Chapter 29 (Edited)

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A banging sounded at the door. Damaria sighed before getting off the dinner table chair. She ran over to the door and looked through the window to see who was there. At eight years old she was about the height of her father's waist. She looked up and then turned to unlock the door.

She stepped back and waited for her father to open the door. In the moment Lance came running down the stairs. He was either exited or afraid, Damaria couldn't tell. She was afraid to look at his face and let him see her expression.

     Their father walked in and smiled. But to eight year old Damaria the smile was strange, as strange as the smell coming from her father. She couldn't seem to understand why he walked sideways or why he was carrying bottles of strange liquid.

     Damaria stepped further back when Lance stood in front of her. He seemed to realize something was wrong but Damaria was still confused. Slowly she poked her head out from behind her thirteen year old brother. He had his fists clench to his side and was shaking.

     "Why are you here?" Lance gritted.

     "Because...I live...my house...what a pretty...little thing..." Kurt slurred his words as he turned to look at his son and the little girl behind him. She was clutching Lance around his arm.

     "You're not supposed to be here." Lance continued to block Damaria.

     "Lance why isn't daddy supposed to here?" Damaria whispered but Kurt still heard.

     Kurt staggered to the living room and flopped onto the couch. Lance stalked behind him in anger. His father was only to drink outside the house, he wasn't allowed to bring his disgusting smell and drink and he definitely wasn't allowed to be like this in front of Damaria. That was what had been agreed upon. When he was sober.

     "You can't...be my daughter... I only have...a son." Kurt slurred.

     "But daddy, this morning you promised-" Damaria started but Kurt grabbed the nearest object; the television remote and threw it at her.

     It missed by a few inches just as Lance grabbed it.

     Damaria's heart thudded ten times faster and Lance was still in shock. Their father's laughter boomed through the empty, dying house. He sat up and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket before lighting it and placing it in his mouth. He smiled as he watched Lance recover and Damaria hide behind him.

     "You are not my daughter. I never wanted you. In fact nobody wanted you. Not even your own parents. You see Damaria, your mother had you and then she got very busy with work and one day she was so depressed and fed up with life and you, that she drove off a bridge on a motorcycle. Your father had to bare the pain of seeing someone like you; the cause of your mother's death, everyday, that he sent you to the foster homes. But still no one wanted you. You stayed their for months before your were sent back home because your father had no real excuse for giving you up." Kurt smiled in an evil manner. "So he did the one things he knew would get rid of you, he tried to kill you but you were a very loud kid and people heard and your father chickened out, so instead you were sent to live with his cousin. Willa. A few months later your father came back to kill you but you see Willa was ready and she finally had enough, so while she left you to sleep she called the police but they were too late. Your father was about to shoot you in the heart when Willa killed him. She killed her own cousin for you. You selfish brat!" He suddenly yelled. "And now I'm left with all the problems and Willa and your parents are somewhere nice while I have to take care of you useless pieces of crap!"

     Lance stared at his father. "I don't believe you. Mother said that Damaria was my real sister."

     "She lied boy! Damaria is your filthy excuse of a cousin."

     "No. You're a liar!" Lance suddenly yelled. "You promised not to drink in the house, you promised to smoke outside if you needed too! You promised to keep us safe! And you promised that you would always be there for us!"

      "I lied. I lied about everything. About taking care of you, about smoking and definitely about drinking! I'll drink all I want and you can't stop me!" His father stood up and threw the bottle of alcohol towards Lance. Lance ducked and the bottles smashed into Damaria stomach; pushing her down and leaving pieces of glass everywhere including in her skin.

     She screamed and Kurt glared at her. Too afraid she stood up as fast as she could and ran out of the room while Lance watched in shock. She ran upstairs to her room and ran straight into the bathroom. She tore off her shirt and watched as thin lines of blood trickled down her stomach and onto her pants. She was aware of the glass shards stuck in her stomach but the sight of blood made her sick. She sank to the floor in front of the toilet an threw up everything that was there and somethings that weren't. All she could think about was how hurt she was and how Lance had not protected her.

---

     Kurt laughed; more of a cackle and opened another bottle to drink. He threw the still lit cigarette at Lance, who was still in shock and could not process what the burning sensation on his arm was until he looked down to see the butt of the lit cigarette resting on his arm.

     He hissed in pain and jerked away. "You're becoming a monster."

     "No son. I am a monster."

---

     The morning was more calming. Damaria walked down the stairs, carefully holding onto the railing and listening for any sound of anger.

      The kitchen was quiet and the only person there, was her father. He was muttering colourful words as he moved through; checking cabinets for the usual goods they lacked.

Damaria was quiet and didn't point out that this was the third time this week he had forgotten to go grocery shopping. She was very well aware that he was still angry about last night and nothing could change that. Slowly she stepped back but not quietly, the floorboard creaked and she tensed up when her father froze.

He had heard her.

A tense silence settled in the air. Damaria didn't know what to do. With all the times to miss her mother, this was the most important.

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