Untold Truth

Chapter 3

I step inside and see the lights off. I quietly walk to the stairs and start to climb up them.

"Why are you home so late?" He says it calmly but I can here the anger under his voice.

"I had to walk..." I say hoping he won't ask why. Hoping that I wouldn't need to explain what had happened.

"Well it shouldn't of taken you this long." Of course he doesn't ask why I walked. He doesn't care. "I thought something happened to you." He speaks like he cares. He doesn't care.

"Sorry," I turn to walk up the steps again. I'm so tired I wish he would just let me leave, before things get out of hand.

"Don't you fucking walk away from me!" He comes up the stairs behind me, his face stuck in a snarl. He grabs my shoulder and yanks me back down towards him, then flings me back so I fall on the floor at the edge of the stairs.

"I... I wasn't. I was really tired. I'm... I'm sorry..." One person I can't fight back to is my own dad. He terrifies me. I know I should be stronger, but I just can't. 

He looks down at me with hatred. "Keep testing my temper young lady," he says, then turns from me. I cringe because I know I was out of line. I shouldn't have walked away from him. I silently curse my self for being so disrespectful to him.

I carefully pull myself up and stand. I try not to make to much noise, so I don't startle him. He turns around and looks at me expectantly. 

"I'm sorry, Dad." It hurts to call him that. He doesn't feel like a dad. He's just the guy I live with.

He smiles and says, "That's a good girl. Now go up to your room and sleep. Oh and you won't be attending school the rest of the year honey."

What!? No school? But that's my escape. I need it. I want to ask why or to protest but I wouldn't dare risk being hurt again. My shoulder is already burning from his grip. So instead I head up to my room and shut the door.

I plop on my bed and the pit of my stomach feels like it wants to ripe out. I don't of course. I don't know why this shocks me. This is normal. This always happens. Same routine. He hurts me and I'm defenseless with him. I'm so stupid. I should never have stepped out of line. No. This isn't right. A daughter should be treated differently. I should just pack my things and leave tomorrow morning. But I know I won't. Can't.

I A small bruise is forming on my shoulder. I sigh, knowing I've definitely had worse from him. As I brush my teeth I can't help but think about that boy from earlier. What could he mean by those things? Who was he? Should I go and find him tomorrow?  What is his story?

One thing that will get on my nerves is him knowing more about me then I do. He got spot on my pet peeve. I think over and over what or who or why he is. I let these thoughts swallow my mind as I fall asleep.