His wrath came quickly and severely as he raised his belt and snapped it against my arm and side. I fled. He chased, backing me into a corner in the kitchen. With no defense left, I curled into a ball while his stinging strap found a place to inflict its pain again and again. Each lash seared my shoulders, buttocks and back. I howled with every strike, yelling for him to stop, but he was relentless, ranting that I was useless, worthless, a disgrace.
Where were the knives? If I could just find my way over to them, I could kill the son of a bitch. And where the hell was my mother? How could she just stand by and let this happen?
“Say it!” my father yelled, whipping his belt against my skin again.
Say what?
“Tell me you’re worthless, a disgrace to this family.”
The pain was sharp and searing, yet I gritted my teeth and remained silent except for my ragged breathing. Call it stubborn pride, but I would not bend to his deranged will. He could not make me. He would not break me.
My father dropped the belt and grabbed me with both hands. Flipping me over on my back, he seized my shoulders and shook me back and forth, slamming my head into the wall with every blow while continuing to spew words about my disrespect and unworthiness.
“Say it!” he shouted.
Never.
“Goddamn you. Say it!”
Fuck you.
He pounded my head into the wall, his face contorted into the mask of a madman.
“Alfonso, that’s enough!” My mother screamed.
He paused.
Sensing my moment to escape, I scrambled to my feet and tried to run, but my legs gave out. I half-crawled, half-walked to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I threw open the window and stuck my head out, gulping air and hyperventilating through my tears. My breath came in gasps and fits. Wide-eyed, I tried to decide what to do next. A fresh adrenaline surge gave me a boost of intense, crazed energy. One sure thing was clear: I had to get out of there.
My door opened, and I whirled around. My mother entered, horror frozen on her face.
“You!” I screamed. “How could you do nothing? He could have killed me!”
“You brought this on yourself,” she said weakly.
I stared at her, stupefied. “You’re the one who’s worthless.” I bolted past her and out the front door, leaving the Trapani lunatic asylum behind.
38
The End
I had two options: take the car or flee on foot. It was a no-brainer. My hands shook as I struggled to insert the keys first into the door, then the ignition, but I succeeded. I peeled out, tires screeching.
I drove like a crazed person, sobbing uncontrollably as I swerved and weaved across the road. I couldn’t stop the tumbling emotions fighting for space in the hierarchy: anger, fear, shock, righteousness, incredulity and back again. Even though I couldn’t think straight, I kept driving. I had to get as far from my parents as possible. I steered the car toward the Oakland hills.
I passed Skyline High and could no longer fathom how I’d make it through my senior year. So much had transpired in the short time since school had let out. My entire life had changed.
And what about Pete? Even though he’d been a jerk the night before—had it really been just last night?—it was his arms I longed to hold me now, and his voice I needed to tell me everything would be alright. I steered the Volvo down the road taking me to him, wincing in pain as I shifted in my seat.
All appeared quiet at the O’Reilly house, perfectly logical for early Sunday morning. I cut the ignition, took a deep breath and closed the car door quietly. I crept to Pete’s bedroom window and knocked softly. It took him about five minutes, but he finally materialized, his hair still mussed from sleep.
He opened the window, but didn’t speak.
“Pete…” I didn’t even know where to start.
Silence.
“Listen, it’s been the worst twenty-four hours ever. How about giving me a break here?”
He laughed, but not nicely. “Give you a break? First you stand me up, then I find you drunk at a party, then I hear you got into a hot tub with my best friend, then thrown in jail…and you suppose only your last twenty-four hours were bad? Po-leeeze.”
I couldn’t imagine I had more tears to cry—was it a never-ending well?—but out they gushed. I didn’t even have time to question how he knew about the country club situation. “I didn’t want to stand you up. I tried explaining that last night. My ride was leaving, so I didn’t know what else to do. And I didn’t plan to go hot-tubbing. That’s where Reese took us. I thought we were going to another party.”
“Did you or did you not get into the hot tub?”
“I did.” Resignation drowned my voice.
“And did you or did you not take most of your clothes off to do so?”
“I didn’t want to even be there, let alone get in. I felt pressured, like I had no choice.”
“You had a choice alright, and you made it. You decided to end your relationship with me when you got in that hot tub naked with someone else.”
“I wasn’t naked, and I didn’t do anything with him.”
“Whatever. Whether you did anything more, that was bad enough. How would you feel if I had done the same thing with another chick?”
I wouldn’t like it. “I see your point, but I love you and only you. How can you not know that?”
“Anna, we’re over. I’m done with this kind of bullshit. You can get into hot tubs with whomever the fuck
