Thirty-One Days of May

Day 6: Please Don't Leave

"Please don't leave," Angie cried, kneeling on the floor with tears running down her face. This man was her hero. How could he continue to leave her like this, and on tonight of all nights? It was his birthday, for goodness sake. How could he not want to spend it with her?

The woman beside him tugged at his hand. 

"Come on, darling. Leave her be. Just leave her be."

Angie cried as she grabbed the only part of him she could reach from her prone position: his ankle. He yelped as he almost tripped, and he cursed. She never heard him say words like that before, at least not when he knew she was listening. 

Today he'd picked her up straight after they'd finished work, and they'd had such a good time together. A long walk, a slice of carrot cake, her favourite, and then he'd brought her home. He'd cooked dinner, and she'd been so happy until he'd revealed that once again he was leaving her. She hadn't done anything to deserve this. Yes, she sometimes was sneaky, she liked to play her little games from time to time, but he was supposed to love her without limits. He was not supposed to punish her by leaving, and she'd had enough. If he left again tonight, someone would pay. 

Over the repeated protests of the woman standing impatiently at the door, he came close again and crouched, laying a hand on her hair. He ignored the way the woman criticized him for coddling a mere child. See, it was statements like that which made her 'daddy's girl' rather than 'mummy's girl'.

"It's just for a couple of hours, sweetheart. Mummy and I will be back in a couple of hours." He rose to his feet, and in desperate agony she turned to her mother who was still waiting for her husband to join her side. 

"Please, Mum. Let me come. Don't leave me with her."

They both left and in disbelief, Angie turned to see the girl staring at her. She hated this girl, no more than at this very moment. She hated her short, spiky hair and the dark lines beneath her eyes. She hated the way her jeans are ripped at the knees – honestly, if your clothes have holes, buy new ones. 

She hated the black on her lips, and the way the corners of her mouth twisted upwards in an attempt to appear friendly. Well, that certainly was not going to work. The secret box beneath her bed was armed with supplies to ensure this girl never set foot in her house again. Perhaps there was the very realistic slime frog, though that probably wouldn't scare this girl. She just looked like a frog-lover. Maybe the spiders with the jelly legs. Most people didn't love it when a shower of those dropped on their unsuspecting heads. What if she showed her how she could successfully throw up on command? That was sure to gross her out, and if she drank some green cordial beforehand that would be even better. 

This girl was now her worst enemy, even if they had never met before today. She'd successfully rid herself of everyone else who had tried. Eventually her parents would give up, and accept that they couldn't go out without her again. 

"It's okay, Angie. You know they won't be gone for long."

With a scowl, she crossed her arms. She enjoyed the mild panic that came into the girl's eyes as she took in the appearance of her charge, and she especially loved the way that look intensified when the following words left her lips. 

"You'll wish they never left in the first place."

~~~