Oliva and Noah

The arrival (Olivas pov)

                                                                                  A week later

As I lie in bed, my mind brimming with thoughts, I hear the sound of footsteps pacing below me. My mother's voice echoes through my door.  "Are you awake and packed Oliva?" After what feels like seemingly endless hours, I muster the courage to reply. "Yeah... I'll be down in a moment." I say coldly while Listening to her footsteps, while I'm left feeling hollow as she descends the stairs. I gently rise from my bed, surveying the emptiness of my room. The walls, coated in flawless paint, adorned with small crayon marks that chart my growth from childhood. Fleeting childhood memories flood my mind, reminding me of a time when happiness was abundant before it all fell apart. Within minutes, I hurried downstairs, bags in hand. As I walk towards the living room, I notice my father standing there, clad in a black t-shirt and casual blue jeans that end at his ankles. "You ready?" He questions with a smug look on his face. I silently nod my head, avoiding the guilty expressions and apologetic looks etched on my mother's face. I'll come see you soon sweetheart. My mother speaks with a voice that cracks, as though she has been crying. Yeah okay. I speak softly, holding back the tears. Minutes later, my father and I walk to his black Jeep parked in the driveway. After four hours of silent driving, we arrived at a two-story medium-sized brick house in the countryside, complete with a beautiful porch that wrapped around the front. After seconds, the car comes to a stop and my father says, "grab your bags, I'll show you to your room." Silently, without a response, I retrieve my bags from the trunk and follow my father into the house. He guides me upstairs to a small bedroom adorned with white walls, featuring a small twin-sized bed tucked into the room's corner. "Meet me downstairs in 20 minutes so we can talk," he says in a hushed tone, seemingly annoyed by my arrival. Without another word, he closes my door, and I begin to unpack my bags. I arrange my bed and begin adorning my walls with posters, photographs of my friends, and some lights. After decorating my room, I lay down and felt the bed embrace me, as if it absorbed all my anxiety and exhaustion. As I'm lying in bed my phone goes off, ring, ring, ring. I swiftly pick up my phone as my best friend Maria calls. We chat for a few minutes about the awkwardness of moving back in with my father. She's the only one who understands my father's struggles with alcohol and his abusive behavior. After a while of chatting, we end the call. I close my eyes and lie in bed, engulfed in my thoughts. 

 Shortly after, I exit my room, descend the stairs, and enter the living room, where I find my father seated, watching a football game and sipping a beer.  Just the thought of him drinking makes me rethink the whole situation about moving back. "We have to talk about what is going to be expected around this house. This isn't your mother's house. Don't expect to have slack around here." His voice resonates with a deep tone, as if it were assaulting me... After minutes I node my head. "Don't just nod your head, speak to me you brat, I deserve respect." He says annoyed. "I'm sorry. Yes sir."  I respond immediately a little freaked out at the aggressive behavior.  "Thanks," he says with an annoyed tone. "Now you have daily chores to attend to! I expect you to clean the house, wash the dishes and laundry, tidy your room, and prepare dinner. Understood?" His voice echoes in my head like a forewarning.  After a few seconds of silence, I respond with "Yes sir" with a shaky voice. After moments he sends me to my room announcing that I start school tomorrow and that he expects me up and ready by 7am.  When I get inside, I softly shut the door and fall onto my bed with overwhelming thoughts and the feeling of tiredness. Minutes after lying down, sleep envelops me as I close my eyes.                                     

                                                                            Author words

Just a waring next part will contain self-harm, bullying, and abuse. Please remember this story is fiction and not real. I hope are liking it so far! thanks for the support! I love y'all, next part will be posted tomorrow afternoon!