Page 173 - The Houseguest

have a chance. He registered her, walked her to the bus and handed her a lunch he’d made, nicely packaged in a brown bag. Soon they had a routine down, including homework and a bedtime. Victor didn’t pay much attention. It seemed at that point, as long as they left him alone, he’d repay the favor. Aside from the physical abuse Brian had become accustomed to, mostly on the evenings when a check arrived in the mail and a new bottle of whiskey found its way into the kitchen, one might say they were functioning in the dysfunction.
Another unexpected memory surfaced of Laura running down the driveway excitedly yelling: “Brad! Look! Look!” She must’ve been ten or twelve by then and had won a contest at school. She was so proud of the small clay figure she held in her hand with the blue First Place Ribbon attached. He couldn’t recognize what the oddly shaped orange statue was supposed to replicate, but he praised her repeatedly. He was so proud of her that he placed the prized creation on the window sill in the kitchen to show her how delighted he was about her accomplishment.
The next morning was Saturday and Laura was the first in the kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. Their father usually slept in after a drunken Friday night, so she’d be safe until Brian arrived. Before eating, she had rushed to the window sill to admire her handiwork again, when Brian heard her cry out. He jumped out of bed and darted to the kitchen, prepared for battle with his father. Instead, he saw his sister standing looking down into the sink. He walked up behind her and saw her little masterpiece shattered into a thousand pieces. Then he
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life