It Ends with Us

in through the kitchen door. It was work stuff and a few groceries. I was helping her
bring everything inside when my dad pulled up in the driveway. He started honking
his horn because he was mad that my mom was parked in the garage. I guess he
didn’t want to have to get out of his car in the snow. That’s the only thing I can
think of that would make him want her to move her car right then and there, instead
of just waiting until she was finished unloading it. Come to think of it, why does my
father always get the garage? You would think a man wouldn’t want the woman he
loves to get the shittier parking spot.
Anyway, my mother got that real scared look in her eye when he started honking
and she told me to take all her stuff to the table while she moved her car out.
I’m not sure what happened when she went back outside. I heard a crash, and
then I heard her scream, so I ran to the garage thinking maybe she had slipped on
ice.
Ellen . . . I don’t even want to describe what happened next. I’m still a little
shocked by the whole thing.
I opened the garage door and didn’t see my mom. I just saw my dad behind the
car doing something. I took a step closer and realized why I couldn’t see my mom. He
had her pushed down on the hood with his hands around her throat.
He was choking her, Ellen!
I might cry just thinking about it. He was yelling at her, staring down at her
with so much hatred. Something about not having respect for how hard he works. I
don’t know why he was mad, really, because all I could hear was her silence while
she struggled to breathe. The next few minutes are a blur, but I know I started
screaming at him. I jumped on his back and I was hitting him on the side of his
head.
Then I wasn’t.
I don’t really know what happened, but I’m guessing he threw me off of him. I
just remembered one second I was on his back and the next second I was on the
ground and my forehead hurt like you wouldn’t believe. My mom was sitting next to
me, holding my head and telling me she was sorry. I looked around for my dad, but
he wasn’t there. He’d gotten into his car and drove off after I hit my head.
My mom gave me a rag and told me to hold it to my head because it was bleeding
and then she helped me to her car and drove me to the hospital. On the way there she
only said one thing to me.
“When they ask you what happened, tell them you slipped on the ice.”

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When she said that, I just looked out my window and started crying. Because I
thought for sure this was the final straw. That she would leave him now that he had
hurt me. That was the moment I realized that she’d never leave him. I felt so
defeated, but I was too scared to say anything to her about it.
I had to get nine stitches in my forehead. I’m still not sure what I hit my head on,
but it doesn’t really matter. The fact is, my father was the reason I was hurt and he
didn’t even stay and check on me. He just left us both there on the floor of the garage
and left.
I got home really late last night and fell right to sleep because they had given me
some kind of pain pill.
This morning when I walked to the bus, I tried not to look directly at Atlas so he
wouldn’t see my forehead. I had fixed my hair so that you couldn’t really see it and
he didn’t notice right away. When we sat down next to each other on the bus, our
hands touched when we were putting our stuff on the floor.