In This Life

Chapter 22

Hey guys, hope everyone is doing good. I know I keep delaying updates even though I continue to promise to update soon, but a lot is going on right now, so please be understanding!

Hope everyone is enjoying the story, I haven't gotten my usual feedback lately..

Enjoy!

**************************************************************************

 ~Anderson - 8 years old~

I watched as my dad set up a line of targets across the room. We were in his lab facilities again today, working underground. For the past couple of months, my father has been set on teaching me self defense and how to protect myself. I expected this much from a father towards his only daughter, but I never expected him to go as far as he has been.

"Alright kiddo, give it a go." My father said, suddenly appearing by my side.

I turned and looked up at him with an annoyed look. "Dad, this is boring. And I'm no good at it.." I whined.

My father shook his head. "Now c'mon, Finchy, you have barely even tried." My father tried to perk me up, but failed.

"I've tried for months and I'm still a rotten aim." I huffed as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Pausing for a moment, my father slowly bent down so we were at equal height, then he placed his hands on my shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak but I quickly cut him off.

"Why Daddy?" I questioned pitifully. "Why do I gotta do all this stuff?" I looked deep into his eyes with large, saddened ones of my own.

"Honey." He began, then cleared his throat. "It's - it's important, okay? Can you just trust me?" He continued determined to make me understand. "All this stuff I am trying to teach you is very important sweety. Trust me, Andy. I want you to live a long and happy life. I never want anything to happen to you." My father spoke as he looked deep into my eyes. But his gaze seemed so far away, almost as if he were years and years into the future..

I slowly nodded my head, knowing there was no arguing with my father's orders. Smiling down at me, he began to rise to his feet until he once again towered over my small frame. He turned on his heels and marched across the concrete floors until he reached a table. Upon reaching the table, he looked over his shoulder, flashing me a challenging grin, before scooping up something and rushing back to my side. 

"Here." He said, thrusting a small, black bag into my dainty arms. 

I looked up at him questioningly before adjusting the bag in one arm as I opened it with my free hand. I peered inside, only to see an array of small knives. They were cut small and handy, which seemed very convenient for a small girl like myself. The handles were a deep, smoky color with a tiny, red pattern circling around the handle. The blade was cut sharp and pointy, but jagged on one side. I studied them, but quickly plucked one out after my father nudged me.

"Go on, try." My dad insisted repeatedly.

I slowly placed the bag on the ground as I gripped the knife tightly in my hand. I stepped up onto the small platform that sat 20ft away from the target across the narrow training area. I turned around to face my father, but he quickly nodded with a goofy grin on his face, urging me to continue. I faced the target once again before slowly picking up the knife and holding it beside my head. I took in a shallow, nervous breath before pulling my arm back and launching the knife forwards. My face fell as the knife barely reached the target and crumbled to the floor.