What If?

Getting to know Papa.

This chapter is dedicated to lovebug7 for being the first one to comment on my story. Thanks a bunch.

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Sorry it took so long to upload. Been busy. Life, you know. Well I'm going to stop talking. Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. Thanks and enjoy your ride on "Chapter 4".

Chapter 4.

Getting to Know Papa

Dinner that night was torture. A full hour of "You need to tell us where you are at all times young lady!" and "What if you had gotten hurt?" I sat and twirled my spaghetti, nodding, and adding in an "I understand" every once in a while. I kept my head down and stared at my food the majority of the time.

“So from now on, cellphone, at all times, and you must tell us where you are going, with whom, and when you will be leaving and coming home, do you understand?” Papa said, for the millionth time.

“Yes Papa, I understand. I’m sorry. I was with Jason. We just went to get ice cream, that’s all. Okay?” I was getting annoyed. I’m almost seventeen, and they still don’t trust me to be off on my own.

“I know you said that already, but I care about ya and I don’t want you getting hurt. Alright darlin’?” HA! You care about me? Good one, I thought.

“Yes Papa.” I wasn’t in the mood for any more arguing.

"May I be excused?" I finally asked after I assumed they were done pointlessly lecturing me.

"Finish your damn vegetables Sophia! You don't appreciate your mama's cookin'?" Papa spat.

"Yes of course I do, I just-"

"Go ahead sweetie. Head on up to your room" Mama said. I looked at her. She was staring straight forward at the wall and she had a really tight grip on her fork. Her knuckles were white. I looked between her face and Papa's, and decided to leave before the situation got any worse.

I walked out of the kitchen and ascended up the creaky wooden steps. As soon as I got to the top of the stairs, I heard a loud smack, a crash, and the sound of glass breaking. I froze in my spot and after a debate between my head and my heart, I decided to go and investigate. When I got to the doorway I looked and saw mama on the floor, holding her cheek in a crouching position. Papa was standing over her, looking at her with hatred. His hand outstretched.

I gasped and ran to Mama and knelt down next to her. She instinctively put herself in between my father and I.

"Mama are you alright? What did he do? Here, I'll-" she reached her hand to silence me and only then did I realize that she had a handprint on her face. A perfect outline of my father's hand. It was reddish-purple around the edges. This completely infuriated me. I pushed myself off the hardwood floor and gathered up the courage to confront my father.

I lunged toward him and pushed his chest. It was a really bad push. It barely fazed him. He stumbled back a little and became even angrier than he was before. He came back toward me and before I could react, he had his fingers on the back of my head, gripping my hair and pulling my head toward the floor. I winced in pain and cried out for my mother. "It hurts Mama. It hurts. Help me! It hurts!"

She jumped up from the floor and attempted to pull me from my father. He wasn't letting go. She yanked on my arm and screamed at my father. He only screamed back.

"Damnit Linda! Let me punish my child! I'm just teaching the girl a lesson!" he screamed. His strong fingers were ripping out my hair in chunks, and I was screaming in pain, probably only making the situation worse by screaming, but I couldn’t help it. I was scared.