Chapter 25

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Several years ago...

My father's genius was always said to have come from his hands, the two tongs of metal which belted my face from inside out. They recycled scraps, shook their first overseas deal, surreptitiously looking for their second,  and ran through the clasped waves of Women's buns till their curls came crashing down to the docks of hotel bed frames. But those hands were never for the touch of a little girl, they weren't for the inexperienced.  So when my one eye spun up to the chandeliers I knew that he hadn't hugged me. All I'd seen was thirty seconds which knocked me to the floor. And then I woke up to a crackling throb in my head and my legs squeezed together. I still wanted to play him my tune. A Mockingjay sat teasingly above me in the courtyards. The trees shook disagreeing only with my choices. The Mockingjay started echoing my song. as if first a warning, then a revelation, struck dangerously high. I looked down.  It was then that I felt nothing from my left eardrum, and a rippling line of red shot down the hallway floor, round the piano and running towards my  Father's shoes. Trying to catch up with his speed, and at least, touch a part of him. 

His heels swerved left and a door hinge creaked and thudded shut. The blood hit the door and I blacked the hell out. That was the first and last time, I tried to make him smile.

A/N I know this is small, but I'm still thinking of what comes next, see u soon.

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