Happy Endings Don't Exist...Do They?

Chapter 8: The Other Shoe

Trudging home a pit of dread nestled its self in my stomach and grew with each step I took toward home. By the time I made it to my front door I have to give myself a pep talk to open it. As I pass through the entryway, closing the door behind me, I see my father standing in the kitchen.

 Pausing, I take a deep breath fortifying myself before carrying on to the kitchen. I wearily enter waiting to see what my father is doing or what he is going to do. He is tapping his fingers on the counter in a staccato rhythm, his eyes tracking my movements. I stop at the other end of the counter, waiting to see what he is going to do. Father is still tapping his fingers while I just stand there waiting. 

This folks is what we call a Mexican Stand off. 

Soon father speaks, what he says chills my blood. "I got a call today about you," he starts "Someone from the school is concerned about your welfare." Uhoh. "They were wondering if I knew if anyone had be bothering you at school. Or anything happening at home. This cannot happen, girl." Attention is bad, for me and for him, but mostly for me because he takes out his frustrations on me but in new ways. Ways that don't leave marks due to the attention but he makes sure hurts worse than my other punishments usually do.

 "What have you been doing that has been drawing attention to you hmm?" Father continues. "ANSWER ME!!!" he yells punctuating his statement with a fist to the counter. I jump but manage to stutter out "N-n-notthhingg." "Nothing," father huffs "Nothing and yet I am getting calls about your well being." Wide eyed now, shaking in my converse, terrified about what he was going to do. 

Father starts to move around the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinets. He then went to the pantry and grabbed a box. My heart beat quickened, I knew that box, it was rice. This was not good. He poured the rice on the floor, telling me to kneel on it. I hate this punishment. It doesn't leave any mark but is painful especially when done for a long period of time like mine always are. I keeled here for hours, waiting to be told I was allowed to get up. My knees burning, pain traveling up my legs. 

Finally, four hours later Father came back into the kitchen and allowing me to get up because I had to make dinner. I quickly prepared a simple dinner of sandwiches and chips on shaky legs before I swept up the rice. As I start to go up stairs I am stopped "Just wait one second," Father calls out to me.

"Obviously you are not doing a good enough job of keeping a low profile and being quiet," he continues. He had a cup in his hand which he handed to me. "Drink" he orders. I pear into the cup. The cup is full with a yellow liquid with a sharp scent. "Drink it now,"he orders again. I put my lips on the cup and drink. Almost immediately I start choking on the foul liquid. I force myself to drink all that was in the cup, knowing if I didn't I would be punished and still forced to drink the entire cup. I finish the cup gagging. I go to ask what was in the cup, but found I can't. 

Father smirks, "I need to ensure you don't talk to anyone." Well he did that. I can't get a sound out and any sound I did manage to get out hurts. Trying hard not to cry I go to my room. Closing the door behind me I collapse on my bed silently crying. I don't know who called but I had a pretty good idea who was concerned.

Micah.

For what ever reason he actually gives a damn about me and my well being. Which sucks because he is actually making everything worse. I know I know I should just tell someone about everything but I tried and tried before and it never ends well for me. Father is good at lying and making other believe what he says. 

Laying on my bed as my throat burns and tears run down my face I make a vow to keep to myself. I am staying away from Micah Wade and his friends, for my health and sanity.

MICAH POV

I watch as she enters school looking like a scared kitten, one wrong move and she would scurry away to hide until the danger has passed. I don't like that she looks like that, my wolf doesn't either. I push my hair away from my eyes so that I can better see the girl that consumes my thoughts; I really do need to get it cut. I follow her through the halls far enough away to not frighten her but close enough to frighten those who wish to cause her harm. I am not sure why the students like to torment her when she hasn't done them any wrong but I am doing my best to stop it when possible. 

Having Mady and Liv walk with her to class has stopped most if not all the confrontations however lunch time is still a problem. Not sure why Aryn does not eat but instead spends her lunch period in the library doing work. I don't believe her excuse for a minute but I don't like that she skips eating. I walk into our first period wishing we could arrive together but knowing I have work to do in order for that to happen. No matter I am a patient hunter and she is the best thing to wait for...my mate.