It was sixth grade though, that I knew my dad wanted to show me a little more than parental love.
Dad and I had moved out on our own. Two years had been enough time to go through a divorce.
The place we lived in was a nice little apartment. With a living room and one bedroom, one that my dad and I shared. Still naive, I hadn't thought anything of it. I didn't mind sharing a room with daddy. I had my separate sleeping space, a couch, while he had his. A twin sized bed. I would have gotten a twin size to- if we had the money. And the space.
But we didn't. And that was fine at the time.
It had its pros- like how sometimes daddy would let me sleep in his bed, since there was usually enough room. Being that I was very small for a twelve year old. He'd pull me close to him. And talk about how much I was like my mom.
I always thought that was a good thing. That I reminded daddy of mommy.
I missed her a lot. But daddy wouldn't let me call her.
"That women is a dirty slut. Like hell I'd let you talk to her."
I didn't know what that meant either. But I knew it wasn't very nice. Since my friend Craig had called Stan Marsh's girl friend Wendy a slut, multiple times. Being that he doesn't like her all that much, I assumed it was offensive, and that daddy was still mad at mom for some reason.
But lets get back to the story.
I had invited a few friends over for the night. Craig Tucker, my best friend, the one who could make me smile at the stupidest things, and flip me off without having me freak out. Clyde Donovan, a friend of Craig, and I suppose- a good friend of mine. He was addicted to porn, and the Internet. Of course I didn't know what porn was at the time though. Token Black, who was the only sensible one in our group. He was a good friend to, and knew how to sing. I was proud to sit next to him in chorus. And then there was the one I detested, the one I absolutely loathed. Thomas. It wasn't because of his illness. Not because of the turrets. I was never a biased person, I didn't care about things like that.
"Stupid Fuck! Can I have some soda? Shit!"
"Hes sooo coool..." cooed Craig.
And thats why.
I didn't know it was jealousy. Just shrugged it off and said it was because the yelling made my ears hurt.
Although I knew that wasn't true. And I knew that would be somewhat hypocritical- mainly because I have random outburst at times- I just let it go. I tried to be a friend to Thomas.
But he was more of an enemy.
"Ack! Sure Thomas." I said, pointing to where the kitchen in my apartment was. My eyes glaring at his back as he got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge in search of a can of soda. I clutched my thermos of coffee in my hands, grip growing tighter.
"Tweek, chill dude. If you hold that thing any tighter, it will explode." Token said as he looked up from his science homework. Just like Token to do homework at a sleepover.
What is he going to do next, sleep? No one sleeps at sleepovers.
But I nodded.
"Oh god! I don't want it to explode on me! Then I'll get burned, and I'll have to go to the hospital and- oh Jesus! Its way too much pressure!" I screamed, tugging at my hair. Token just laughed, along with Craig and Clyde.
"If it explodes, I'll take you to the hospital, Tweekers." Said Craig. Oh god, I used to love that nickname. The one he gave me in 2nd grade. In the present, he no longer calls me that. Or any cute nicknames we might have given each other.
But this isn't the present. This is the past.
"Oh Jesus!" I responded. Twitching, tugging at my shirt this time.
At this point, Thomas was back, chugging down a can of Doctor Pepper. I stared in disgust, but then turned away to look at the front door that opened.
I hadn't told my dad about the sleepover. But assumed he wouldn't mind.
"Tweek, who are these people?" dad asked, bag of groceries in both of his hands.
I put on a smile, happy to see my dad was home.
"Ack! Dad! These are my -Nhg!- Friend from school!" I actually have hung out with everyone outside of school, we all went to each others house. But never to mine. I felt bad.
He cocked he head to the side, looked at me, and nodded.
"Just don't make a lot of noise, alright? I'll be working on making a new type of coffee." and with that, he walked into the kitchen, put the bag of groceries on the counter, and went to our bedroom.
–
The night was long. Filled with soda, cheesy poofs, I makeover on Clyde's part (where we found the makeup to give our friend a makeover... was beyond me.), video games, gossip and eventually, sleeping.
Everyone was sprawled across the living room floor. Clyde took custody of the couch, Token lay on his side, Craig lay in a ball, while Thomas took most of the covers. Me, I was still awake. Watching some very noneducational show about a monkey.
I reached around for a remote, and when I found it, I dropped it in shock at my dads sudden speaking.
"Son, can I talk for you a moment?" I looked up, to where my dad was standing. He stood in his flannel pajamas, at the doorway of our bedroom. I slowly got up, walked to where he was standing, and followed him as he entered our room, locked the door.
"Please do not invite your friends over again." I blinked, twitched, and tugged at the hem of my shirt.
Did he not like my friends. I looked up at him again.
"Ack! Why?" I asked tilting my head in curiosity.
He looked mad. And I didn't know why. He grabbed onto my arms, tight, his nails digging into my skin. It hurt. But why? This is my dad, he never hurt me before.
"Because I said so young man. Is that clear?" it was said harshly, sternly. I knew he meant it. I didn't want to know what he'd do if I said no.
"Oh god! Crystal clear!" I bit down on my lower lip. My arms where hurting, and his grip lessoned as he pulled me into an embrace. Running his hands through my hair. I felt his lips press against my neck.
"Good... your daddies little angel. Just like your mom. Your all mine. All daddies. You won't leave me..." he said, softly, in a whisper. Only one with good hearing would have heard it.
But I heard it. It made me feel uneasy.
"Daddy..." I started, he then looked at me. With such emotion in his eyes that I, for the second time in my life, was scared of my father.
He grabbed my face, pulled me into a kiss. One I've never experienced before. But it was my dad, so it had to be alright.
His hands landed on my belt loop. Tugging my pants down. He stopped for a second though.
"Tweek, what I'm about to do, you can tell nobody about." he looked at me, a serious expression on his face. I nodded.
"They'll say I can't love you. You'll be taken away from me. Far away."
Far away? I would never want to be taken far away, ever.
"Okay daddy."
And that night, I felt like I lost something inside of me. Something precious. As My dad continued doing this, I grew numb, a little colder each day.
It wasn't until I took sexual education, and learned about sexual harassment that I realized why.
–
.__.
I'm going to hell, I swear. And honestly, I like Thomas. I have no reason to hate him. Hes adorable. I just don't like Craig/Thomas or Creekomas. I only support one pairing with Thomas, in all honesty. And thats Kyle/Thomas. But its not popular at all. Never once had I seen a fanfiction, fanart or mention of it at all come up. So I try to keep that little fandom to myself. Anyways. This chapter wasn't great. I tried though.
Leave reviews, they make me happy :D
Oh and before I forget: HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13th BITCHES!