Mutinous

Chapter 8

I woke up early that Saturday. Or much earlier than I normally would, but for once it didn't matter. I knew I had probably only had around seven hours of sleep, which was about two hours less than what I would normally have, yet I did not feel tired and I knew exactly why. It had actually started last week, where I had stayed up cleaning Jen's place until late and still did not feel tired after waken up early. It was kind of like being excited on Christmas Eve or the day before your birthday. Your body might have been tired, but your mind wasn't. It was almost as if being on drugs. Although, the only drug I could think of was not a pill or a fluid it was a human being fairly taller than myself.

It was a foreign feeling being up late just thinking of one person, but I knew what I was feeling was surprisingly normal. Yet, I still thought my body had a strange way of working.

"You better make sure she is not doing anything today!"

"What do you mean? It's not like I'm going to tie her to the bed."

"Keep an eye on her that's all I'm saying. God forbid she will do something she's not supposed to!"

"I know how to look after her, Richard. She's not a child."

"Well last time I checked, she's still our daughter."

"She is, but she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Besides I have work today myself, and I believe she can make the right choice for herself."

Their voices were much louder than normally which worried me. They had been fighting more than what was normal lately, and I began to think that what I believed had been the perfect relationship growing up was far from. They didn't talk much to each other and when they did, they were almost always bickering. I wanted to think it was just because of me, but I got a feeling it was bigger than that, and they seemed to start fighting at every given occasion.

"Can you stop the noise?" Maggie was rubbing her eyes while she walked over to my bed.

"Sorry. Did they wake you?"

"Mmmhh," she mumbled clearly still half asleep. Maggie had never been a morning person, and I felt bad that even on a Saturday she was woken up early.

"Why are they fighting?"

"I think it's because of me. Don't worry about it," I pecked her forehead. "Go back to sleep, Mags," I suggested, and she had fallen back asleep on my bed before I had even exited the room.

"Just make sure she's here when I come home," his voice was still prominent, and I wanted to believe he was worried about me, but I honestly didn't think he was. He just didn't want his daughter around town sleeping with everyone. It would ruin his image. As if I was that kind of girl.

He caught eye contact with me as I walked down the stairs in only a pair of shorts and a t-shirt I had been sleeping in. "Put on some clothes, will you?" His tone of voice was harsh, and I faked him a smile. "If you leave the house today. You better not be coming home at a late hour like yesterday." And with those words he left. I wanted to ask him "or what?" But I knew not to talk to him like that. I had only done it twice. Once when I was eight and then again when I was twelve. Both times it resulted in a slap across the face, and then the tears had started falling. I barely ever cried, so it had definitely hurt when he did it. The first time though I had been too naive to think it would ever happen again. Then the second time around I swore to myself to never do it again. The pain had been bearable, but the shock itself had scarred me much deeper. I never told anyone about it, not even mum. I wasn't sure what she'd done, but I was too afraid then that it would have resulted in them getting a divorce, and I didn't want to be the reason my parents split up. Although now, I knew how wrong his actions had been, and that I should probably have said something to someone a long time ago. But he was still my father, and I couldn't find it in me to do so.