"So in Greek culture Hades is the god of the undead. But in Roman culture Hades is also the god of the riches."
I'm staying up to finish my part of a history project at the moment. We're learning about the differences between Greek and Roman cultures and right now we're on their religious practices.
But one thing I really don't understand is why the Romans had a minor god for basically everything. I wonder how much time-
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I heard the front door slam shut and heavy footsteps. My heart instantly stopped but then continued beating when I realized it must have be my dad who came home from working late. I then resumed flipping through my textbook.
I heard a knock on my door and the handle turn to reveal my dad.
"Ali?"
I could a thickness in his voice making me think he drank a little before coming home.
"Hey dad. How was work?"
"Fine-but-a-little-slow."
He seemed to string his words together rather than say them individually.
He closed and locked the door before stumbling to where I was sitting on the floor. But he sat unusually close to me so I moved over a little to put my textbooks between us.
Then it hit me. Suddenly all I could smell was the strong stench of alcohol confirming my suspicions. A million questions ran through my mind: Why are you drunk......Who did it to you......Were you pressured......Was anyone with you......Did you drive yourself home......How did this happen?
"But how are you?" He asks
"Why are you asking about me? Your drunk. How did this happen? How did you get home....."
"Oh quit worrying about me i'm just an old man waiting to die. But you. Well you have your whole life ahead of you and its already began. By the way has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? Because it's true. That boyfriend of yours sure is lucky."
"Stop talking non-sense. For God's sake your drunk. I think you should get some rest. You're going to have a rough morning. I'll head to bed too it's getting late."
I stand up to help him into bed because who knows what'll happen along the way. He could either fall on his face waking up everyone else or break something also waking up everyone. And the one thing I want to avoid is having to explain this all when my brain is barely functioning.
I extend my hand out not knowing my whole life will change the second his hand comes in contact with mine.
Worst Mistake Of My Life
His grip on my hand suddenly tightened as he whipped himself up from a sitting position. But he somehow managed to close the gap that was supposed to be between us. Pressing me against my own father.
"I think the bed is a perfect idea."
"A perfect idea for what?" My voice shaky with worriness
I'm trying to break away from his grasp but he has a tight hold on me. One of his hands is on my waist while the other is still held in his hand which is now pressed between my chest and his. While my other hand is trapped at my at my side from his grip on my waist. And he conveniently managed to step on my feet stopping me from kneeing his ding dongs.
This was a well thought out plan for a drunk man.
"Dad can you please let go of me. This is getting weird."
"Oh I don't think I can let that happen and believe me this is only the beginning."
"What do you mean?"
He let out a deep chuckle which didn't help the situation for me at all. It's not something i've ever heard escape his lips. It scared me. And the funny thing was that laugh made me feel so small. It gave his so much power that it shrunk me but enlarged him. And it scared me.
"It's cute when you're clueless. But I think it's time daddy teaches you a thing or two about adulthood." He whispers in my ear
And then it hit me again. This was no joke or laughing matter. He was being dead serious. And I didn't do anything about it until now. God knows how far he would take it.
"Dad lets just relax and think about this for a minute.
You're drunk.
I'm 16 and your daughter.
You're drunk.
You have a family.
You're drunk.
You have a job.
As a cop.
But you are drunk.
Now how much of that are you willing to lose by going through with this." I tried keeping my voice slow,steady and quiet in hopes of getting through to him
"But don't I have you?"
From that point on I knew I lost him. That there's no use in trying anymore. All hope is lost. For good.
Then to my surprise he managed to throw me onto me own bed with him towering over me. And yet he still has that firm grip on my hand.
I'm suddenly snapped back into reality and realize the situation i'm in. I'm being sexually harassed. By my own drunk dad!
I can't give up! Hope can't be lost. I have to keep trying. ALL hope isn't lost until I realize he's somehow managed to make me immobile again.
He sitting on my legs with one leg also trapping one of my arms. He still has his hold on my other hand. Then I realize my one advantage.
My voice.
"Dad what are you doing!?! I'm only 16 and you own a fucking daughter!" I yell as loud as I can trying to wake up the rest of my family
"Shhhhhh. You're in good hands now. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya." He says as his face gets closer to mine
"I've always had my eye on you Alisha. There's always been something different about you. I like different."
I start to panic. His face is so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my lips.
I immediately started to squirm around trying to avoid the horrible fate of kissing my father.
"Oh come on. Don't play like that now. You don't want to unleash my bad side do ya? Alright you asked for it."
He suddenly grabbed both my hands and handcuffed me to my bed. Then got a scarf laying around, put it in my mouth, tied the ends to the back of my head and continued to sit on my legs.
As he started touching and feeling me up I knew it was all going downhill from that point on.
----------------------
The song on the side is my favorite song of all time and explains the whole story in 4 minutes.
Leaving a vote if you liked this chapter and comment all your thoughts about the book. Especially ones that judge my writing because it really helps!
-xoxoxoxoxo
