I laid on my bed, with my head facing the ceiling. Ignoring the feeling of tears flowing down eyes to my pillow and hair. “Why am I still alive?”, my voice came out cracked. It was morning already, meaning I’d been unconscious for a while. I lived to see another day. Pathetic.
My heart raced when I got my answer, “Cause of that stupid healing gift your mom behind. Your head injury healed quickly. You just took time waking up.”, he didn’t seem excited that I was awake. It’s not like I was expecting that, just hoping. A part of me just wants him to act like a father to me. Just once. “What? Were you expecting yourself to die? Don’t tell me you wanted to go, leaving me alone. I’d be heart broken.”, he said, his voice laced with sarcasm as he left the room. “You’ve got dishes to do! And don’t forget to clean the house!”, was the last thing he said before leaving.
I sighed, releaved that I was home alone. I definitely didn’t want him around.
I laid on my bed for a few more seconds, trying to accept the fact that I was still alive as soon as I did, I got up to do my chores and head for the shower after. The feeling of water hit my skin felt magnificent. It was so releaving. That’s why I always spent so much time in it when my dad’s away.
After a few hours of chores random tear spilling and baths I finally looked decent. I was used to the feeling of getting consumed by loneliness so I wasn’t bothered by the lack of presence.
Usually, when I’m lonely and bored, I’d walk round the house, making sure everything was just how my dad liked it.
I had gotten beaten up for leaving the house unkept.?
I had gotten beaten up for leaving the house too neat.
I had gotten beaten up for sleeping when he got home.
There’s always gonna be a reason for a beating. No matter how much effort I put into avoiding getting a beating from him, I always get one. So I wonder why I still try.
Hours had passed. I enjoyed the feeling of calmness I got when my dad wasn’t around but that all ended as soon as I heard the door bell.
“Coming!”, I yelled, rushing to the door, hoping I wasn’t being too sluggish.
“Welc-“, I stopped myself from completing the world as I felt my eyes drop and all the energy within me leaving, replacing whatever space it left with boredom as soon as I saw who was standing at my door. “What do you want?”, I frowned, holding back the urge to slamb the door at his face. This was the first time Dylan was showing up at my house.
“Don’t get all sassy with me. I didn’t want to come here.” he rolled his eyes, pushing me to the side casually and walking in like it was his house. I let out a low groan, rolling my hands into a fist as I followed him, preparing to tolerate whatever nonsense he says or does.
“My dad said I should drop this off here.”, he said dropping some plastic bags on the table. I didn’t even notice he was carrying anything. “He said you should eat as much as you can. There’s enough in the for you and your dad.”?
“Okay…”, I trailed, wondering if I should tell him thank you or just keep it till the next time I saw Mr. Arthur.
“Okay? That’s all?”, Dylan frowned, basically scolding me with his glare.
“Uh-” I didn’t know what else he wanted me to say. ‘You delivered me food. Let’s be bff’s?’
“So ungrateful. That’s disgusting. You’re meant to say thank you. When someone does something nice for you. You say thank you.”
“I’m aware.”?
“Then say it.”, he demanded, still glaring at me. He didn’t look like he was leaving till he heard me say those words and I definitely didn’t want him around.
“Okay… Thank you.” I sighed, watching a slow smile rush to his lips. “That’s for your dad.”, I informed him. Just incase it might have slipped his mind.
“Whatever.” he rolled his eyes, heading for the door. I watched him, hoping he’d have enough sense to know he’d have to close the door.
“You’re coming with me to school tomorrow. That order’s from my dad!”, he yelled about to leave but paused when I didn’t give a reply.
Was he expecting another thank you?
“Did you hear me?”, he turned to me, looking genuinely confused
“Yes.”, I replied plainly, also confused on the reaction he was expecting. “Thank you.” I said, just so he’d leave.
“Well don’t say it like that.”
“Thank you!”, I said, adding a little bit of more excitement though it was fake. I needed him to go away.
“Ugh. That was pathetic. You’re just saying that to get me to go away. Don’t you have questions or something. Aren’t you excited.”
“Do you want me to be?”
“Why are you asking, weirdo.”, he frowned, walking back up to me. “I want to know how you actually feel. You’re face is always so plain and hard to read. What’s your problem.”
“Why are you concerned? Do you suddenly care about me?”
“What?! No! Geez. I was just wondering how someone could be so robot like! I can’t care about someone I hope die soon.”
“Cool. We both have something in common.”
“What?”
“We both want me dead.”
Dylan had a terrified look on his face for a second. I could tell he was ready to run away but the next second he looked concerned and then he next, he looked angry.
“What’s it now?”, I groaned when he suddenly grabbed my shirt.
“Stop being so selfish! Do you know how much my dad would hurt if you left!”
“You’d be there to cheer him u-”
“I wouldn’t be enough! That’s what hurts! You better not die. Live for my dad. You can’t keep ruining his life you asshole!” he yelled.
I wiped my face, holding an irritated expression. “You’re spitting.”, I simply stated watching as his raging eyes turned pale, like he suddenly lost hope.
“You really don’t care huh?” he asked, letting go of my shirt.
“No. I do.”, I said but my tone disagreed with me.
I wasn’t used to showing emotion through my voice or facial expression. Dylan might have not noticed yet. I could have a lot stacked up in my chest but barely ever show it to people. “I don’t wanna die anymore. I’ll live. For Mr. Arthur.”, my reply didn’t seem to satisfy him. I could tell by how sharp his stare was. He was searching for emotion on my face but have up when he couldn’t find any.
“I only say I want you to die cause I hate you. I don’t really mean it. I don’t anyone dead. Well… Not yet.”, he shrugged, heading for the door again, about to leave
“I’ll live so we can be friends!”, the thought had crossed my mind while he gave a speech on reasons I should live but I ignored it. I had no idea why I yelled it out all of a sudden. Maybe cause that’s actually what I wanted.
Dylan paused for a second then turned to glance at me. I waved at him with a small smile on then his expression turned into irritation mixed with surprise.?
He hated me that much huh. It was almost funny
He left without saying anything else. He didn’t even return the wave
I let out a low hiss as my mind drifted into the thought of school. I want to go. O really do but even if all the expenses laid on Mr. Arthur instead of my dad, he’d never let me go to school. The idea of me making progress in life disgusts him.
Grumbling, I head to the door, slamming it shut without hesitation. Dylan had left the door open. I really hate it when people do that. I was about to run to my room and take the shortest nap when the door slammed back open. I was pulled back by my hair before I could process what just happened.
“Welcome.”, my voice held no pain in it, his grip on my hair wasn’t too tight so this pain was nothing. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Do I have to tell you never to slam my door?”, he sounded drunk. That was good for me. He was always less violent when drunk. Most times, he’s just too lazy to touch me.
I remained quiet, waiting for him to let go of my hair and sighed when he did, turning to see him.?
Yup, definitely drunk. The smell of alcohol was everywhere. His eyes were red and tired, his posture was different. He looked too rough.?
Great! Today’s my day off of a beating huh.
“Arthur’s gonna be paying your fees from now on. So you get to go to school.”, he said, pushing me aside and stepping in. “That’s not the best part. He’s literally paying me to let you go to school.” Dad laughed, almost falling in the process. “What an idiot.”