A black, heavy cloud hung low above the man's bowed head, the skin between his eyebrows tight with concentration, and frustration.
His large hand gripped the pen gently yet he wrote on the white lined paper aggressively, as if he was mad at it.
On...
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trigger warning: this chapter includes d0mestic vi0lence
Walking into my home after spending the rest of the afternoon with Mr Rossi, I felt like I had done a great industice to my uncle.
But, was it an injustice if nothing even happened? I knew nothing could ever happen. The man was so out of my reach that it was practically stupid of me to think that he would ever be interested in someone like me.
He's older, more powerful, and everything I'm not. I couldn't tlet myself daydream of him, or else I'd be thinking of nothing but him.
I slumped down on my bed and stared at the dark brown wood floors below my sock covered feet.
Now that I was home alone, I decided to call my best friend, Jane.
"Hey!"
I smiled, "Hey, what's up?"
She groaned, and I heard her flipping pages through the phone, "Well, I'm doing calculus, and I'm thinking of burning my house down. What's up with you?"
"Uh, well. Just got home... from tea. With... the guy from Maria's party,"
She screamed, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear, "Fuck yes! Oh, my God. How did this happen?"
I shrugged, "Well, he came by the bookstore, actually. He's Maria's son, you know? Anyway, it was just tea,"
She was quiet now, "Yeah," she mumbled, "you have to be careful, kid. Ronald—"
I interrupted quickly, "Yeah, I know. It's fine. It was just one time, and it won't happen again, you know?"
"I believe you. But hey, we'll see each other tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah, okay!"
We ended the call, just as I heard the garage doors creak open. Anxiety exploded in my chest like a firework. I hid my phone and grabbed my homework. My chest ached, and rose and fell quickly and I was sure to have an anxiety attack within the second.
I heard my uncle walk up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his weight. My mouth was so dry, and I looked down at my hand holding the pen, and it shook.
His bedroom door slammed shut, and I exhaled a long, relieved breath of air.
No, I wasn't afraid of my uncle.
I was petrified of him.
My eyes snapped to my 'runaway' bag on top of my closet, and I tried my hardest to focus on my homework but it was futile.
For he was out in the house now.
Three solid knocks shook my door, and I squeezed my eyes shut before I softly cleared my throat, and said, "Come in!"
