spooky◇rafe cameron

chapter 5

John B drove me to my house and on the way I explained him everything that happened today. He told me he would pick me up tomorrow at 1pm. That means I can sleep in, so I'm happy with it. I also asked him to tell the pogues so I don't have to do it he agreed to that.

I hope this job is going to be fine but for that amount of money I won't complain about anything. I mean I probably don't have to work as long as at the Wreck but I get paid the double. The only thing is that I don't always know when Ward will need me, but I don't really care about it, to be honest.

After I got out of the van I headed to my door, JB already drove off which left me alone standing there. I took in a breath before unlocking the door. I made my way to the living room looking if my dad was home ''Dad, are you here?''

''Where the fuck were you, huh?'' I heard a deep voice from behind me. I quickly turned arround abd the moment I looked into my fathers brown eyes, I saw how high out of his mind he was.

''Don't act like you care. If you really cared you could have just texted me, but you didn't. And to answer your question I was at a friends house and working, atleast one of us gas to pay the bills.'' I stated. I was mad at him I don't even know why specifacly. Maybe because he was on drigs as always or because he didn't even care enough about me to call or text one time.

''What the fuck do you mean I don't fucking care. Why else would I go to Barrys lookin' for ya. I was so worried I had to get my head of things. It's because of you.'' His eyes darkened and his words stung like a knife.

''My fault? You say you being an addict is my fault. If you really were so worried you could have come to the Wreck where I worked or as I said texted me.'' I shot back all my anger and hurt taking out on him.

''Yeah your fault. Just like the death of your mother. This never would have happened without you.'' He yelled at me. I felt the tears peaking in my eyes as I tried to hold them back. How could he say that?

''I shouldn't have come back.'' I mumbled. I tried to walk past him to get to my room, get my stuff and get out of the place I once called home.

As I moved past him he harshly grabbed my upper arm. He digged his fingers deep into my flesh, I was sure it would leave marks tomorrow, if not already now. ''You think you can just turn your fuckin' back on me!?'' He asked as I tried to escape his grip.

Within a second his fist collided with my ribs and I fell to the floor. ''Do I need to teach you some fuckin' manners?'' He yelled aggresively while kicking into my abdomen and my ribcage.

I wanted to stand up. I wanted to move him away from me but I couldn't. I couldn't hit my own father. How ironic, isn't it. I cannot bring myself to get him away from me while he has no mercy on me. That's not my dad, these are the fucking drugs. He would never lay a finger on me. At least not sober. I know that, right?

After a few kicks he turned arround leaving me there on the kitchen floor. He sat himself on the couch, drinking a beer and blacking out after like 5 minutes. I groaned in pain tears streaming down my cheeks. After I regained some of my strenght I tried to stand up. My body felt like shit and I slowly made my way to my room. I took the first-aid-kit from my drawer and put some ointment on my bruises.

After I finished I looked for an outfit, that would cover the bruises, for tomorrow, I didn't need anybody to know about this. I found a thight-black top with sleeves that reached my elbow. It was long enough to cover my upper body. I took some blue jeans-shorts which reached a little above midthigh. I guess that will make it.

I packed my bag with fresh clothes, I didn't really need more since most of my stuff was already at John Bs. The sun was gobe by now so I decided to go to bed. I locked my door just in case, it kind of became a habbit, always when I slept in my house I locked the door. The moment I layed down in a comfortable position, in which my body didn't hurt, I drifted of to sleep since I was exhausted from the day.