Free Sanctuary of Mine by S. Pratt, Emily Dawson Page B

prepared to face me off if I hear one single ugly word.
     

Chapter Thirteen
    Mackenzie
     
    Hearing them yelling at each other brings back a flood of memories. This time Jim is in on the action as well, throwing his two cents in for whoever will listen. The carpet in my bedroom is doing nothing to muffle the shouts in the kitchen. What was supposed to be a happy reunion with my dad is fast becoming a chaotic mess of hateful swearing and accusatory finger pointing. Our milkshake date had gone just fine, with him getting a chance to tell me about his most recent deployment. It was my absence while freshening up before dinner that opened up the floodgate, my dad seizing the opportunity to let loose on my mother.
     
    Their conversation stings. It makes me realise I’m not as good at concealing my disease as I thought.
    ‘Are you fucking blind? How can you not see how skinny she is!’
    ‘I see, Chris, but she’s a teenager. Between work and running this family there’s only so much I can do to keep an eye on her. I can’t keep her locked up forever you know!’
    ‘Well you could damn well be doing a lot more than you have been!’ Dad’s furious tone echoes through the house.
    ‘We do try to force food on her mate. But I think it’s a little more than that, don’t you?’ Jim is trying to be the peacemaker.
    ‘Do you think she’s not happy here with you?’
    ‘Of course she is!’ My mother seems indignant to say the least.
    ‘All I’m saying is that she must miss you while you’re gone so long. I don’t think your divorce has been easy on Mackenzie at all.’
    ‘Well that makes two of us,’ snaps dad.
     
    There’s silence amongst the torrent of words, neither party sure what to say next. Hearing my parents arguing over me, I know I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hide how I feel, nor conceal the hatred I feel towards my own mother. The truth needs to come out. Brushing tears from my cheeks, I take a deep breath and make my way downstairs towards the kitchen.
     
    Three sets of eyes are glued to my tiny frame when I enter the silence that has greeted my arrival. Anger emanates from my dad, while the other two are clearly in defence mode. I’m about to make or break this family with my confession, but either way, it needs to be said.
     
    ‘I heard you.’ All of my focus in on my mother.
    ‘Talking about your weight?’
    ‘No. Well yes, that too. You’re right; I do have an eating disorder. It’s the only way I know how to cope. But that’s not what I’m talking about.’
    ‘What do you mean honey?’ My dad is gently stroking my arm and I am lulled into a trance like state – a bit like a snake as it sways before it strikes. I know I’m speaking in monotone but , to be honest, if I let myself feel anything right now I’m going to come apart at the seams.
    ‘I’m talking about your argument before you got divorced.’ Nobody says anything, but I’m sure my mum just turned ten shades whiter.
    ‘You thought I was asleep. You thought I couldn’t hear you. You thought you were alone when you said it.’ My voice catches ever so slightly, the threat of hysteria ready to break the dam wall any minute.
    ‘Say what honey? What did she say?’ My dad obviously knows I am talking to my mother, because my vacant eyes can only stare in her direction, devoid of love or emotion.
    ‘She said she wished I was never born.’ It’s almost like I didn’t say it. Almost. But I am confident the whisper of words definitely left my lips. The look on her face tells me so. Her hand flies to her mouth to cover her shock. She’s mortified and remorseful, but it matters none to me. My lip trembles and I start to shake, adrenalin taking over.
    ‘You said that, I heard you,’ I choke, a sob escaping my lips.
     
    Jim shakes his head in disgust and leaves the room. My dad reaches for me, so I let him hold me tight while I’m wracked with sobs that consume me. I’m scaring myself with the amount of tears that