Fight For Me, Will •slow updates•

Chapter Eleven

After a dinner of ham and small talk, Will and I now sat on the same love seat as earlier, both reading Moby Dick that lay in Will's palms. The close proximity was distracting, causing me to continuously reread a word until he turned the page.

"How was your day?" He asked politely, shutting the book and turning his head towards me.

"Not too exciting, just tidied and met your friends. Hopefully you won't have to put up with me for too long, I will be looking for a place to get out of your hair."I said, "How was your day?"

He blew off my question, "I'm not putting up with you, Angel. I really do enjoy your company. Don't rush to look for a place when there is no need, plus where else can I find a beautiful reading partner and house cleaner?" He ended jokingly. I smiled up at him, so grateful to meet him.

"How was your day though?"

He then went on to tell me how he was lucky to get another shift at the docks, though he wasn't the biggest fan of it. He then proceeded to tell me a story about how when he first started, the older men covered him in sacks of flour and he couldn't get out, causing me to laugh. He also said he met Kyle through Dan there, "Dan and I were working a shift together and Kyle popped out if nowhere and tackled Dan, I was concerned, but they told me they had been pals for a while."

"They seem like good friends of yours," I noticed, pulling a blanket over our laps.

"Very much so, they are very supportive guys, I'm glad to have them around"

The conversation slowly died down, and we sat in a comfortable silence. My mind wasn't as quiet as the room around, but I tried my best not to listen. His body heat radiated on my side, and I felt comfort but yet still so distant.

I don't know how long we sat there, but my eye lids grew heavier and heavier until my head tilted back and small snores emitted from my mouth.

I was sat on the bed from my childhood, staring at a younger version of Woody and I. Our mother entered the room, and I wanted to scream out to her and wrap my arms around her frame, but I was immobile.

Little us greeted her with smiles, and I could tell she was trying her hardest to smile back. As she checked on us, a loud slamming of the front door made us all turn our heads. Along with heavy boots making their way down the hall.

There stood a younger version of my father, dressed in work pants and suspenders, bottle in hand. He was quick to my mother, screamed profanities in her face. I then remembered this wasn't just a dream, it was memory I had worked so hard to forget.

He grabbed my mother's hair and tossed her to the ground. This caused the young kids to retaliate, only causing him more anger.

"If either of you take a step, I swear to god I will remove your heads like the chickens!" He screamed, silencing us instantly. Silent tears streamed down little Woody's face as he watched his father start to undress his mother in front of all their very eyes.

Once my father finished his disturbing actions, he turned to young me, causing screams to erupt. These screams blending into my own as I woke from the terrible memory.

Sorry this is so short! I hope to update soon and get this moving faster and more into the story. Hope you enjoy