Delilah
/dɪˈlʌɪlə/
Noun
1. A seductive and wily temptress.
1.1. Delicate.
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Delilah
It's way past my bedtime, but I just couldn't seem to put my book down. Waking up agitated tomorrow morning seemed to be worth it when it came to me discovering just what happened in the end of my book, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower".
I know the movie had already been out for a little while, but I would easily choose a book over watching TV any day. I picked up my phone and saw that it was nearing 11:00. My father wasn't expected to be home any time soon, so I wouldn't have any distractions.
Or so I thought.
On cue, I heard the jiggling of keys and then my father's murmuring as he entered the house. I stood up from my double bed and walked over to lock my bedroom door, not wanting him to stumble in my room trying to talk to me while drunk.
I sat comfortably in my bed again just as I heard two pairs of footsteps stumbling up the wooden stairs, sounding heavy like they were walking with anchors on their feet.
My father had company.
I sighed hard and got up once again to switch my light off so he wouldn't come knocking. But that didn't stop him. "De-Delilah are you awake?" He slurred stammering slightly as he knocked ever so silently on my bedroom door.
I didn't answer, knowing he probably just wanted to let me know he got home safely.
"I thought you said she'd be awake?" I heard another deep voice ask. I became alarmed because I just assumed it was another one of his escorts. A few more words were exchanged and then a couple more knocks on the door.
"Open up for daddy, Deli." He pried, but I didn't understand what was going on. "Open this door right now Delilah. I know you're awake!" He demanded and pounded on the door.
My heart raced heavily because I had no idea what to think. It was usual for my father to come home drunk but never usual for him to come home with a man, nor act like this towards me. He usually came in silently and spoke to me for a few minutes to let me know he's home safe and he loves me, then heads to bed.
What is this?
I hesitantly stood up and pressed my ear to the door. "D-daddy?" I asked quietly.
"Open up pumpkin." He demanded sweetly. "Daddy's not gonna hurt you I j- I just want to talk."
"Who's with you?" I asked him and he was silent for a couple more seconds.
"Just open the door Delilah." He repeated. After a couple seconds of debating with myself, I opened the door. My father stepped aside and a tall guy took his place, inviting himself into my room. I became alarmed and tried prying the door shut, to no avail because of the size advantage he had over me. I looked over at my father pleadingly as he peered over at me with sad eyes, as the man slowly shut the door.
Leaving both of us alone in my bedroom.
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Five Years Later
I knocked myself out of the daydream that had overtaken me as I sat in my Sociology class. My teacher had been talking about body language and how it suggests certain things about people, when suddenly an image of Drake popped into my head, and I was gone.
I smiled smugly as I thought of how thirsty I low key was for some Drake. I picked up my pen and started making notes on what my teacher had been talking about. Just then, the bell rang indicating the end of last period. I gathered my things and shoved them into my backpack and headed out of the classroom and into the parking lot.
