"You don't want me..." I breathed, selfishly leaning into his touch. But I quickly pull away.
"I'm different and so not your type," I muttered, looking everywhere else but at him. He frowns slightly, eyes simmering.
"God, Anna." He exhaled, cool bre...
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March
'My wife is 5 weeks pregnant today.'
MICHAEL
"Mommy? Where are we going?"
I looked up at her with wonder and curiosity. she only smiled down at me. So tenderly, holding onto my hand as she walked us into the big house she drove us up into. My mother rings the doorbell and the door was quickly open. It's like whoever it was, was expecting us—or her.
"Zara." A tall man. So big and strong walks out. He smiles at her, staring with so much intensity. then his eyes falls to me. I shyly move to hide behind my mother and he just chuckles, the sparkle in his eyes still evident. His dark eyes were so bright with joy—relief.
He suddenly pulls my mother into his arms, hugging her. Crying and laughing at the same time.
"Say hi, Michael." Her soft voice called after they reluctantly pulled away from each other. Almost inseparable.
"H-hi," I whispered , still hiding behind her legs. The man offered me a smile...but it didn't last. Suddenly I'm was in a room, under a bed with a pair of shoes in my face. I was hiding. Hiding from my father because he was after me.
"Come out and face me like a man!" He yelled, slurring half of his sentence. I flinch and that draws his attention. Terror fills my entire being, sweat trickles down my face as i count the seconds with my eyes pinched closed.
"Got you!" He grabs me by the leg and pulls me out. my head hurts from knocking into something.
"Always crying like a baby! You can never become anyone with these pathetic tears." The back of his hands knocked me over.
"Stop." I mutter. But he kept stalking closer.
"Your mother is gone! Crying is not going to bring her back—" his eyes lands on my desk to find the papers scattered over on it. He slowly turned to me, I crawled backwards until my back hits the wall with nowhere to go.
nowhere.
"I've told you to stop writing! You are to become a successful man like me! I agreed to playing sports so you drop the pathetic obsession!" He stomps towards me with raised fists. his eyes filled with rage and he hits me. fist knocking me, over and over.
"A writer can't make a fucking living!" He stumbled but gained his balance. I raise my hands to shield myself from his brutal fists. uncontrollable tears rolling down. but that only fuels him the more. My father grabs my hands with one of his, pinning me down as he delivered each beating. smacks me across the face.
