The Girl With The Missing Arm {on hold}

:11

BY THE TIME Finn drops me home it's well past twelve. I suppress a yawn as I hop out his car and bid him goodbye.

He mutters what sounds like a good bye back before he speeds off as soon as my feet touch the pavement. He must be exhausted too.

Then I slowly jingle my keys in the lock and quietly open the door and slip inside. Much to my chagrin though I'm instantly met with the bright fluorescent living room light being turned on. I look up slowly and stare into the face of my dad who's sitting on the couch with his hands folded across his chest and a pissed off expression plastered on his ebony face.

Great. Just my luck.

"Hello." He greets sardonically standing up and inching closer towards me. "Or should I say a welcome back home since you've been gone long enough to warrant one?"

"I was helping Finn with his grandmother. She has diphtheria remember?" I nervously study my shoes finding the patterns of my white converse suddenly interesting. I've never been a good liar.

"I thought it was diarrhea?" He questions sharply eyeing me like a hawk eyes its prey before swooping in on it for the kill.

"She has both." I splutter. "She also has arthritis and bronchitis. She's a very sick women."

"Oh really?" He questions sarcastically although I see him slowly relax and his frown recede slightly.

"Yeah she is." I lift my head to finally meet his eyes. "But unlike someone I know Finn doesn't abandon her just because she's sick."

If he gets my insinuation he doesn't respond to it, but instead sighs slightly and rubs the crease between his eyes. "Your mother and I were really worried about you, but I convinced her you were fine, and told her that she could go to bed while I wait up for you. You know since she has to wake up every day at five and work till five to provide for you."

If he's trying to make me feel guilty it doesn't work. "Well maybe if someone paid child support regularly she wouldn't have to." I retort squaring my shoulders.

His nostrils flare in anger and he stands up ominously, but I don't back down and stare him dead in the face in defiance.

"Go to bed now." He demands.

"My pleasure." I don't waste another second on him and bound up the stairs flopping on my bed blissfully. I don't even bother taking off my clothes or brushing my teeth before I fall into a deep slumber.

* * *

"How's your writing coming along?" I jump when Mrs. Johnson approaches our table lost in my thoughts.

"Fine." I cover up my ledger with my hand, but she quickly snatches it up, and before I can even react she's reading my unintelligible squiggles with a slight frown on her face.

"Is this an I or a K?" She asks quizzically as she scrunches her eyes together and brings the book closer to her face.

"Neither. It's an L." I mumble my face heating up with embarrassment.

Her mouth forms a confused O. "Yeah I could totally tell."

I sigh in frustration. "You don't have to lie to me."

She gives me a sympathetic look. "I know it's hard using your right hand all your life and then suddenly having to switch to your left, but if I know anyone that would be able to do it, it would be you."