Punk England X Reader Song-fic prologue-ish thing ~ The Repeated Nights
(-Readers POV-)
(F/n) sat on the couch watching television when she heard the front door open. Keeping her eyes focused on the screen in front of her, as she said “Hey dad how was work?” she asked but didn’t really care.
“Fine (F/n) how was school?” he asked. He then kissed the top of her head as he made his way into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room the only thing separating the two was a carpet and tile flooring. (F/n) flinched slightly but he ignored it.
Knowing that he was tuned out to whatever she had to say; “Fine, I skipped my first two classes, got kicked out of my second class for stripping then starting a dance sandwich, got in two fights during third period, got drunk at lunch then took some drugs and fell asleep in the janitors closet” (F/n) spoke even toned, loud enough for her father to hear and with a straight face.
“Sounds like fun!” he replied faking enthusiasm to the best of his ability. “Listen (F/n)… I need to ask you to do a favor for me, Okay?” he said casually.
“What?” she asked curiously.
He sighed as he came into the room and sat across from her on another couch. “I’m going to need you to not tell your Step Mom about what you saw last night…..”
(F/n) recalled coming home from her punk best friend Arthur’s house last night when she walked in the door she found her father having sexual relations with another woman. Turning off the TV she then turned to face the man she grew up calling her dad. “Don’t worry about me saying anything-
“Great!!” he cut her off voice filled with relief.
(F/n) continued, “Because she already knows…. daddy I’m-“
His eyes opened wide in a mix of shock and anger. “WHAT!” he roared. “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT!” he was pissed, (F/n) could tell. Just then the short woman with dark hair she recognized as her step mom Stacy ran down the stairs with tears in her eyes, carrying a bag. (F/n) had seen something similar to that before…
“It’s not my-“
SLAP
“Fault…” she spoke at barely a whisper, quivering. (F/n) stared in horror at nothing. Her father hit her! He’s never gone that far with her before! Once the shock wore off; the pain on the left side of her face set in; he hand went to cradle her burning cheek.
“BULLSHIT! THIS IS YOUR ENTIRE FAULT! WHEN WE GET DIVORCED AND SHE LEAVES, IT’S YOUR GODDAMN FAULT AND YOU KNOW IT!” He screamed down at her. “How could you do this to us? How could you do this to me? WHY! IM YOUR FATHER”
Tears started to roll down her cheek. (F/n) always hated it when her dad yelled; it never mattered if it was at her, her sister or her step mom; that scared her more than anything. She got up and started to run up the stairs and into her bedroom.
“YOU’RE SO FUCKING USELESS I CAN’T COUNT ON YOU FOR ANYTING! HOW ARE YOU, MY DAUGHTER?”
(F/n) shut the door to her bedroom. The word echoing in her mind, replaying over and over and again like a record stuck on skip.
“You’re USELESS!”
“This is YOUR FAULT!”
“How are YOU, MY daughter?”
