𝔻𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 // 𝓚𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓪 𝓐𝓴𝓪𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓮 𝓧 𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

{8} Time to Make Out... I Mean Up

Once it was unlocked he opened it and lightly shoved me inside. Then he walked in, closing and locking the door. He then made his way to my bedroom. What is he doing?

I followed him in there and he grabbed the deck of cards, we used on Friday, out of a drawer. He wants to play cards? 

Is that what this is about? Seriously. He tried to beat me up because he can't fucking win a game of Slap Jack?

He sat in my bed and began to shuffle the cards.

Tugboat ran into the room and jumped on the bed, then he tried to lick Karma's face. Karma calmly grabbed him and pet him to stop him from getting slobbered on. I walk out and call Tugboat. I go to the kitchen and feed him. I go back to my room and Karma is just staring at me. He already dealt the cards and is waiting.

"Get out," I say pointing to the door.

"No. Sit down and play me."

"Like you played me?"

"What?"

"Like how you fucking pretended to care? Like how you made me think I actually mattered to someone?"

"(Y/N), sit down. Let's play."

"No. You're just like the rest of them, Karma."

"Who?" He snarled as he stood up and walked to me.

"Everyone! You fucking lied. You made me feel wanted and then you left. You didn't give me a reason. You just walked out. Now you want me to accept that you're in my house, without my permission, again? No."

"Sit down," he said, growing visibly angry. "Now. We are playing-"

"No! Get the fuck out Karma!" I yelled. I felt tears sting my eyes. I'm such a baby. Why am I crying over this? It's not anything I'm not used to.

He steps towards me, grabbing one of my arms and my other shoulder, then he pushes me against a wall. "I'm not doing this right now. We are going to pla-"

"Shut up."

"What?" He growled.

"Shut up. Get out."

He was quiet. He just stared at me. I watched the anger build up inside of him. He let go of my shoulder and raised his arm to punch me. I just stared him in the eye. "Do it. Go ahead. Fucking hit me, Karma! Do it! Be just like him. Prove to me that you're fucking just like him."

"Like who?" He said, arm froze, still ready to punch me.

"My step-dad. Go ahead. Give me another reason to hate you."

"You hate me?" I feel his grip on my arm loosen and then tighten again as he gets even more angry.

"Is it all just about violence with you? Does it hurt to just show your friends some affection every now and then?"

"We aren't friends."

"Then get out," He let go of me and stared at the wall beside my head. "Please, leave. If you won't talk to me like a normal person, get out."

"Why didn't you add hitting you into your list of reasons?" He asked.

"What list of reasons?"

"You said I left. I walked out. Made you think I cared. You named the bad stuff I did. Everything, except me hitting you, until I raised my hand. Why?"

"I don't know."

He sighed, putting his hand on the wall beside me head, trapping me between him, the wall, and a bookshelf.