Torturer To Remedy (Short Story)

Acceptance |Chapter 9|

{Kem~ Why Would You Stay}

FAITH'S POV🦋

Lying bundled up in a plethora of covers and blankets, I was emotionally and mentally drained.

A few days had passed since I had my episode. I knew that my window of opportunity was closing the further along I got in this pregnancy. I didn't even know how far along I was...

But for the life of me, I couldn't understand why my father wanted me to keep this baby. Why didn't he want to get rid of the evidence of his actions? Why was he doing this to me? I didn't understand it.

I hadn't been touched since he found out the news; not beaten nor raped. In fact, I'd pretty much been holed up in my room sinking into depression, with the exception of caring for Genesis and performing my daily chores.

Speaking of which...

My alarm sounded as I swiftly silenced it. I laid there for about five more minutes before peeling the covers back and going to my bathroom to perform my usual routine; vomit, pee, brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my hair and pull it up into a bun.

I made my bed and organized my room before leaving out to go get breakfast started. I had approximately forty-five minutes to pack my father's breakfast for work.

I'd decided to make him breakfast wraps that consisted of eggs, bacon, sausage and hash browns with verde breakfast sauce and yogurt topped with fresh fruit and I was going to bake muffins for Gen so I was gonna throw that in there too.

My forehead creased in confusion at the commotion I heard coming from the kitchen. It sounded like glass clinking together and I was usually the only one up at this time.

The light was already on as I came around the corner.

There my father stood dumping out every bit of alcohol he owned whilst the water ran from the faucet. Vodka, Tequila, Whiskey, Scotch, Bourbon and beer bottles lined the countertops. It was a shocking sight to see and I wasn't sure of how to approach it.

"Good morning Daddy." I greeted announcing my presence.

He slowed his actions glancing up at me,"Good morning Faith."

He grabbed the empty bottles discarding them into a heavy duty black plastic bag.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously fidgeting a little.

"Getting rid of all this alcohol." He answered,"I didn't realize it was this much. I still have to go close my tab down at Alden's." That's when I noticed his weed stash sitting on the counter. He promptly trashed that as well.

"Why?" Impulse got the best of me and I couldn't stop myself from asking as long as he was willing to answer.

He sighed. For a second, I thought I'd irritated him and selected to be quiet and get breakfast started, until he said,"I wanna have a talk...with you, later tonight...if that's okay."

If that's okay?

He never ask me if anything's okay.

I stood awkwardly,"Y-Yeah—yes okay."

"Okay." He nodded.

"I'm just gonna, make your breakfast..." I trailed off opening the cabinet in search of a pan.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just gonna grab something along the way." He responded.

What was going on?

My father was a creature of habit so you could imagine my bewilderment by his sudden change in behavior. He didn't care for change. Over the years we'd created a routine and I tried my best not to stray away from that routine in order to avoid the consequences and repercussions. I put all of my efforts into pleasing him, into not making him angry or irritable so I wouldn't have to feel the brute force of his hands.