Being with the Anderson boys

Chapter 8

"Hey..yea I'm just on my way down. Okay?" I clicked the phone off and stepped in front of my full length mirror.

I felt casual. In my high wasted light blue jean cut offs and black crop top. I slipped into my black and white converse and ruffled my naturally wavy hair.

I smiled at the refection in the mirror satisfied with what I saw and hurried out of my room down the stairs and to the front door. Once I grasped the door nob and opened it, I called out to my dad, "going out be home later." Just as I was about to take a step out onto the front porch my father stopped me by calling my name. I signed looking at the nice long car, "What?! I have to go. My friend is waiting."

He appeared from around the corner of the the kitchen and stalked towards me. He really caught me off guard when he grabbed onto my wrist preventing me from running out to the car awaiting my arrival.

"Don't you ever talk to me with that kind of attitude. It will not be tolerated." He yanked me back into the door way and slammed the door with his huge paw. I looked up into my fathers eyes, there was always something dark in them. Like an empty black hole, right after the bitch left. And right now his brown eyes were very dark. His grip on my wrist grew even tighter and it was beginning to really hurt. "Ow dad stop." And I tried to push his hand off but that seemed to make him even more angry. He dug his nails into my skin and I cried out in pain.

"Please I'm sorry." He threw my hand down to my side. It hung there limp and red like the blood that would soon try and spew out.

His over sized paw latched onto my small jaw. "Your not going anywhere. Get you ass up to your room. Your not gonna see no one. Tell who ever the hell is out there to get the hell out of here. Got it!" And I nodded my head slowly. He let go of my jaw roughly and I ran up to my room and slammed my bedroom door loudly.

The lump in my throat was too over powering. My vision was becoming blurry. It was a matter of seconds before the water works would start to pour from my eyes. But I sucked it up, washed my hands, reapplied a smidge of mascara and concealer and called him back.

I told Logan to pull out angrily from the drive way speed down the street, round the block and turn off his light. After I hung up I opened my bedroom door. Thankfully it didn't creek but I was listening for what he was doing down there. The baseball game was turned on. I was tempted to know the score but i knew I couldn't go down there. Not after that.

I shut the door and made my way over to the other side of my room where the window is that leads to the big oak tree. I step out into the summer breeze and it felt pleasing against my skin. After just a second of soaking it in I hop off onto the worn down branch. Holding my breath for maybe the millionth time jumping off here I slip off slowly and land on my own two feet. I crouched down quickly so that I am unseen. It's antagonizing to know if the Yankees are winning or not. I quickly peek up and see that they are winning by a landslide. I suddenly let go of the breath I hadn't realized I was still holding onto.

I look up one last time though our too large window allowing me to see into the living room where my father sat comfortably on the sofa. Checking the screen it was the 7th inning and in just a second it would break for the stretch.

Just as I said, it did and just as my father always did during the 7th stretch, he raised from his seat and headed in the direction of the kitchen to grab a beer. As soon as he was out of the clearing I ran. I ran until I was at the edge of the Thompson's lawn. That's how I knew he couldn't see me for sure. I kept running even when I passed the stop sign at the small intersection of my street, turned to the right where Logan's red Toyota FJ came into the clearing. Practically skidding to a stop I grabbed a hold of the passenger side handle took in a deep breath and hopped inside.