Since I was running late, I figured I only had time to get to my locker and then to class. I was disappointed, because I figured that I wouldn't get to see my friends. Of course, it was stupid of me to think they wouldn't be waiting for me at my locker.
"El! I missed you so much!" Lindsey said, hugging me.
"I missed you too."
"Is it terrible in the place you're staying?" Craig asked, really concerned.
"Nah, it's not too bad. I'm rooming with a girl named Stephanie. She's not all bad. Its not home though."
"I should hope not!" Lindsey exclaimed. "Why would you want it to be like home?"
The bell rang just then, and right before we split off to our separate classes, I responded, "Because it was safe."
I got a lot of weird looks for that, but they couldn't ask me anything since they had to get to class. I don't think I would have explained it to them. Its hard, being uprooted from everything you've ever known. Sure, I was being hit in my home, but I knew what was going to happen. In the place I'm staying in now, I don't know what's going to happen. Even stupid things, like when I'll have dinner are totally changed. I'm not comfortable with change.
I wheeled into Mr. Simpson's room. He wasn't looking too good, I noticed. Maybe he had the flu. He looked at me, concerned, but he didn't say anything. I had been assured by Mr. Raditch that the teachers knew not to ask me any questions.
The day passed quickly. Soon, it was lunchtime. I went to my locker first, got my lunch, and headed to the elevator. I had been given the code to use it to get downstairs to the lunchroom. It was down a hallway that no one ever went down.
I turned the corner, and ran into my dad. That's right, my dad.
"Wha…What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!" I said, in a strangled whisper. I could feel my chest getting tight, my palms got sweaty, and I got panicky.
He grinned. My father never grinned, and he certainly never grinned like he was doing now. His whole face was lit up, like a kid on Christmas. This didn't help my panicking.
"You left so abruptly. We were nervous for a while. And then the police man came. We though you had died." He said this with no sadness in his voice; it was like any other event. I might have been dead, and he didn't seem to care. "But then they arrested me. Bail at $100,000. Bet you didn't think we'd be able to get the money for that, did you?"
"I s-swear," I said, stuttering, "I didn't know. I just, I…"
"So why did you tell anyone? You knew this was supposed to be our little secret." He grabbed my arm, hard, wrenching it up. "You deserved it you know. You needed to be punished."
"Daddy, you're hurting my arm," I whimpered, not sure what else to say.
"I just wanted us to be a happy family, but you had to go and spoil everything, didn't you, you slut. Well, now you're going to learn a real lesson." He yanked me out of my wheelchair. Without it, I was helpless, and fell. My mind went back to Lisa saying she wouldn't get me back into my wheelchair again. With the way my father looked, I doubt she'd have to worry about taking me anywhere.
He pulled out a gun. It was the one we kept in the basement, locked up. "Just in case" my father had said. I didn't think this is what he had in mind for it, when he bought it.
I screamed, and he shot at the ceiling. "Shut up or someone will come running. This is just going to be you and me. You know, you haven't done anything with Lindsey yet. If you died now, we would be together in heaven. You wouldn't have to go to Hell. We could be together. Wouldn't you like that?"
Tears were pouring from my eyes. I didn't want this to happen. For all I had to go through, and all the crap I knew I'd have to deal with in the future, I didn't want to die! I wanted to live!
"Answer me!" he demanded.
"NO!" I shouted. It wasn't much of a fight, but if he was going to kill me anyways, I might as well be honest with him.
He winced at my shout, and shot at the ceiling again. "You don't know what you're saying. You love me. You still love me. You'll always love me, and you can't do anything about it. And now we can be together forever."
He lowered the gun, and pointed it straight at my chest. In the stories, everyone always becomes brave at this moment, ready to face their fate. I was not one of those people. I wanted to live! I screamed, as loudly as I could, and then I heard a shot.
I thought I was dead. I had to be dead. He couldn't have missed me. But dying wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It didn't even hurt. And then I saw my father, on the ground. And a cop, with gun still pointed, shaking.
I screamed; my father was on the ground! He was hurt.
"Get help, call 911! Do something! Help him!" I screamed.
The police officer tried to guide me away. "There's nothing you can do anymore. He's dead. You can't help him."
I tore away from him. "No! There has to be something." I grabbed my dad's body, and hugged him. Blood from his chest was all over me, but I didn't care.
"He tried to hurt you. He had to stop him," another cop told me. I hadn't noticed that there were 4 total cops in the room.
"But he's my dad," I said, sobbing.
Two of them tried to pull me away, but the biggest one stopped them. "Leave her be for a minute."
I was sobbing; my heart was tearing in two. I didn't know what to do, the pain wasn't like anything I'd ever felt. I'd been told that people always felt numb right after a death, but all I felt was pain. It hurt more than anything. It hurt more than when he beat me, or when the girls in the bathroom beat me. Despite everything, he was my father. I loved him.
Sorry for the wait guys. I didn't know where to go from here with this, so I hope the ending is okay. What else could I have done with the dad? He needed to die. Anyways, I'm not quite done. There's still going to be an epilogue. There's a little more to the story. No sequel though, I promise. Besides, I already have another story idea. The epilogue will be here soon.
"El! I missed you so much!" Lindsey said, hugging me.
"I missed you too."
"Is it terrible in the place you're staying?" Craig asked, really concerned.
"Nah, it's not too bad. I'm rooming with a girl named Stephanie. She's not all bad. Its not home though."
"I should hope not!" Lindsey exclaimed. "Why would you want it to be like home?"
The bell rang just then, and right before we split off to our separate classes, I responded, "Because it was safe."
I got a lot of weird looks for that, but they couldn't ask me anything since they had to get to class. I don't think I would have explained it to them. Its hard, being uprooted from everything you've ever known. Sure, I was being hit in my home, but I knew what was going to happen. In the place I'm staying in now, I don't know what's going to happen. Even stupid things, like when I'll have dinner are totally changed. I'm not comfortable with change.
I wheeled into Mr. Simpson's room. He wasn't looking too good, I noticed. Maybe he had the flu. He looked at me, concerned, but he didn't say anything. I had been assured by Mr. Raditch that the teachers knew not to ask me any questions.
The day passed quickly. Soon, it was lunchtime. I went to my locker first, got my lunch, and headed to the elevator. I had been given the code to use it to get downstairs to the lunchroom. It was down a hallway that no one ever went down.
I turned the corner, and ran into my dad. That's right, my dad.
"Wha…What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!" I said, in a strangled whisper. I could feel my chest getting tight, my palms got sweaty, and I got panicky.
He grinned. My father never grinned, and he certainly never grinned like he was doing now. His whole face was lit up, like a kid on Christmas. This didn't help my panicking.
"You left so abruptly. We were nervous for a while. And then the police man came. We though you had died." He said this with no sadness in his voice; it was like any other event. I might have been dead, and he didn't seem to care. "But then they arrested me. Bail at $100,000. Bet you didn't think we'd be able to get the money for that, did you?"
"I s-swear," I said, stuttering, "I didn't know. I just, I…"
"So why did you tell anyone? You knew this was supposed to be our little secret." He grabbed my arm, hard, wrenching it up. "You deserved it you know. You needed to be punished."
"Daddy, you're hurting my arm," I whimpered, not sure what else to say.
"I just wanted us to be a happy family, but you had to go and spoil everything, didn't you, you slut. Well, now you're going to learn a real lesson." He yanked me out of my wheelchair. Without it, I was helpless, and fell. My mind went back to Lisa saying she wouldn't get me back into my wheelchair again. With the way my father looked, I doubt she'd have to worry about taking me anywhere.
He pulled out a gun. It was the one we kept in the basement, locked up. "Just in case" my father had said. I didn't think this is what he had in mind for it, when he bought it.
I screamed, and he shot at the ceiling. "Shut up or someone will come running. This is just going to be you and me. You know, you haven't done anything with Lindsey yet. If you died now, we would be together in heaven. You wouldn't have to go to Hell. We could be together. Wouldn't you like that?"
Tears were pouring from my eyes. I didn't want this to happen. For all I had to go through, and all the crap I knew I'd have to deal with in the future, I didn't want to die! I wanted to live!
"Answer me!" he demanded.
"NO!" I shouted. It wasn't much of a fight, but if he was going to kill me anyways, I might as well be honest with him.
He winced at my shout, and shot at the ceiling again. "You don't know what you're saying. You love me. You still love me. You'll always love me, and you can't do anything about it. And now we can be together forever."
He lowered the gun, and pointed it straight at my chest. In the stories, everyone always becomes brave at this moment, ready to face their fate. I was not one of those people. I wanted to live! I screamed, as loudly as I could, and then I heard a shot.
I thought I was dead. I had to be dead. He couldn't have missed me. But dying wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It didn't even hurt. And then I saw my father, on the ground. And a cop, with gun still pointed, shaking.
I screamed; my father was on the ground! He was hurt.
"Get help, call 911! Do something! Help him!" I screamed.
The police officer tried to guide me away. "There's nothing you can do anymore. He's dead. You can't help him."
I tore away from him. "No! There has to be something." I grabbed my dad's body, and hugged him. Blood from his chest was all over me, but I didn't care.
"He tried to hurt you. He had to stop him," another cop told me. I hadn't noticed that there were 4 total cops in the room.
"But he's my dad," I said, sobbing.
Two of them tried to pull me away, but the biggest one stopped them. "Leave her be for a minute."
I was sobbing; my heart was tearing in two. I didn't know what to do, the pain wasn't like anything I'd ever felt. I'd been told that people always felt numb right after a death, but all I felt was pain. It hurt more than anything. It hurt more than when he beat me, or when the girls in the bathroom beat me. Despite everything, he was my father. I loved him.
Sorry for the wait guys. I didn't know where to go from here with this, so I hope the ending is okay. What else could I have done with the dad? He needed to die. Anyways, I'm not quite done. There's still going to be an epilogue. There's a little more to the story. No sequel though, I promise. Besides, I already have another story idea. The epilogue will be here soon.