Monstrous

chapter 5

HUGE news in my author's note at the end :)

Chapter 5

“Now explain to me why you broke the last picture mom framed.”

I looked up at my father, and knew something was wrong, based on the expression on his face. I didn’t mind if he didn’t answer my question. It was hard, for the both of us. So I went up to him, and took away the phone that was in his hands. My instincts told me that because of this phone, our home now looked nothing like it did before.

“I’m sorry Belle, I really am.” I hear him say behind me as I go over to the toppled table on the floor and pick it up, only to have my father rush over to me and fix it back to its original place himself. I go over to the closet in the hall and pick up the broom to collect the pieces of glass on the floor. While I sweep, I can feel my father’s eyes on me. I look up and send him a small smile, hoping he understands that I’m not mad.

“Papa, I’m not mad. Why don’t we clean this entire place up, and then talk about what’s been going on lately?” I ask him.

He smiles back, and replies to me, “Okay, Belle. It seems that you’re more of a parent than I am.”

We both laugh at his joke and he offers to sweep up everything for me, so I can get started on vacuuming. Soon, everything is in place and our apartment doesn’t seem so bad anymore. Papa was making tea for the both of us, while I cleaned the small table that he fixed up. Lastly, I place my mother’s picture on it and then advance towards the loveseat to sit on it.

Cleaning didn’t take so long because all he really wrecked was the living room. I was just glad he didn’t make it to the kitchen or even hurt himself. He comes back a few seconds later with a tray and our tea, and sets it down onto the coffee table in front of us. He takes a seat on the couch and we sit in silence for a few minutes until I decide on speaking up.

“Do you want to tell me what has happened while I was gone?”

He looked up from his tea, then back down again. His gaze flickered between me and the hot substance in his hands, when finally he mustered enough courage to talk again.

“They, they called.” He said stuttering, which made me jump off the loveseat and put my tea down. He was shaking so I took the cup from his hands and placed it on the table next to mine. I took a seat next to him on the couch, but he still didn’t look up, instead he was just staring at his now empty hands.

“Who’s ‘they’, Papa?”

“The Men.” He replied shortly. No emotion in his voice as I got up in shock. ‘The Men’ was our little code for the gang. My mother and father both were members of this “gang” that roamed around our city. I don’t know much of the details because ever since my mother died, my father technically broke off from the gang, not wanting me to be associated with that atmosphere, but I do know that there are more like them. They just seem to be one of the best and that scared me.

“Wh-what do they want?”  I ask him shakily, pacing back and forth, but I stop to look at him for the answers.

“I, I stopped doing my jobs because I didn’t want to do this stuff anymore. You’re going to school and being offered so many opportunities and with me being a part of everything, it needs to stop. I no longer hold a high position anymore and I’m worried something will not only happen to me, but to you.” He finally looks up from his fidgeting fingers and stares at my shocked eyes.

“Oh Papa, I don’t think I’ll get hurt. Everything is going to be okay.” I look at him sincerely. I sit down next to him and pull him into a hug, which he returns.