A Deal With the Devil

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~TRIGGER WARNING~~~~~~~

"Kassandra!" My father's voice boomed throughout the house, calling me from downstairs.

I left my homework on the bed and hesitantly went, trying to avoid stepping on the parts that I knew would creak and held onto the banister as I walked down.

Once I reached the last step, I look to see my father splayed out on the couch in the living room, sitting with his back towards me.

It was dark as the curtains had been drawn. His face illuminated by the tv that blared the readings of some sports game.

The living room was bleak, painted in an off white color. Parts of it had started to peel and crack. The carpet around him was clean save for his work boots that rested against the side of the couch.

The coffee table in front of him littered with newspapers and various beer bottles.

I wasn't even near him, yet my nose burned with the scent of motor oil and alcohol.

"Yes sir?" I shakily asked.

"How was school?" His eyes never left what he thought so precious.

"Fine," I said in a clipped tone.

"Did.. did you learn anything new?"

"Yes."

"What did you learn, was it anything interesting?"

"I can't remember right now."

"Oh, ok."

Anxiety grew in my chest as his questions went on. To the outside world, he looked like any normal father that had just only gotten off of work. Resting after a strenuous day, questioning his daughter about school topics and the like.

But that couldn't be farther from the truth. It would always start like this. He would always start off like the doting father he used to be.

But then, a switch would flip and I would always be on the opposing side."Did you eat?" He asked.

"No." I said softly.

"Are you hungry? There's take out for you in the kitchen. I haven't had a chance to go grocery shopping this week." His eyes stayed on the tv screen, never straying.

"Ok." I said.

I walked slowly into the kitchen, never turning my back towards him, thankful that the kitchen didn't have an open view of the living room - a wall separating the two.

A glance behind me, a box of take out was left on the counter. I slowly make my way towards it  before going to the side of the table furthest from the kitchen entrance, taking a seat that faces it so that in any case, I'd never have my back to him.

I eat quickly, like a starved animal, chewing hurriedly as if in preparation of a dangerous attack.

When I'm finished, I throw the trash away, and grab a drink of water, gulping it down before putting the cup in the sink.

"Kassandra, are you done?" I hear from the other room.

My breath quickens and my heart constricts as I let out a hesitant, "Yes."

"Can you bring me a beer?"

"Ok," I let out shakily.

I headed for the fridge, opening the door to a clean yet empty space, one which only seemed to have his alcoholic stockpile.

I closed the fridge and slowly brought the bottled liquid to him.

I stepped into the living room like it was a minefield, hoping against hope that I didn't set anything off.