Seventeen
September 1999
There was a knock on the stained motel door, and I looked up from the Seecamp LWS.32 automatic as Dexter jumped up.
'It's probably dad!' He cried happily. 'He's here for your thirteenth birthday!'
'Stop!' I snapped as his hand hovered over the doorknob. 'It's not dad. That's too much of a coincidence.'
'Bellatrix?' It was dad's voice, deep and angry-sounding even though if it was him I knew he wouldn't be mad.
That's what made him so scary and strong- the fact that his voice just constantly dared people into a fight they would lose.
I stood and slowly walked towards the door, as if in a dream.
There was no way dad would be here just for my birthday- what about all the others? What about Dexter's? I'd rather he be here for Dexter's birthday than mine- it'd mean more to him.
Pushing Dexter out of the way, I opened the door slowly, and saw that it was dad.
'You came back?' I whispered, but there was something unnerving about the strange look he was giving me.
'What?' I asked.
'Dad, what's wrong?' Dexter asked.
Dad suddenly raised a gun and pointed it to my forehead- I closed my eyes and winced in advance, expecting the mind-numbing pain- but he only laughed.
After a second, Dexter joined in, and I opened my eyes as he holstered it again.
'What was one of the rules I taught you?' Dad scolded.
'Don't open the door to anyone, no matter who they sound like, until they pass the test.' I muttered angrily to myself. The one time dad comes back early, and I screw it up.
'Don't tell me after a week you've forgotten?'
'No, I-'
He cut me off by squashing Dexter and I in a massive hug.
'I've missed you both.' He said, and I smiled to myself.
Maybe coincidences did happen, even to us.
We sat on the crappy brown couch ( I spilt a Pepsi Max on it once, and it turned out a better colour than the original) and dad brought out a brown paper bag.
'What is it?' Dexter asked, bouncing excitedly.
'Happy birthday, Trix.' Dad smiled warily, and pulled two badly wrapped presents out of the bag. I didn't care really- just having him back for a little while, instead of having to be so responsible and be in charge all the time- it was better than anything he could buy.
Well, almost anything.
'Ohmigod!' I gasped, unwrapping the first present. 'A nine millimetre sig saucer! Cool! Is it already loaded?'
He nodded, smiling. 'And if you want, when we go back to the RoadHouse we can fill it with our own home-made silver slugs.'
'So we're going back to the RoadHouse?' Dexter asked excitedly.
'Awesome!' I cried, turning the gun over. I looked up at them as dad gave the second present to Dexter, who quickly fell on it.
'Sorry I missed your birthday, kiddo.' Dad apologised to him. 'And Trix, I'm sorry I've been gone for so long.'
That didn't sound like dad. Sure, I knew he felt bad for leaving us for a week tops, but he never apologised for it- he masked it as training for when we were older.
'Wow, it's a...what is it?' Dexter asked. I stood as Dad started explaining to Dexter about the sickle.
Walking back around to my bed, I passed the open bathroom and looked at the mirror. It had caught the light wrong, shining Dexter and dad on the couch in a weird light. What was weirder- dad's eyes flashed silver, if only for a second.
'Like a ShapeShifter.' I breathed.
'What did you say, Trixie?' Dexter called absent-mindedly.
'Uh...nothing.'
I knew there was no such thing as a coincidence.
