— Chapter 9 —
His Jacket=||=||=
E L L I O T
For the first few seconds after I'd woken up the next morning, I was only aware of the sharp pain in my left wrist. The nightmare from the night before slowly faded out of my mind, until eventually, I'd forgotten entirely.
My father had cornered me to the wall just before sunset the night before. He'd slammed my wrist to the wall. I'd tried to make an effort to get away, but he only shoved me back—effectively clipping my elbow. And, just when I thought the pain couldn't get worse, I'd felt a shooting pain soar down my arm.
I realized quickly that he'd injured a nerve. I'd spent most of last night rubbing my left hand, trying to calm the numbness in my palm and little finger. Perhaps I should've been glad that an injured wrist was the extent of it this time.
But my wrist hurt like a bitch, and I'd run out of painkillers. Not that I would dare go back home, even if I'd had a few left.
I could still remember the petty argument that caused all of it. When I recalled it, I couldn't help but feel fury welling in my chest over how trivial it was.
"Lend me twenty bucks," were the first words my father had said to me after I'd walked into the kitchen. I hadn't realized he'd come home.
I nervously balled my hands into fists behind my back. "I don't have that on me right now," I lied, knowing well that 'lend' was just a meaningless word in his vocabulary.
Knowing him, he'd run out of cash, having spent it all on alcohol already. I didn't plan to endorse him with buying more, especially not when I couldn't afford it.
"You're a fucking liar," he snarled to me. "I already took it out of your wallet."
I spoke carefully, "if you already took it... w-why did you ask?"
"Because I knew you would lie to me! Did I fucking raise you to be like this?" He yelled at me, "don't you have any gratitude for all the shit I do for you?"
"You can't take that money," I pleaded. "It's all the cash I have for food this week. Can't I give it to you another time?"
With what happened next, I realized quickly that I should've kept my mouth shut.
All of that over a small amount of money. It made me angry—so much so that I had to take a heavy breath to calm myself down.
Eventually, I passed my attention came on my surroundings. The park worker that had woken me up the other day hadn't yet found me, thankfully. I really didn't feel like listening to another scolding. Not with the headache at the back of my mind.
I was starving, I was sore, and I wanted to get a decent sleep on a comfortable bed for once. But, unfortunately, things never went my way. My cash for food this week was gone, too, meaning that I'd have to live off whatever was hiding in the fridge back home. I cringed at the thought of it.
Thankfully, there was still another ten-dollar note in the fold of my wallet. Enough for painkillers and a few instant noodle cups. I could make do for a little while... hopefully.
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𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲
عاطفيةWhen shy bartender Elliot is approached by a handsome stranger on a park bench at midnight, their unlikely attraction unravels everything they know about themselves, and the crime-ridden city around them. *** A struggling Elliot Taylor didn't expec...