The Me You Can't See (H.S)

68

Haven's POV:

I've played this out in my head a million times over, with a million different scenarios. But nothing could have prepared me for this. 

He's here. In my living room drinking my liquor and smoking my cigarettes. I force my vision to not blur and my ears to stop ringing as I accept what's in front of me. 

This isn't a dream anymore, this is reality. 

 "Hello Avery."

He looks the same as I left him. Greyer than last but alas dear old dad virtually hasn't aged a day. Sat in his navy blue, 3-piece suit, I want nothing more than to kill him. 

The sound of his voice shakes my bones but it's his smell that has the hairs on my arms standing straight up. It's all around me and the musky spiced scent of his cologne pulls me back a decade to the scared little girl whose father tried to ruin her. 

But I'm not her anymore. 

Calmly I walk down the hallway towards him and stopping at my entryway table, I open the drawer, pulling out a small handgun I always keep hidden.

Walking closer to him, I fiddle with the weapon. Reloading the clip, I cock it, a bullet now in the chamber before slowly and smoothly pointing it in his direction.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now?" I say and I can feel myself begin to vibrate with fear that I refuse to acknowledge and rage, I willingly let consume me. 

"Is that how you greet your father after all these years Avery? Come on, I raised you better than that." he says almost lecturing me. 

"I'm not gonna ask again Malcolm." I say, venom spitting at the tip of my tongue, my teeth gritting with years' worth of rage and I completely disregard his statement.

His jaw tightens and I know he's not appreciating my attitude. "Because you have questions that I can't answer dead." he shrugs, picking out a fresh cigarette from my pack. 

He's right and he knows it too. I bite my tongue and simply watch him light and take a drag from my cigarettes. "Come on, you're not the tiniest bit curious...Sunny?" he says and I do my best to hide the shiver that has just wracked my entire body. 

"Where did you hear that?" I ask icily. 

"You've grown up." he says cutting me off and I watch as he eyes me up and down. 

Tapping the end of his cigarette my scars start to burn, but I push down the feeling, willing it not to exist. "You're walking a dangerous line." I spit.

"Oh I'm going to enjoy this." Maclcom speaks but I barely register his words, my hands tightening around the barrel when he suddenly moves. "Relax, I'm just getting a folder." he reaches into his suit and produces a manila envelope.  

Tossing it on the table I make no move to get it, my eyes locked on every move he makes. "Go ahead, open it." he encourages. "I'm not going to do anything. Scouts honour." Holding up his right hand, my own itches to pull the trigger and shoot a hole clean through him . "I wouldn't want to miss this."

With one hand firmly around the handle of the gun, I use my other to reach out and grab the folder. 

I wish I never opened this file. 

"How long have you known?" I ask him, referring to my death, or rather lack there as I open up the file. "About 6 months, give or take."

I don't allow my shock to show. 6 months? He couldn't have truly known for six months, had he?