Midnight's Promise

Chapter 5

"Yeah, it's me," I reply, quickly shutting the front door and sneaking inside. My brain keeps chanting to myself, "Don't wanna do this, don't wanna do this,' but there's no way I can get out of it now. I walk into the house slowly, my head darting left and right looking for danger, or more like it Paul. I tell myself I look like a crazy meerkat and I have to stifle the hysterical giggle that is threatening to explode.

When I walk into the kitchen I find Paul sitting at the kitchen table, he's got his head in his hands and there's a picture of my mum sitting on the table in front of him. It's exactly the same as the one I hide in the bottom draw of my end table.

"You've been in my room," My voice is so quiet I can hardly hear it, yet its enough to draw Paul out of his turtle shell. He turns his head to look at me and there's enough sadness in his eyes to make me take a step back. I hate him like this, I can never tell if it's real or an act. He sighs as he shrugs his shoulders, as if thats enough of an answer towards invading my privacy. Now that he's looking at me, I can see the stubble on his chin and the black eye he must have got at the pub, and at that moment I hate myself for feeling pity towards this horrible man. My hand instinctively draws to my side when all the bruises crowd and Paul notices my small amount of movement.

"Im so sorry Adelaide, you know I can't control myself when I drink," He says, trying to hold eye contact with me. His statement makes me so angry, it's as if he thinks a simple apology will fix all the damage he's done to me. How he's broke me.

"It's alright," I mumble," It's not that bad, just a couple of bruises, it'll heal,"

"Are you sure, want me to have a look at it,?" He asks, slowly taking a couple steps in my direction. I shake my head but he still continues to walk towards me.

"No!" I yell as I step back, re-creating the distance between us, I can feel myself shaking slightly and I don't know if he has noticed. The idea of him being that close to me while he pretends to be all fatherly is enough to make me want to run. Bolt for the door and not pretend anymore.

"I really mean it Adelaide, I'm sorry," He says, giving me a look that asks me to forgive him. I nod, my eyes falling at my feet, I don't want to be in this position anymore, I don't want to feel pressured into forgiving him. Even if it is fake.

"I know, I'm just tired from school. I think I want to go to bed and rest," I say, slowly walking towards the staircase. Paul nods and says, "Sure, thats fine, we can talk later,"

I nod but I know its never gonna happen, he'll probably be drunk again tonight. As usual. I give Paul one last glance, he's returned to his chair and has his head in his hands again. I also see my photo still sitting on the table. I can't leave it there with him, or I'll never get it back and I'll be forced into slowly forgetting the one person who might have loved me. I sigh as I slowly walk over to the table, grabbing the photo resting on the table top. The movement must have caught Paul's attention because his hand shoots up and grabs my wrist in a painful grasp. His nails dig in and I can feel the blood flow to my finger tips slowing. I notice I'm holding my breath as I stand in that moment of pure terror.

When he relaxes his grasp, I quickly pull my arm out of his hold, clutching the photo so tightly in my right hand. I turn and run up the stairs as I struggle to regain my even breathing.

***

Once I make my escape to my bedroom, I start to feel the very thing holding me together start to break. The lump in my throat is growing bigger and I feel like just giving up and crying. Taking a deep breath in, I sit down on my bed and try to regain a small part of myself. The constant fear of Paul banging my door down forces me to keep watch of my bedroom door.