Being with the Anderson boys

Chapter 5

After I hear the front door shut I bolt out of my bed and changed into a pair of loose shorts and a big t-shirt. I then threw my locks into a messy bun and flew through my bedroom door and down the stairs.

Stopping at the last step of the stairs I was greeted by an angry man. My father turned on his heels to face me. I could have sworn that his hair was getting greyer as his eyes burned into mine. He shaved off most of the scruff from his face but left some to grow as a moustache. He dropped his tackle box and fishing rod and stomped over to me.

It was then that I took in the environment that he came home to.

Bottles and cans lay on the floor everywhere. Looking into the kitchen area from where I stood I saw the fridge door wide open. Cabinets looked like they were gone through and left open too.

Gazing into the den area, everyone had cleared out already apparently. But the cushions and pillows were scattered on the floor and music was still playing low.

As my dad approached me I could see the growing anger in his dark brown eyes.

Although I was still standing on the step my dad was still taller than me but not by much. He peered down at me, "what the fuck happened here?"

I should have known this would happen. Shamefullying looking to the ground my fathers booming voice startled me.

"Do you care to explain ? Or is there another way to--" I interrupted him before he could finish that sentence. "Please believe me. I'm so, so sorry." I pleaded a genuine plea but he wasn't buying it. I could see it in his face.

"Do you really think sorry is gonna cut this time Kira ?" In slow motion I saw my father come towards me fast. His hands raising just as fast as more anger built in his eyes and tense body. Once he was right in front of me he's over sized hands grabbed my shoulders and he shook my body like I was a rag doll. This caused me to loose balance and fall on top of the steps behind me.

"What's wrong with you get up!"

Still shaken up I stood but held tight into the railing for support. "This place isn't gonna clean it up it's self," my dads voice boomed through my ears.

I then walked over to the closet with all our cleaning supplies and took out a big garbage bag and some rubber gloves.

Wiping some dribble from my nose I hadn't even realized tear that came streaming down my cheek.

Get a hold on your self Kira. Your stronger than this.

*

After retuning to the closet once more for another garbage bag I was finally done cleaning. It only took me like until dinner time to finish but I wasn't hungry. All I wanted to do was go into my room and block out the world with some music.

Crawling under the covers there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

Rolling my eyes I buried my face into my pillows and moaned "come in."

"Hey sweetie. What do you say we go out to DQ?" He leaned his not so muscular but buff figure on my door frame. He knows I could eat ice cream anytime, anywhere. When I was little and when my mother was still around, it used to be our thing. But not now. Right now I needed to be alone.

Faking a yawn I said, "um I'm real tired. What if we go another night." And I snuggled further into my blankets trying to get comfy.

He walked across my room and sat on the edge of my bed. "Oh com'on. It's your birthday. You can't spend the rest of the day in your bed."

Actually I really wish I could.

This is how it usually went. He would get mad at me, or blow off some steam and then he would act like nothing happened. He would just act like everything is sunshine and rainbows and that we are fine.