***Author's note***

All right, before I go on with the next chapter I want to say a big thank you to all of you that left reviews. So, to Jenn, Trunksgrl, Luke Skywalker, and Emma, thank you very much for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying my story so far J .

Remember, I appreciate any suggestions, corrections and/or comments!

Now, without further ado, here's chapter one…

Chapter 1: Me, the Over Protective Father

"Amanda! Amanda!" I cry, racing frantically through an empty house.

"Amanda!" Oh god, not again. I have constantly been telling her not to pull these kinds of stunts. Why doesn't she just listen to me?

"Amanda!" Fear is evident; I can hear it in my own voice. She must be around here somewhere. Where could she possibly have gone?

I slam my fist hard against the nearest wall, bearing the pain that invitingly comes with it. She is a lot of trouble once I find her!

My streak of anger is broken at the sound of a child's laughter ringing joyously like a bell, outside a nearby open window. I stand silently for a few moments racking my brain, trying so hard to determine where I have heard that laugh. My mind completely blank, I approach the window and gaze out onto the front lawn.

A sudden pain strikes me. It isn't a physical pain but an aching emotion that delves so much deeper than sadness.

Staring outside, eyes fixed on the laughing child, I realize why the laughter sounds so foreign to me. The laughter is that of my daughter.

I strain to recall when I have last seen her so happy but I can remember no such time. I watch her run around the yard; gracefully chasing after a familiar looking boy whom appears to be about her age. The boy's mother is standing not too far from the children, a look of pure amusement written across her face.

The woman I recognize immediately for I have seen her and her son on many occasions. Although I have known her for the passed few years we have not spoken as much as a 'hello.' About the woman, I know very little aside from her name, Emily Stephens, and the fact that she became a widow almost two years ago.

My worried eyes trail back to Amanda who in five years has become a beautiful girl, looking more like her mother every day. Her long, curly, dark hair flies behind her as she prances over the sun- dried grass. Amanda's chocolate eyes remain fixed on her playmate, like a lion eye's its prey before an attack.

All teeth and gaps waiting for teeth to refill them are bared; her lips are curled into a brilliant smile.

She is laughing so hard that she doesn't see the rock that lies in her path. It happens just as I have feared. Stumbling on the rock, she falls, hard on the ground. Her dark eyes fill suddenly with tears.

Now I realize the terrible mistake I've made. I ought to have brought her inside as soon as I had discovered where she was. Now, she is hurt and it is my fault.

I leave the window at once nearly sprinting outside and over to where my daughter sits. I hardly notice that Ms. Stephens has also approached Amanda, followed closely by her son.

I gently lift Amanda off of the ground. Brushing the dirt away from her legs and dress, she pulls away from me.

''Daddy, I'm okay,'' she says reassuringly.

"Okay? Of course you are not okay. Amanda, you fell, you could have seriously gotten yourself hurt. You shouldn't even be out here without me, you know it isn't safe!" I don't take back a word I say; she needs to know that I care about her deeply.

''Daddy,'' she speaks almost impatiently. "I was just playing. I fell. I'm okay. I'm not hurt."

I find that I'm now the one who is growing impatient.

"Amanda, you could have been hurt! You are very, very lucky that I got out here when I did. I've told you over and over not to leave the house. It is too dangerous!"

I hate to scold her but she needs to know that what she did was wrong. I turn to face Ms. Stephens and her son (both who appear extremely awkward) to apologize for the evening's events. I add that it's time fore Amanda to come inside.

"It's perfectly all right, Mr. Turner," she pauses, fidgeting with the straps on her handbag. "Well, I guess it is about time that I take Matt home. So, um…good evening Mr. Turner, don't be so hard on your daughter. I've heard you tend to a little over protective. Good bye Amanda, I hope to see you again soon," she concludes with a sweet smile.

"Good evening, Ms. Stephens," I return with a curt nod, trying to conceal my anger. What does she mean that I tend to be over protective? This woman knows absolutely nothing about me.

Ms. Stephen's eyes roll in her head.

"Please, Mr. Turner," she speaks again,"call me Emily." She smiles yet again, her brown eyes sparkling.

I don't answer.

"Goodbye. " Amanda whispers, her voice quivering.

Matt doesn't speak but waves politely as his mother takes his hand and leads him off down the empty street.

Well now that that is settled, I can take my daughter inside and keep her safe. I smile at Amanda warmly but do not receive one back. Instead I am given a deadly glare followed by the four worst words any father could possibly hear from his child.

She utters the words so coldly that they do not sound as though they have been spoken by a five-year old. The words pierce my heart.

Four words continue to echo through my mind as Amanda runs into our home, slamming the door shut behind her.

Even long after she has left me to myself the words repeat themselves, hurting a little more each time:

'Daddy, I hate you.'

'I hate you.'

'I HATE you!'

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Well, this chapter didn't come out so great…

I decided to have the story told by Will, so everything is in his POV. But I was thinking that it might be kinda cool to switch POV's every other chap. If I had another character's POV it would probably be Amanda's. Just thought that might be cool to see what both father AND daughter are thinking. I don't know, let me know what you think and then I'll post the next chap. as soon as I can.

Thanks!

~Amaries