"Is that you?" The voice sent chills down my spine. I was afraid to look up. Afraid to look at my father, of whom I had imagined for so long.
And when I looked up, the world stopped. For a spilt second. There was regret and misery pooled in his blue eyes, the same eyes as mine.
"No- I'm your daughter." I managed to stand up. He was standing on an uncomfortable bed. His suit looked dirty and his grey hair was a mess.
I heard him suck in a breath when those words flew out of my mouth.
"M-my daughter?" He stood up. He was tall. Which explains why why I was taller than an average girl. I could see he and I shared the same mouth, eyes and nose. It was strange, finally seeing my father.
"Meredith- she- I know- it can't.." tears filled his eyes as he reached me. He stood in front of me and touched my cheek.
I wanted to hate him so much. I've heard of all the cruel things he had down. The countless innocent lives he had taken. He made my mother flee and fear for her own life.
But there he was.. standing in front of me. For seventeen years I had no image of him. All I was left with was a blank image of my father and the horrid stories my mom would tell me of him. But his touch was so soft against my cheek and.. I just wanted him to be my father.. I just wanted to forget all the bad stuff about him.
"Meredith kept me from you," his hand left my cheek. The absence of his hand made me feel sad..
"I loved your mother so much," he fell down to his knees. "I regret- I just." Then he started to cry. It was silent. All I could hear was him taking staggery breaths.
My head was spinning. I didn't know what to do. I stood there as my father cried on his knees, I didn't want to help him. My mother's cries echoed in my head as he wailed on.
I can't help him.
~
(Liam's POV)
I could hear my father crying. I took a gulp from the whiskey bottle I was holding and leaned my head against the door.
I was supposed to feel emotion. Any normal, sane person would feel some kind of remorse for locking their father. But I felt nothing.
I felt nothing and I fucking hated it. I just felt alone.. ever since I was a child, the memories after Meredith left were too much. Too much.. the abuse.. the tears. No child should have had to go through that.
I closed my eyes and painful memories I kept locked away rushed in and I choked on my own cries, drowned from my father's cries.
"Daddy please.." I stood in front of the bloodied man. He had blood rushing from his nose, mouth and even his eyes.
He couldn't fully open his eyes, they were bruised purple. I felt sick to my stomach.
"Shoot boy." His voice snapped behind me.
I held the small handgun I was gifted to on my birthday. It was shaking as I took aim.
Aim and shoot.
It was easy said than done.
"Shoot!" Father yelled behind me. "How do you expect to be leader of The Circle when you can't even shoot a traitor!" His voice bounced from wall to wall. It ringed in my ears as I pulled the safety off from the gun.
My finger hovered on the trigger as whimpers left my lips. I didn't want to shoot him. I didn't want to take his life away..
He may have betrayed my father but he doesn't deserve to die..
I felt my father move behind me. His hand went over my hand holding the gun, his large index finger forced my smaller one and pushed it on the trigger.
The gun sounded, followed by my scream and the thud of the now lifeless body.
"There. Done." And he walked away.
