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I burst into tears. I went to my room. I could see the sun shining on the paddocks and I could see where the bottom paddock sloped down towards the creek. The creek was running because of the heavy rain in recent weeks and I felt just a little bit of peace with myself. I heard the back door open. I heard my parents talking quietly. Then louder. Then I could hear my father screaming and I could hear him yelling and screaming about going to the pub. Then I heard the crash of the back door.
Later in the night he came home. I could hear the crash of the back door and my mother yelling. She was telling him to shut up and to stop calling his daughter those terrible names. I could hear him walking down the hall to my room. He kicked the door open. . . He was drunk.
“So here she is, my little girl, my dear little girl, my dear little slut. How many other blokes did you have, that’s what I want to know, how many, that’s for sure?”
“Stop it Jack!” I heard my mother yell from the hall.
Then he vomited.
In the morning he was gone. My mother had cleaned up the mess. The smell was still there. I had to get out of the place. I followed the track down to the creek. There were leaves on the track. Bark had fallen from the trees. There was little wind. I found a rock to sit on just a little way back from the edge of the water. I found peace there. I had been there before. I stayed for a while, looking at the water and watching the ripples over the stones. After a while I decided to head back to the house.
There was a car parked outside. I knew it was the priest from the local church. I did not like him all that much.
