I Don't Want To Say Goodnight (All Time Low Fanfic)

Chapter 7.

"You don't have to do this."

I sighed and shook my head at Sam. "Yes, I do. I at least owe him a goodbye."

He growled and gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. "You don't owe that man anything. When was the last time he even tried to get in contact with you?"

"Don't, Sam. He was a shit dad, trust me, I know he was but he's still my dad. I have to say goodbye," I said and patted his arm in an attempt to calm him down. He scowled but remained silent for the remainder of the journey. I rested my head against the window and stared as the world flew past me. I was terrified about what I was going to say to my dad. I wasn't sure if I could even call him that anymore.

I hadn't heard from my dad once in the last two years. The second I turned eighteen, I moved out and in with Sam's family without a second glance. I wasn't even sure if he still lived in the same place but I couldn't imagine him moving. He had lived in that house with my mother, years before I was even thought about. He wouldn't leave that place. Memories were the only thing that remained of my mother.

I think that was why our relationship had always been so strained. At least, I hoped it was. When he looked at me, he saw my mother staring back and that caused his heart to break all over again. Every time he looked at me, he was reminded of the pain he felt when the love of his life was ripped from the world too soon. It was easier to just forget about me. I got to live whilst my mother never.

Now I never got live either. My time was limited and it had almost ran out.

"We're here."

Sam's quiet voice snapped me back to reality. The car was parked outside the house I had grown up in. I smiled fondly when I saw the giant oak tree still remained in the front garden. There was a branch about half way up the tree that was perfect for sitting on. Although it had taken us a while to work up the courage to climb that high, Sam and I had spent many hours sitting on that branch, just talking about anything and everything. When we were nine years old, we had fallen out of the tree and crashed to the ground, our limbs bent into impossible angles. I broke my right arm whilst Sam broke his left. We got matching casts and spent hours graffiting them with our favourite band names and lyrics. Even at such a young age, we both had a passion for music and had already developed our tastes.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked me. I shook my head and opened the car door.

"No. No, I have to do this myself," I said, although I sounded as if I was trying to convince myself more than anyone else. He nodded understandingly.

"Take a long as you need, I'll be right here."

I smiled gratefully and climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind me. I crossed the street and stopped outside the little white gate, my hand resting on the lock. I closed my eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. I opened the gate and forced myself to walk up the stone path that led up to the house I hadn't set foot in for two years. Once I reached the door, I found myself pressing the doorbell before I was even conscious of my actions. I could hear footsteps making their way towards me and I suddenly wanted to turn and sprint back to the car. The door swung opened and there stood my father.

We gazed at each other in silence for almost a full minute, taking in each other's appearance, not quite believing the other was stood in front of us. He hadn't changed much, perhaps a few more grey hairs and wrinkles. I cleared my throat. "Hey dad," I whispered. My voice was quiet and timid sounding. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Mia, it's been a while. What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly. I frowned at the sharp edge in his tone. He had always spoken that way to me but I hoped that in the time I was gone, he had missed me and possibly softened.