One Day is All You Need (Kellin Quinn fanfiction)

Chapter Two

As promised, here's chapter two, and it's better and more interesting than chapter one I think :) ENJOY, VOTE AND COMMENT AND SUCH! ily<3

“It’s alright, sweetie. Just call my next time you’re late so I don’t worry, okay?” Kevin smiled as his hand ran down the length of my arm to hold my wrist lightly in his big, meaty hand.

I stood silent and tried to hide just how scared I really was of him.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and then come watch some TV with me, yeah?” He said softly in my ear. I knew what would happen if I refused, so I just nodded and turned to my bedroom. “Thirty minutes,” he called after me.

I took a few deep breaths in hopes to calm my nerves as I gathered my baggiest, ugliest pajamas to take a fast shower. It didn’t help one bit.

I showered quickly but stayed under the warm water for a long time, trying to avoid having to go into the living room with him. When I couldn’t put it off anymore, I pulled on the sweats I wore as pajamas and slowly trudged into the living room. Kevin was sitting on the couch in nothing but his underwear, his beer gut hanging over the waist band in full, disgusting glory. His arm was thrown over the back of the couch, the volume low on the TV. He was waiting for me.

I quietly sat on the other end of the couch, stiff as a board. Kevin silently sipped his Budweiser, not saying a word to me. He seemed to hardly notice I was in the room with him.

Maybe I’d read the situation wrong before. Maybe he was done with me.

I dared to let myself relax just a smidge. But as soon as I did, Kevin spoke. “What are you doing over there, pumpkin? Why don’t you come snuggle with daddy like you did when you were a kid?”

I didn’t look in his direction as I moved closer to him. Soon we were an inch apart again. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into him. I had no choice but to rest my head on his shoulder.

We stayed like that for a while and I started to remember how it was when I was a kid…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I was six years old when it started. At first, I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was the first time daddy hurt me, I cried out and he held me close to him, apologizing. He said he never wanted to hurt his little girl and he only wanted to show me how much he loved me. I remember telling him that it was okay and how I wanted him to love me. I remember how he smiled at me and kissed my head as he laid down on top of me again.

When it was over, he wiped my tears, kissed me goodnight and left my room.

The next day, daddy picked me up early from school and took me out for some “father-daughter time” as he called it. We fed the ducks at a park, had lunch at my favorite place and got ice cream cones. I lost my first tooth that day.

Daddy didn’t come into my room for a long time after that. I remember asking him if he doesn’t love me anymore and asking why he doesn’t show it. God, I was so naïve. That night, he came in the middle of the night, told me he loved me and showed it to me.

By the time I was eight, he was coming into my room nearly every night. I was used to it. I didn’t scream or cry in pain anymore and daddy always took me for ice cream the next day.

When I was ten, that’s when I learned what was happening. I started to fight back and I remember screaming for mommy. But mommy never came. I remember asking why he doesn’t love mommy or Emily. He said he didn’t love mommy or Emily the same way he loves me. Some sick part of me, found pride in that daddy loved me most.