making peace

no a happy reunion

"Hello, how can I help you?" a tall Australian brunette asks me politely, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I'm looking for Mr. Gold" I reply quickly, wanting to see my father as soon as possible.

"He's just out back. I'll go get him." She leaves before I can say thank you, and I'm glad, because I hate talking to people who aren't my mother or father.

Within minutes, my father walks through the curtain that separated the front of the shop with the back. He looked older, but more human, without his scaly skin. His grey hair was cut short, unlike the last time I had seen him. His golden eyes that were exact copies of mine shone as he looked straight at me.

My mind went blank. I had no idea what to say to him. This was not how I pictured our reunion. He had a guilty look on his face, so I know he remembered what he did to me. All of a sudden, rage flowed through my blood, and not being able to control it, I slapped him across the face. His hand flew to his face to touch his now stinging cheek.

"Now you know how much you've hurt me!" I shout at my father, but he looks at me with such fury and uncaringness that my rage is replaced with worry. We try to out-stare each other, but it doesn’t work as we are both stubborn. After a full minute, his face changes from anger to love, and without warning, he embraces me in a tight hug. I try to escape, but his grip is too tight.