"Steve... Steve... STEVE!"
Noah's foster father, Steve, was too concentrated on the television show that he barely noticed his wife screaming into his ear.
"Ah, what is it naa?" he replied with a roll of the eyes and a grumpy frown.
"Can you not hear that? A girl is crying upstairs, and unless you hadn't noticed, Kat is the only girl in this house." After a few seconds of pausing, she added: "Apart from me, of course."
The stout man cupped his hand to his cauliflower ears that had been deformed from the years of playing rugby in his youth. He was no longer that same energetic boy. Several seconds past before the man could finally register the sounds coming from above.
"Yeah, I guess vat might be 'er."
Sighing in order to show her frustration with the man, Steve's wife stood up and yanked his arm until it nearly came out of it's socket. The aftermath was quite humorous; Steve had the most shocked look on his potato-like face.
"A-awright! I'm comin'!" he replied, in a shaky shout. His wife led the way, arms crossed, a stern look planted onto her. He followed her up the stairs, huffing and puffing and out of breathe every couple of steps. The two eventually walked across the narrow landing, and stood outside Katrina's door.
Knocking five times impatiently, Sienna (the wife) called to her daughter.
"Kat. Now, come on. We can hear you crying. But you know how the saying goes; there's no use crying over spilt milk. So, come on. Open up. We won't bite. Well. I know I won't," she added sneakily, before receiving a rather furious look from her husband.
"I-I'd rather not," a small voice mumbled from the other side of the door. If you listened carefully, you would be able to hear soft sniffles and the crumpling of tissues.
"Nah... if you dan't open up this door, Kat, I'm afraid a'll 'ave to knock it daan." Steve realised this sounded familiar, and after a scratch on the head of confusion, he remembered that he often said this in his house. It could be seen as his catchphrase, really.
A shuffle of feet followed.
Kat's cold, pale white hand rested on the doorknob on the other side.
If she opened the door, she risked the wrath of her father if he found out about Noah.
She also risked them hunting him down somehow. Yes, his father was rather plump, but he could travel wide distances if he really felt the need.
But what other choice did she have?
Regretting the decision, Kat slowly turned the doorknob until her face could be seen peeping through the crack.
"Good girl. Now, let me come in. We can have a chat. I'll leave your father out here. He can get a beer or something."
"Y'all do nah such thing!" Steve instructed, his voice travelling throughout the house. "Nah, why are ya cryin'? Has idiot boy been an idiot again? Just tell me!" The man had a short temper and he was getting near the end of his burning rope.
"H... he... well, you see..."
She burst into tears, the water streaming down her cheeks, and crumpled to her knees.
"EH? TELL ME NAH!"
Kat couldn't believe it. This must have been the first time her father had shouted at her.
"He... HERANAWAYOKANDICOULDN'TDOANYTHINGABOUTITITWASALLYOURFAULT!" she choked out, in one furious breathe. "...He ran away."
And for once, the man had nothing to say.
He had underestimated the boy, thinking he was too scared to run away.
He felt like smashing everything together, maybe even killing someone.
But he was too angry. Too angry to let it out.
Instead, he grabbed his raincoat, stormed outside the house, and slammed the door shut. He didn't really want to find the boy. What would he do then? He didn't want to face charges.
No. All he wanted to do was wander about, and clear the one thought that was probably going to preoccupy his mind for a while...
He was defeated again. And this time, by a boy.
(Hello everybody!
Sorry for the late update! I probably won't be able to update for a while.
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who actually reads this - I'm surprised you're finding it worthwhile, if you are!
Also, I can't remember if I already named the wife, so she has a name now but it might not be the same as the one I've already named her if I have already named her, which makes zero per cent sense!
Again, thank you! Happy reading! ~Alison ^_^)
YOU ARE READING
Fighting Back
RandomWherever he goes, Noah is constantly taunted; not because of his looks or his background, but because of his unusual and hostile behaviour. What kind of person will he become when he tries to fight back? Will he find another way of setting himself f...
