My name is Savannah, Savannah Banks. I lived a pretty normal life, until March of my Junior year when my mother and I got into a horrible car accident. Unfortunately I was the only person who survived. After my mom passed, my father became more distant, never leaving his room and when he does he takes his emotions out on me. First, I would come home from work, terribly exhausted and the first thing he does is yell about unnecessary tasks that I have not done around the house or finding things that he should not complain about. My father quit his job after my mom passed away. When she left us he turned to alcohol, and getting help from the state. Things have never been the same since she has passed. Our house is gloom, the garden in the front yard has vanished, the smell of her cooking has been non existent for almost six months now.
My dad and I both miss her, but the way we cope are on completely different spectrums. My way is trying to keep myself busy and knowing that she would not want me to stop living my life because hers ended. On the other hand, my dad’s life ended when my mother passed. I understand his pain to a certain extent but the life he is living, my mother would be disappointed. I assumed her passing would bring my father and I closer, I was wrong. Thankfully I only have four more months of living in a place I once called home. I still have an entire school year until I graduate but i turn eighteen before hand. I have been stashing my rent money in a pillowcase under a wood board in my floor. If I didn’t my father will find it, and spend it on alcohol. The first day of my senior year starts tomorrow and I could not  be happier. The sooner I start, the sooner it will end so i can move on to bigger and better things. My stomach starts to growl and ache to the point where I need to eat something. I head toward the wooden staircase and the first thing I hear is my father grumbling about something that bothers him, like always. Once I get to the bottom I swing toward to the left to enter the kitchen and he is sitting at the island on a bar stool, drinking Bud Light. All I can smell is the beer on his breath and three days of no showering.
Located on the left side of the island is the sink that is almost already stacked high with dishes when I just washed them all last night and it is only eleven in the morning. I head over to the sink and start on the dishes so he doesn’t start complaining again. I could feel his eyes penetrating the back of my head. Most likely trying to find something to yell at me for, again. I'm pretty fast at washing dishes so I finish quickly. When I turn toward the fridge that is only two feet away from the sink to the right. My father is already blocking it, he takes a big drink of his beer, burps and says,”thanks for doing the dishes, but the empty cans of beers and empty bottles need to be picked up and thrown away before you do anything else.”
I roll my eyes in irritation, I refuse to argue though because I do not feel like getting back handed so hard that he leaves a bruise on my face like last time. I grab the trash bag and start picking the garbage up in the living room on the right side of the stair case. After I thought I picked up all the cans and bottles I turn and head toward the kitchen to finally eat something when all of sudden I crashed to the floor from being smacked by him. I instantly feel the stinging sensation on my left cheek. I roll to my back and see my father leaning over me in disgust as he remarks, “ you stupid child, you did not pick them ALL up. There is some stuffed between the couch cushions, and on the window seal behind the curtains.” I slowly drag myself up from my knees I could hear his stumbling up the stairs back to his room. Some days I wish he was drunk to the point where he would just fall down them. These days make me miss my mom more than ever.
After picking up all the cans i missed the first time, I head toward the kitchen, grab a small bag of chips, and I make myself a turkey sandwich. I have to hurry so I can get ready for work. Working at a front desk of a law firm is not to hard and I make good enough money to pay for my car insurance and pay for a one bedroom apartment in town which is closer to school, and to Franklins Law Firm. I run down the stairway after eating my lunch. I slowly put the plate in the sink, trying not to make too much noise for my father to hear. After putting my uniform on which is business pants, with a nice buttoned blouse, and a pair of black heels so I look professional. Before leaving this hell hole, I go to my bathroom so I can tie my hair back, and put foundation over the mark on my face and try to cover it, but it does not work as well as I thought it would have. Before I walk out the house, I stop by my mom and fathers room and let him know that I will be back by five tonight. Just in time to make dinner, get my clothes picked out for my first day of school, shower, and all the hygienic essentials before going to bed. Less than three seconds I hear him yell okay. Even if my father does not act like a father anymore he still demands that I tell him where I am going and when I will be back.
My car is black, two door, has a couple dents but I bought it like that about a year ago when I first got my lisence. After twenty minutes of driving I pull into the parking lot of Franklins Law Firm. Only having to work five hours today is not so bad. Work is slow as usual but ever hour I get closer to being able to go home, cook dinner for the monster, and get ready for a new day. Before leaving work my boss Frank beckoned me, “Savannah, can i see you in my office for a moment?”
I walk toward his office, hoping that I am not going to be fired. I notice the pictures of his kids, and wife framed in a petite picture frame that sits on his desk. I put a smile on my face and ask him “what do you need sir?”
He is frowning, which can not mean what he is about to say next is good. He examines me for a while before asking how I got this mark on my left cheek. I sighed in relief knowing I still hold a position here in the office. I still do not know how to go about his question. Should I tell him the truth? That my father started to abuse me after my mom passed. Or should I make up an excuse, like me being clumsy. I am starting to run out of time trying to figure out an answer and soon he will know something is going on in my personal life that is not good at all. I am tired of justifying my father's actions when in reality what he has been doing is wrong. I decide to tell Frank the truth. I feel as if i can trust him and telling someone what has been going on in my private home could help with everything that is happening. I look up from staring at my hands and confess my secret, “ After my mom passed from the car accident my father has changed. He quit his job, he has became an alcoholic in less than six months and takes his anger out on me.” Frank’s facial expression is hard to read but it looks like a combination of anger and concern. He stands from his desk and walks to his window that overlooks the city of New York. without facing me, his voice harsh, he states, “ I have noticed the marks on your arms, and your face. I did not think it was your father that was the cause of it, i thought you were getting bullied by other girls, or maybe even a case of domestic violence? but your own father? The one man who is suppose to protect you. I do not want to send you home just to know that you could be getting abused even more.”
I am in shock, I never would have thought that I was going to have this conversation with anyone especially my boss. I have no idea what to stay or what to do next. I responded to him, “ I only have four more months left under my father’s authority. The day I turn eighteen I am going to rent a one bedroom and proceed to go to school, and work.” I stand up trying to end the conversation, knowing my boss he could call the police and i could lose every little thing I have achieved so far for my future. Like the money for a down payment on a small apartment that has been on hold for me, my car, and maybe even my job. Before walking out of Frank’s office I turn around and look at him and say ,”December 16th will be the day I will be free from him, I think I can make it without getting the court involved.” He stood up from his desk and said,” If things get too bad over there. call me.” Frank reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a card that most likely had his number printed on it. As i was walking out i hollered, “ will do.”
On my way home, Frank’s and my conversation kept replaying in my head. What would he do if I called him because things were getting too heated between my father and I. I made deep fried pork chops as soon as I got home and ran to my room before my father came down stairs. I am not to hungry so I am just gonna go take a shower and read for a little. I finally get out of the shower and head towards my bed to see Frank, my boss calling me. I hesitate to press the answer button. He is my boss though and if he needs me to go to the office and fix something that I messed up on, so I answer my cell.
“hello?” i say in a questioning tone.
He asks, “this is Savannah right?”
I go into my bathroom and start to take the remains of my smudged makeup of my face as I proceed to answer, “yes this is she”
“ Oh great! This is Frank and i was just letting you know that you need to come to work at seven o’clock in the morning tomorrow. I called your school earlier and told them you would be missing school and that you will bring a note in on Tuesday.” So instead of going to school i go to work? How weird, but it must be important if my school will let my boss excuse me from school.
Finally i respond by saying,” alright I will be in the office by seven o’clock a.m..” Before he hangs up he says great. I am not gonna say anything to my father. He probably won’t even hear me leaving the house thirty minutes earlier than usual. Before i know it i look up from the book that I am reading and I notice that it is already ten at night. I need to be up and getting ready by five-thirty, and leaving my house by six-thirty. It takes me a while to fall asleep due to the fact that my father is watching old UFC fights and yelling at the t.v. Plus i wonder why Frank wants me in work so early on a Monday. It’s strange, he usually gives me Mondays off because of school.