The Treehouse

Chapter Two

Mom and I went back home with me carrying the plastic bags filled with groceries. We entered the two story house and saw my so called father taking long sips from his vodka bottle.

"How can he even drink that?" I muttered under my breath, trying to walk to the kitchen.

Come on, Richard, the kitchen is full of knives and you might need it for protection. Sadly, before I could run away to safety, my father stood up and held my wrist.

"Y-Yes?" I call out timidly, knowing my mom was in the same room.

"Let's talk after dinner," he says in his usual drunk low voice, "I just have to apologize and such..."

"I think that's a good idea," my mom chirps.

No, Mom. He's going to abuse me- He might even be that pedophile he always is and go for boys instead of girls.

I bit my lower lip and answered with "Sure."

My mom gave us a fake smile and skipped into the kitchen. No, wait! Bring me with you! I sigh and heard my sister run downstairs.

"Oh, you're still here," she said unenthusiastically.

"He's having dinner with us, apparently," I reply and walked passed my father.

"He didn't do anything to you, right?" My sister whispered to me while I was passing by her.

I shook my head and jogged upstairs. Okay, calm down... Tomorrow you'll be at school for seven hours, meaning you don't get to see him- And that means longer treehouse hours!

I smile as I remembered the coziness of the house I was in a few hours ago. That owner must be taking good care of that house.

I laid on my bed, face planting my pillow, and hoped the my father stayed asleep. I crossed my fingers and took a deep breath.

"Why does he have to stay here?" I asked to no one in particular, "Mom knows anyways, but why?"

My thoughts were cleared when my door was suddenly being knocked on.

"Yeah, I'm coming," I answer, hearing footsteps fading as the person walks away.

I sigh and ran downstairs in the kitchen to hear silence as my family began to eat. My father eyed my movements with me not knowing what to do but look away.

What's up with him? Being the good son I am, I decided to flash a small smile at him even if I really hate him.

He stares at me with a blank expression and his lips slowly curved into a smile. Wow! A real smile ever since his third girlfriend started a relationship with him!

At the corner of my eye, I could see my sister avoiding all eye contact and interaction with Dad and I knew how she felt.

I quickly ate my dinner and placed it in the sink before watching Mom wash all the dishes.

"Be careful when he's talking to you," she said out of the blue.

I simply nod and walked out of the kitchen, preparing for whatever consequence I have to face.

"Hello... Son," my father's voice echoed in the living room, giving me chills. It's been forever since he called me son.

"Hello," I replied, trying not to be disrespectful.

"How's your life so far?" I literally twitched at his question. Why the hell would he ask that?

"It's fine, may I go now?" I ask, trying to get away.