Spectre

The beggining

A quiet town. No sound, no noise, except the silent whisper of Sally and her mother, Fiona discussing over the little they called breakfast. "Is your father up yet?"

"Not since I checked, no. I'm headed out mum. Don't miss me too much!" She said, walking out the front door. She heard the distant call of her mum's voice calling out behind her, "Bye sweety!" Not too long after, she heard footsteps: loud, hard footsteps. Tom. "You're eating."

"Shouldn't I be, it is breakfast?"

"You're eating and you didn't call me..."

"Toasts in the microwave."

"Excuse me?"

"You want to eat, so you can go get your food."

"Fiona, I eat first in this house!"

"Look, Sally said you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you."

"For God sakes Fiona, moisten to yourself! You listened to that dim child and now I'm here starving!"

"Don't you ever talk about my daughter like that you prick!" Cold. Then extreme heat. She felt his hand as his knuckles collided with her face, sending waves of pain through her. Her eyes began to leak, slowly dripping those salty drips of concentrated water down her face. She placed her hand on her face, soothing the pain. She looked up at him, trying to understand what she had gotten married to. He stood there and stared at her, watching her with that cold evil glare in his eyes. Eminent evil. "Mom!" He turned around and stared as Sally ran up to her mother. "That's it were leaving!"

"Sally-"

"Don't you dare, Sally me! I hate you!" She helped her mum get up. They'd be leaving...for good. She tried to walk put, her arm draped across her mothers shoulder, hoisting her up, when she felt a hand push against her ribs, throwing her on the floor, her mother dropping on top of her. She looked up right into her fathers eyes, meeting his gaze. He walked out, not speaking a word of any of it.

---

Sunset came, Tom arrived late, drunk; intoxicated; high off the top. There was never a time that he came home normal. His arm was slung around another woman's shoulder. You would've thought he'd at least have taste but it was evident that she was married from the ring on her finger. On the table sat what seemed to be a note. He shakily walked over to the table, picking up the paper. "Crap!" A divorce slip. "Angela, pass me a pen." He signed it, angrily. "Fiona! I got your letter! When were you going to tell me about your lawyers meeting? Heck, where did you even get the money?" No reply. He ran upstairs to Sally's room, and then to Fiona's, each time, busting the door down. He rushed down into the kitchen and found a note on the table.

Were gone dad. Don't come looking for us. I've taken mum to a place where she can be taken care of. We have a restraining order against you, and even if mom doesn't want to, I'll call the cops if you show up. I'm glad I'll never see you again.

-Sally

They were gone...forever. He had just realised it, but he needed them back. He needed a way to get back at them because he hated that he couldn't cause them pain. He walked back into the parlour, throwing the door open and slamming the note on the table. "Get out."

"Tommy, you wanna talk?"

"Get out of my house Angela! Go back to your family...I need to get mine back." Angela walked out of the room, leaving Thomas to wallow in his anger. "I swear Fiona," he said picking up the note, "I'll get you back."