Never Lose Hope

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Apparently Aunt Rebekah went on a date with Professor S. last night and she still hasn't come home. Dad and Uncle Kol have been whispering and giggling about it all morning like a couple of giddy soccer moms hopped up on their kid's ADHD meds, gossiping on the sidelines with their coffee thermoses filled with wine they think nobody knows about. Maybe I can parlay this distraction to my advantage, or maybe not. I quietly crept up the stairs, going to my room to change out of my pajamas.

Suddenly my dad appeared out of nowhere in my doorway. Damn, he must've seen me come up here afterall. I bet Uncle Kol left to meet up with his obnoxious girlfriend, leaving my father unoccupied.

"What are you doing?" Dad asked, seeing me lacing up my running shoes, clad in my jogging attire. "Cami is going to be here any minute for your therapy session."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I replied with quite a bit of attitude. "I'm skipping my stupid therapy session and going for a run."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," my father stated, grabbing me by the arm as I stood up to leave.

"I don't need anymore stupid therapy, Dad. I'm fine. Mom is dead and there's no changing that. I'm over it." I grabbed my earbuds with my free hand. "You should get over it too," I replied rudely. I didn't care, I was annoyed with always being told what to do.

"You are going to attend your therapy session, young lady. This is not up for debate." My dad tightened his grip around my upper arm.

"No I'm not!" I tried unsuccessfully to free myself from my father's hold. "I don't need therapy anymore. Don't pretend this is about me and your concern for my mental health. You just want me to keep having sessions so you can keep fucking that whore you call my therapist."

Dad slapped me across the face, utterly shocking me. Even though he didn't do it hard, I still couldn't believe he hit me like that. He's never put his hands on me except to spank my ass, which I'm not a big fan of either, by the way, but this was just different. Holding my cheek, I peered up at my father and couldn't understand why he looked so afraid. I mean, I'm the victim here.

Granted, what I said may have been a tad inappropriate and I'm honestly not sure where that insult at Cami came from but he has no right to act hurt. Maybe I'm just pissed at them both because of their ulterior motives. They don't care about me. All they care about is each other. I'm just some kind of pawn in this sick twisted chess game. I'm so angry right now, I'm shaking.

"Hope," my dad said, reaching out to me.

"No, don't touch me," I said, as I tried to slow my rapidly beating heart and erratic breathing. The furniture in the room started violently vibrating and the mirror above my dresser shattered. It was as if there was an earthquake but I felt like it was somehow because of me, almost like I created it or something. I don't understand what's happening right now. I have to get out of here. I ran from the room.

My father followed after me down the stairs.

"Hope, wait!"

"NO!" I screamed, briefly stopping my rapid descent to turn and face him. "YOU HIT ME AND I HATE YOU!"

"HOPE!" my father yelled, trying to stop me.

"No, don't! Just get away from me!" Now at the bottom of the stairs, I whipped around to face him "YOU'RE A MONSTER, JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER MIKAEL!" I spat at him in anger. I was too furious to see the crestfallen look that flashed across my dad's face upon hearing my accusation, before he vamped out of the compound at the speed of light.