One Day You'll Find Me

Chapter One

***This chapter has been edited***

"DAMIEN!" My mother screamed my father's name from inside the house. I froze instantly in my tracks, halfway across the back garden. Straining my ears, I heard a low roar of words, met with a higher-pitched cry of frustration and astonishment. Knowing what was going on inside, but seeing the approaching storm closing in, I was left in conflict so stood rooted to the spot. Weighing up my options, I focused my attention on the house, and the decision was made for me when I heard Mum yell my name loud and clear:

"Maria deserves better than this!"

I turned on my heels and bolted into the garden. Shakily setting myself in my hammock, I stared up at the darkening sky, the slight wind gently rocking my cocoon from side to side. The fighting wasn't such an unusual occurrence anymore. But this time... this time it felt different. The others were just unsettling; this one had me nervous. So nervous my foot was twitching, my fingers tapping to hide the slight tremble of my hand. I couldn't imagine what they were fighting about. No, that was a lie. Dad had been constantly aggravated for weeks now. His huge workload didn't help, but as it never subsided, I was starting to think he piled it on deliberately. But why? More work meant less time with us, less time with me. Didn't he love me anymore? The thought scared me. It was less than a month ago that he'd brought home Molly. He'd taken me outside, and there she was with a great big bow around her neck. Instantly she'd started yapping for attention, and I'd squealed in delight and scooped her up, the tiny little fluff ball of a puppy that she was. Putting her down, I'd run at Dad, and he'd picked me up and spun me round, a big goofy grin on his face, telling me every nine year-old deserves a puppy for a best friend. But that day was a rarity. He hadn't done something like that for ages.

A commotion on the veranda of our two-storey farm house made me strain my ears again. When I heard Molly's yelping and whimpering as she was thrown out the door, I nearly cried out with the injustice of it. But my heart was quickly overtaken by concern for my dog. The back door slammed shut again. I waited until I could hear the shouting start up once more before calling out to her. A few moments later, Molly came running down the path as fast as her little legs could take her and leapt for the hammock. Burrowing under my arm, her head resting below my chin, she relaxed. With my soothing strokes, she quickly fell asleep.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, until the house was quiet and the sky was bruised blue-black. I gazed up at the stars as I waited. They twinkled down at me, like a huge handful of diamonds someone had coated in glue and thrown on the ceiling. The moon was just a sliver of pearl hanging there, but the light from it was surprisingly bright. Deciding it was safe to go inside, I picked up my slumbering dog and walked silently to the side door, opening it just enough to squeeze through. I slunk off down the hall towards the stairs, but changed course when I saw Dad sitting there. Resigned to sleeping in the living room- because Mum had told me to stay away from him after their fights- I snuggled up under a blanket on the armchair furthest from the door. It was a good thing too. For the storm I'd seen coming earlier finally arrived. The wind started blowing, gradually turning into a gale, and then some. I stared out the window, watching with unfocused eyes the wind buffeting the trees just outside. The branches were almost horizontal, the strength of the wind forcing them in unnatural directions. I thought absentmindedly of all the broken branches we'd find strewn about the yard in the morning. Despite the attention I was giving the outside world, the majority of my brain was focused on one thing. My father. Although I tried not to question what I didn't (couldn't) understand, tonight's performance had my senses on red alert. He had been acting stranger then normal. He'd start a conversation, and then abruptly walk away mid-sentence. I didn't know what to make of it. I shifted in my chair, and listened to the wind forcing itself through the tiny gaps around the window frames. The house stood steadfast against the pounding of the wind, and I was glad to be protected from it.