"You're useless, don't you understand that?" Father yelled at me.
I adjusted my seat at the kitchen table and frowned on my work. It was just a low grade in Math, what was the big deal? I could earn it back. I wouldn't answer him, though. I twiddled my thumbs under the table, holding back the tears that threatened to fall down my face. Father slammed his fist down on the kitchen table, causing the top to shake and a small salt shaker to topple over, spilling grains of the salt all over.
"Answer me!"
"You want an answer?" I shot back at him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed back my seat, rising to my feet. "I am not useless! And if Mother were here she would throw you out on your ass because she realized what a dick you really are!" The tears finally came right at the moment my throat closed up again. Rage flickered within Father's eyes, and I stepped around him, clear of the kitchen, before making my way up the stairwell. Once on the second floor, I heard loud, fast paced footsteps.
I slipped into my room and slammed the door shut just as I heard him yell my name, locking it. There's no way he'll break that door down. It would be the least of his worries, I thought to myself, shoving my bookcase up against the door for added measure. Crumpling on my bed, I covered my ears in hopes of blocking out the pounding at my door, and shook.
"Nevada?"
I looked up from my clasped hands and over to Ethan. He smiled at me a little, and undid his seatbelt. How long was I zoned out? Why did Ethan look better than before, more awake? My eyes strayed from Ethan to what stood outside the truck. The large building looked like a warehouse, but it also looked abandoned. About to crumble at any moment.
Thinking that, I hadn't noticed Ethan who had hopped out of the truck and was making his way towards one of the closed doors at the side of the building. Curious--and quite terrified--I leapt out, slammed the truck door closed and ran after him. "Where...are you...going?" I panted, staring up at Ethan. He was fiddling with a large lock, holding something in his fist.
"Where does it look like?" he asked, sounding focused. There was a clink, and a scrape of metal, and the lock dropped to the dirt ground at our feet. I stared down at the lock in amazement.
"Okay, let me ask something else then," I told him, straightening and glaring at him. "Why are you doing this?"
"Need to grab something," he told me simply, and pulled out a knife from his back pocket, twirling it in his fingers. Panicked, I leapt back. Looking at me at confusion for a moment, Ethan stared down on the knife. Concern and fright gleamed in his eyes once he slooked back at me. "Only if someone comes. If they look like they'll do you harm, stab them."
"You can't be serious!" I shrank away, glaring at the knife instead of him.
"Nevada, I need to grab something in there and I sure as hell can't let you come with me. I'm not leaving you out here unarmed. If you see someone coming and you don't feel right, yell for me, stab them, and run," he told me in a stronger voice, opening my hand and placing the knife in my palm. Gently, he curled my fingers around it. "I wouldn't tell you to do this if I didn't believe you could." Leaning forward, he planted a kiss on my forehead, before pulling back.
Sighing, I stared down on the lock. "Go," I told him, not wanting to look at him in that moment. "Be back soon." Just like that all of the warmth I felt was gone. And I was left alone holding the knife.
