I'm upstairs in my room as the doorbell goes, I know who it is. Racing down the stairs with excitement I reach for the door. There's just a man standing there.
He was standing in a smart black suit, briefcase in hand, I recognise this man. But where from? After about a minute of staring into each other's eyes it clicks. Dad. My father left when I was three for some reason. This is all I really know, my mother always shuts down when I ask her about the man who walked out on us. Only ever saying he was no good and changes the subject seeming a little distant.
Once I was routing around in my mom's wardrobe when I was little when we were playing hide and seek and I found a small blue shoebox. Inside it held photographs of this man, tokens and letters with special memories of all of us. I may not know much from my mom, but more from the box. I have an idea of what he looks like as I used to frequently sneak up for a look, but I've not been in a while now.
"Excuse me but who are you?" I said looking into his deep blue eyes, looking similar to mine.
"So I take it your my daughter?"
It is him!
"Honey, who's that at the door?" I hear my mom shout, I can't tell her because she'll just shoo him out, so I don't.
"Oh, it's just the girls mom."
"Oh, ok. But don't come in the kitchen yet though. It's a tip!!!"
"Ok, I wo-, oh sorry, we won't!!!"
"Why did you lie?" My father asks me quietly, noticing the tension in the air.
"No reason." I said, even though I had a few reasons!
"We'll just go to my room." I yelled into the kitchen.
"Ok, have fun girls!"
I then grabbed his arm and dragged it up the stairs.
"Calm down!" He said, I just chose to ignore that comment. I have no reason to be calm right now, how dare he!
YOU ARE READING
The Scholarship
Novela JuvenilShe's the usual teenage girl, hormones, easily excitable and so much fun. But when her dad creeps back from lurking in the shadows since she was aged three, he brings up bad memories- and tangled along a catch. Bailey must choose between two things...
