How I Met my Kidnap-I Mean Your Father

::34:: Daddy's Angel

My father was so pissed that I was actually surprised that he hadn't raised his hand to hit me. Thankfully the wall recived the blow that my father dealt out in his sudden anger with me. Poor wall never saw it coming.

"Dad, you need to listen to me," I begged.

"Listen to you? What could you have to say about yourself that could make you look any better? My daughter let in one of the boys who kidnapped her willingly," My father's chest heaved up and down furiously.

"Dad, let me explain-"

"You're still just a child. You don't think before you do things! I should have never left you home alone! I thought I could trust you!" My father yelled.

Tears welled up in my eyes just like they always did when my parents yelled at me. Whenever they say something along the lines of 'you've disapointed me' I start bawling like a baby. I never mean to make my parents upset.

Preston laid on the couch awkwardly as he tried to figure out what he was going to do. I couldn't blame him. He probably still didn't know where he stood on this whole matter. He still needed to decided whether he was going to blame me, or help defend me against our father. Not that talking back to our father was something that either of us was good at.

"You're not even listening to me," I sobbed. I hated when he yelled at me, but at the same time it pissed me off that he wasn't even letting me talk to him. A coversation required two people's imput and replies. This was just my father yelling.

"Why should I? It seems that you never listen to me. And now you're being a little whore too. What happened to my innocent daughter?" His angry comments were now becoming rude insults. And i was shaking trying to hold myself together.

"Okay, that was uncalled for!" Preston jumped off the couch and yelled in my defence, "You're not even letting her talk and now you're calling her a whore for kissing the boy? You're doing worse things for work. We saw the paper on the drug deals. You're sitting here yelling at her for this, when you're leading to the death of thousands of teenagers and adults. What kind of father are you?"

The next thing my father did surprised both of us. He reached out and slapped my brother across the face. The force knocked Preston back down on the couch. I was too busy sobbing and shaking to do anything but cry harder. Preston's hand went to his face and held his reddening cheek. I could see from the look on his face that he had now lost ever ounce of respect that he had once held for our father. He was nothing to Preston now.

My father's face went dark, "You'll understand one day why I had to do these things for you kids. And don't you ever disrespect me again, Preston," My father's attention returned back to me, as he proceeded to grab my arm and drag me upstairs, "You are never leaving your room again, Alex."

"Dad, please, you need to try and understand," My voice broke inbetween sobs, but I didn't try to fight my father. I was in too much shock to do that.

"I'm done, Alex. I'm just done. You'll stay in your room and won't come out unless I let you out," With that he threw me in my room and only came inside to turn on my window sensor that would tell him if I was trying to leave. Another on of this rediculous do-hickies that he had installed when I had come back home. Then he left my room saying, "I love you, Alex. I just hope one day you'll understand," and locked my bedroom door behind him.

I colapsed on my bed and just sobbed. He was supposed to be my father. He was supposed to love me unconditionally no matter what. Why the hell was he freaking out like this. It's not like I had killed someone. Now I wasn't even sure if he actually loved me. His words felt empty to me now.

This wasn't the father that I had grown up knowing.

Then again, I guess I hadn't really known much about the man that I had called my fether in the first place.