The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 12 - Short Friendships

Finally, he shuts the door and, in the seconds I contemplate running, gets in the driver's side before shutting the door and putting child lock on. We drive in silence as I face my window to pretend he's not even there and that this isn't really happening. How could he hurt people without a care in the world? How could I want to be friends with someone like that? The thought truly saddens me because I do want to be his friend. I enjoy his company, I like who he is when he's not violent, and I like not feeling so lonely. I've been here nearly four months and so far nothing good has come out of it.

Who knows where he's attempting to take us? Probably to his house where he feels most in control. A loud scoff leaves my lips at the thought and George exhales.

Of course, we end up outside his house. Turning off the car, he gets out to quickly run to my side and open the door. When he sees I'm not going anywhere, he unbuckles my belt (despite my efforts) and reaches for me. At this point, my anger takes over. My own hands reach out to push him by his shoulders causing him to stumble back while giving me a confused look. What on earth is there to be confused about?

"Take me home, George," My arms are folded across my chest while my head faces forward with a blank expression. He exhales again but when he begins to speak, I cut him off by repeating, "Take me home." My voice is void of any emotion, apart from the obvious anger, and I feel the temperature rising letting me know he's getting just as angry as I am feeling.

"Luna, st—"

"Take me home."

"Fucking hell, Luna." His anger level is similar to mine now. Good, he can empathise then.

When I speak next, it's a demand, "You take me home now or I'll never speak to you again."

"Why are you so damn angry?" I'm not even going to dignify that question with a response. No reply, nothing, I don't want to speak to him right now. The only option he has is to take me home. "You've got to understand—"

"Take. Me. Home."

From the corner of my eye, I see him run a hand through his hair before throwing his keys on the floor. That seems a little silly as he'll need them in a moment but I let him stare as though that's going to cause them to suddenly brake or blow up so he can deny me. After a few seconds, George picks them up, closes my door and gets back into the car.

Like the drive to his house, the drive to mine is silent and I'm perfectly happy with that. When we arrive outside my house, he reaches for me as I'm exiting the vehicle and in response I give him the harshest, angriest, most cruel look I've ever given someone. Slamming the door, I rush inside my safe, George-free house.

"Hi, honey," My dad's voice startles me as he approaches me at the bottom of the stairs, "Where've you been?"

How long had I been gone? "I went to the shop."

He lets out a deep laugh, "Okay... and you returned with nothing? We actually need some bread."

I turn to face him with a false smile on my lips, "They run out. Something about the storm coming."

Dad's eyebrows furrow, "That's not until Friday?" I shrug, clearly unbothered, but he seems more preoccupied with the storm, "Speaking of the storm, I'm working nights this weekend. Are you going to be okay alone? Or is George coming over?"

Moving a piece of hair out of my face, I consider my answer, "No, I'll be good. It'll be nice to be alone."

Sleeping doesn't come easy that night. All I can see is repeated images of George hurting that man and his anger at my anger. Was he that used to violence that he couldn't see why I would be so upset? Was it that normalised to him? The thought keeps me up until two in the morning.

That's why, when I rise at six, I'm filled with confusion. Exhausted but restless, I walk downstairs to face my, also confused, father. I didn't have to be awake for another hour and a half yet here I was. Just as he's about to ask me why I'm up, my hand flies over my mouth. My body knows I'm going to throw up before I do. My legs rush to the sink in a movement so quick I'm not even sure what's going on. My eyes water at the disgusting feeling in my stomach and throat while I almost miss the feeling of my father holding my hair and rubbing his hand up and down my back. When I'm down, dad hands me a towel and offers me a sad look.

"Back to bed for you, kid."

Just great. 

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A bit of a longer chapter to make up for the last one! 

Again, if you spot any mistakes please let me know :)