𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄 | D. O'brien

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈

he said that he sorry for missing most of my childhood and wants to make it up to me.  he said he means more to me that his own life,  which doesn't make any sense because my entire life all he has done is just beaten me.  

i had a bullet wound in my fucking leg because of him.  i think he should've gone to a mental hospital instead of a fucking prison.  where they all learn more violence.  

he has changed though.

after he shot me, he crouched at my legs and apologized.  and he didn't stop.  he started crying and how he wished he was dead.  he even held the gun to his fucking head.

this wasn't the father i knew.

right now he is reading a book.  a book called 'how to be a father'.  which is so fucking hilarious to me because a book doesn't do shit for him as he cant read when he's drunk or high.  and right now i think he's both.  there is the smell of weed filing the air and the sound of empty beer bottles being kicked around.  

he must of stollen all this shit,  cause he has no money and just got out of prison.  and honestly i wouldn't blame him,  cause if my whole family hates me and i'm poor,  i can't get anything from them,  so i'd just steal some shit to keep my head above the water.  actually i don't know if i would do that.

at this point i'm just tired at wasting my voice,  crying and begging won't help either,  there's no way i'll be able to change his mind.  he's been in prison for a good 15 or so years and has probably thought this whole situation out in every possibility possible,  that and the fact of trying to survive and escape.

he hasn't always had me tied up, he let me walk around and go to the bathroom and eat and drink, but during this time when i thought i had my free will, i realised he had a gun to my back the entire time, so i didn't try to pull any shit that would cause me to get injured.

i haven't made a single noise in around an hour,  from what i can tell.  maybe it's just been 30 seconds,  i'm not so sure.

i couldn't move in anyway possible with me being tied up like this,  i just hope someone will find me,  or maybe i'll wait till he unties me and wait for him to sleep,  or just steal the gun, or...  i don't even know anymore.

but right now i am dying to know what the time was.  

i try to gain his attention.  but nothing's working.  i stop my foot on the ground and release sound from my mouth which just turns into groans or muffled noise.  still.  nothing.  

but i do see his eye's tear away from the book.  "what is it?"  he growls.  not daring to look me in the eye.  i continue to muffle words and he groans loud. he stands up and struts towards me angrily.  he digs his hands into my mouth and pulls the towel rag down to my neck.  i gasp loudly for air whilst talking.

"what- what's the date?" i ask staring up at him through tired eyes.  he rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders.  

"how the fuck am i supposed to know."  he replies and i roll my eyes.  

"check?" i ask and he he looks at me as if he wants to kill me.  and i'm almost scared that he will.  he turns away from me and stomps towards the tv turning it on.  the news was on, as always.  over the past couple of days.  he would fall asleep with the news on.  and almost every news channel that was showing was about me.

all sorts of stuff talking about how i am missing, how i have been kidnapped, abducted, killed even.  how my family and, dylan, was scared to death.  worried.  there was even one about how they think my dad had gotten to me, wanting revenge, forgiveness, anything.