Against the Wall

Bitter Memories and New Friends

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New Chappie! I know I said i was going to update last night, but i fell asleep. Sowwy!

Excuse mistakes

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The door to his office was open, and I couldn't stop myself from looking inside. My dad looked angry, but calm, and the man sitting across from him just looked terrified. Frank, my dad's muscle, was leaning against the wall. He held something in his hand, and I figured it was probably a weapon from his large assortment.

"Where is my money, Paul?" My dad asked stiffly.

"I don't have it," the man, Paul, replied softly. My dad stood up abruptly, and Paul panicked. "My son's in college!" he cried. "I needed the money for his tuition!"

My dad came to stand directly in front of Paul, and he spoke deliberately. "Paul, you and I both know that you don't have a son. You live alone in your shitty apartment."

Paul paled, and I grimaced. My dad hated sob stories, but he hated liars even more. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. I could tell he was furious, and he was trying hard to keep himself calm and collected. "Paul, this is not the first time you've done this, and I-"

"Please!" interrupted Paul, "I'll have the money soon!"

"Shut up!" my dad roared, and I jumped at the intensity in his voice. Paul looked like he was going to wet himself, and steam could've been coming out of his ears. "I've tried to be patient with you, Paul, I really have," my dad said, and he started pacing to calm himself down. "However, I think I need to remind you that we aren't friends, and I will not tolerate this."

My dad nodded at Frank, and he flipped whatever was in his hand. The knife blade clicked into place, glinting in the harsh office light, and I winced. Frank sauntered over to Paul, and without giving any warning, he swept his knife twice against Paul's face.

Paul squeaked and his eyes widened in shock. Blood beaded at each slash, and it started to trickle down his face, leaving dark red lines. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from crying out. I wanted to leave, go back to my room and hide under the covers, but I couldn't tear myself away.

"I'll call the police!" Paul cried suddenly. His voice was trying to sound level and intimidating, but he just sounded like a scared man lashing out. "I'll call them and tell them everything!"

My dad raised an eyebrow. "Paul, we own the police," he stated, and then he nodded at Frank. A malevolent smirk made its way onto his lips, and Frank nodded back at my dad in understanding. He turned back to face Paul, and in one swift motion, he sunk the knife into Paul's gut, just like melted butter.

This time, I did scream. My dad's head snapped up and his eyes connected with mine a second before I pushed myself away from the door and was sprinting upstairs. I slammed my door shut behind me and dove into my bed. I tried closing my eyes, but it only replayed what I'd just witnessed.

*

My eyes snapped open and I looked around to find myself lying in my bed. I sighed and pushed myself up into a sitting position. I ran a hand through my hair and groaned.

I wish it had been a nightmare. I really, really do. However, it wasn't one; it was a memory. It had been the first time I'd seen something like that, but it wasn't the last time.

"Sawyer?" Grandma Aggie stuck her head into my room and said, "Oh, good! You're awake!"

"Yeah," I replied, swinging my legs over the side of my bed, "I just woke up."