when it's right outside my window. He should cover his blinds, well should, but can't unless he replaces the ones he broke eight months ago. He's got insane rage issues. All these years of living next door I've seen his life go to s**t, yet I never told anyone about his s**t luck of a life, I feel like if he doesn't say anything neither should I. I saw him the day he lost his brother, a horrible drunken mess toppling over the desk and drawers. I also saw the first day he lost his virginity, despite the fact I totally didn't want to watch, I couldn't help it! There was even the time the cops came in and arrested him for tagging the convenience store two blocks down. I've known him for as long as I can remember, just in a very quiet way. I think the only time we've ever spoken to one another was when I went to send my condolences and he just responded with a "Yeah." A small knock on my door pulled me from my train of endless thoughts "How's the reading going Katie?" Dads voice came to my view before his face and I began wondering if I would ever be able to beat my dad. Not that I ever would, at least I don't think I would, but could I? Probably not. I shrugged "Its good, can we head to the library tomorrow? I have a book im dying to get." I smiled at the thought of the book, it's all about gloomy depression, I couldn't help but read the first two chapters online. With a nod, he began walking out and then stepped back inside, "But I have to go to the station to help out with a search so I won't be there in the library with you." Dads dark brows hung to explain the importance of his statement. He always played the mom/dad role, he's been a single parent since I was seven and managed to raise me and my brother alone. Three years ago my brother took his own life after his heavy fight with depression. Everywhere is unsafe to him though. I laughed feeling his worry to be ridiculous since it's the library, I might get a paper cut but that's it. Instead, I shut my laugh down and shook my head "I think I'll be okay." I responded. What bad could happen at the library? It's the library! My dads the sheriff around here, that means he knows everyone, and is in charge of most of the crap that happens. (That doesn't help with the whole paranoia.) Last week a man claimed a ruggedly looking kid stole his tractor from his front yard, they later found the kid and began the wildest chase to get him. (It's a long story) Despite my dad being sheriff, he tries to stay out of his neighbors businesses, which explains why he doesn't talk about Ace and his fathers constant banter. Instead he focuses on the rest of town, and the wild chaotic things that happen. Although it's a small town, we have some insane things happen. My mom used to love hearing my dads stories about the people and the drama of the town. Our family hasn't been the same though since the passing. After mom died, it sort of began the train wreck of a life. It soon followed with my brothers suicide. With him gone, it gets really lonely. So lonely, I have to peep on my neighbor. Dad gestured to the book, "Goodnight kiddo, don't stay up too late reading." He said giving me a smile and shutting the door behind him. Trying to focus on the book within my hands, I reread the paragraph over and over. Forcing the story to seem interesting now. But no matter how hard I tried to forget what had happened only moments ago, I couldn't because that entire night all I kept picturing were those confused and raged blue eyes. I looked back into the room to see the lights off and the room empty. Where did you go? I've always wondered that, where the hell does he go after that? Not that I haven't seen so much other crap happen, I mean I've seen him naked a couple times by accident. Then the six girls he's brought over, all of them sent to leave right after they slept together. He doesn't let them stay the night, usually brushes them off rudely. Very odd guy. I remember when he broke the window and had to use Saran Wrap for a couple weeks until they got it fixed. During those weeks, I could hear everything. Everything. Including the moaning and cries for Ace to 'Go harder!' and 'Oh right there!' which both disgusted me. He's got one girl he brings over a lot, Abbigale. I knew her from last years senior class, she's a natural brunette but dyes her hair a deep and dark auburn, even has tattoos and loves wearing fishnet stockings with her shorts. I've often envied that her father lets her wear whatever she wants. If I walked out in fishnet stockings, my dad would flip. No, he'd have a literal heart attack. I've always dreamt of moving out, but I could never leave my dad alone in this home, it's why I refuse to go off to college. I don't think he can handle a life without me. I'm not looking for a career anyways, the librarian Susan has already told me she plans to give the manager job at the library to me. I'll be a librarian and spend the rest of my life in this town. It's what I want, where I belong and I am content with that fact. Staring over at the room across, I let my mind wander to Ace, to where he will be in five years. Dead, incarcerated, in a coma from driving drunk and crashing.