Claire

Visitor

I sat down on my couch, Soul plopped down beside me. "I'm sorry if I just made things bad between you and Maka." I mumbled, looking at my lap. Soul was special to me, and I didn't want to lose him. Soul took my hand. "You didn't make anything bad. I don't know what's up with Maka, but she really just needs to chill." I chuckled and smiled, looking up at him. "Thanks, Soul." He grinned. "No problem, Claire."

My phone rang upstairs. "I'll be right back." I jumped off the couch and sprinted up the stairs, catching my phone right before whoever called was sent to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Claire. How nice to hear from you again."

I shivered. "Hey. Is everything okay?" I kept my voice calm, making sure to not give away my fear.

"Oh, yes. Everything's just fine. It's just that... Well, I miss my daughter."

I almost choked. "Well, you know, you could always visit. I mean, not now -- I've got school and stuff -- but maybe some other time?"

He chuckled. "Oh, well that's too bad. I'm already here."

My eyes widened. "Uh-- Okay then! Wow, um, yeah! I'll be there in just a second!"

The line broke. I ran down the stairs and grabbed Soul's arm. "You have to go!" He eyed me curiously. "What? What's the matter!" I shook my head. "I don't have time to explain! Please, just go! I'll explain everything later! I promise!" He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Alright. Call if you need me, got it?" I nodded. "You have to go out the back." I showed him the way. Just as he left, he knocked on the door.

I hurried to the door, a smile plastered on my face. My father smiled mockingly. "Hello, Clairissa." I nodded. "Hello, father. Come inside?" I made it sound like a question, instead of a statement. He would definitely have gotten angry. He stepped inside and scoffed at the scene. "They let you pick the color scheme didn't they?" I sighed mentally and closed the door. "Yes, they did."

He looked around, tracing his finger down the walls, across the counters, examining everything. There wasn't anything he didn't study before sitting down on the couch. "Tell me, Clairissa, how has your time been here?" I sat across from him, in a black chair. I sat straight, hiding my fear expertly. "It's been well, father. I've learned many techniques and skills, and my professors are very eager to help me learn more." Father nodded slowly, looking around the living room at the letters and photos. "Ah! Your sister." I closed my eyes, deflating emotionally. "She is nothing like you, my darling Clairissa. Not as obedient, strong, willing, determined," As he spoke, he walked around my chair, trying to intimidate me. "She's young. I'm planning on sending her here, actually. She'd make a wonderful weapon if she only worked at it." I nodded. "Of course, father. Perhaps, if she were to come soon, perhaps next weekend, I could help teach her to be a better weapon, be more obedient."

After considering the matter closely, father nodded. "Nicely thought out. Exactly how I would've handled the situation. I will send her here next weekend. Be sure to keep your promise." His last sentence sounded a bit like a threat, but I did not flinch.

He left my side and travelled to the shelf behind the couch, looking at my pictures and small knick-knacks I had perched upon the dark wood. He stopped at the picture of my mother, framed in silver, and chuckled darkly. Without a word, he pushed the picture onto the floor, where the glass shattered. He turned to me and shrugged, "Oops," with a mocking smile. His phone rang and he picked it up, walking on the broken picture and to the front door. "I'll be taking my leave, then, Clairissa. Remember, your sister will be joining you next weekend. Do not fail me; you will regret it." I sat tense in my chair. "Of course, father." He left, slamming the door shut behind him.