First Impression 2

Chapter 39

-Hayley's POV-

"Hayley, for God's sake, take out those damn headphones of yours. Im trying to have a conversation with you!" My mother's angry voice pierced my ears through the loud bass pounding through the small white wires trailing to my ears.

I did as I was told and paused the musical therapy on my phone. Reluctantly, I let the speakers fall from my ears and wrapped them around the small black device.

"Lana, don't yell at her, please." My dad pleaded as he took the dirty dishes away from the table and ushered Logan into the other room.

"Don't tell me how to speak to my own daughter!" My mom's voice rose as her knuckles gripping the dark be bottle turned white as she continued to apply pressure.

My eyes exchanged between my two parents. My mother was angry and drunk as usual. Her dark brown hair was a messy set of curls that hung loose from the bun she had tamed them with all day. And then my father, dark bags droop under his eyes. He raised his hand and pressed his fingers against the wrinkled brow of his as if he was trying to rub away a forming headache. A sigh escaped his lips as his tired, vacant eyes closed.

This was the scene I had witnessed too many times the last few days. Nothing but hostility filled the air. My mom came home crankier than I had ever seen and she took it out on the first person she saw with a smile on their face. That person, was more often my father than it wasn't.

My dad looked at me across the small wooden table whose stain was starting to chip away as bottles and glasses had been thrown against it. "Take Logan upstairs please." His voice was small and soft, laced with defeat.

"I was in the middle of a conversation with her. She's staying." My mother commanded and I stayed still, unsure of who to listen to.

My father glared at my drunken mom with disbelief before returning his attention back to me. "Take Logan upstairs, now." Authority rang from his tone and I knew I could easily outrun my mother if all else failed. I immediately got to my feet and hurried out of the small dining room, dodging the kitchen island, and grabbing Logan's arm.

"Where we going?" Logan asked innocently. I blinked rapidly to fight back the tears that dared to spill over my eyelids.

"We're going to bed and listen to some music, okay?" I said quietly to the little eight year old boy that followed after me. His eyes grew bright at the mention of the word music. It sparked something inside him, like it often did for me.

"What kind of music?" He dad to ask with a smile and I couldn't help but smile back as I lead him up the stairs leading to the loft.

"Whatever you want."

...

My back rested against the hard drywall lining the loft as Logan lied asleep in my arms. I had shut off the annoying Disney music about an hour ago. The only thing that filled my ears was Logan's light shore and the angry fighting between my two parents beneath the floor. The scene didnt phase me anymore. It had become more of a habit than an inconvenience. I flinched at the noise of shattering glass for the fourth time in the last two hours.

Did she really have that much angry bubbling inside her?

Did she have that much energy?

And why did my dad out up with this? He could be better off. He deserves better. He could easily go out and find love with another woman. As a simple thirteen year old, even I knew that. He could have a better family. I would if I were him.